I had a dream last night that I was getting married to this young yuppie (clean-cut, white-bread, J. Crew-approved jacket-dress shirt-beige pants-wireframe glasses outfit), and it wasn't revealed what had drawn me to this guy in the first place, but we had gotten to the Friends-esque wedding rehearsal stage, and I was having doubts as to whether he was the one. I recall asking my father how I would know and him just kind of no-selling my doubts as jitters, as the guy seemed like the department-store model of a presentable son-in-law. The definitive answer finally came when I wanted to go to a "cow festival" (I have no details on its content beyond the concept), and the fiancé said no; I apparently went along with being ordered around by my prospective spouse just to see what my future life would be like, and his idea of a replacement activity ended up being going to have wine at his parents' yuppie-ass converted barn house.
The upshot here is: get yourself someone who will go to the cow festival with you.
