A mere 24 hours after a delightful afternoon romping around Blackie's Pasture with my 5-year-old, germ-carrying cousin, I lie in bed with a virus of great proportion. Rick, my sweet beau, delivers groceries and high-tails it out of my diseased home.

Later, my neighbor Michelle comes over to walk my dog, bringing a vitamin packed potion from Whole Foods, something called Motor Oil. She sits by my sick bed, encouraging me to drink the healing sludge.

In her late 40s, Michelle's a successful CPA. She's pretty with long, thick red hair and flawless fair skin. Although she's never been married, she has a nice, stable relationship with a nice, stable man. Frankly, that's why I've never written about her before; perfection is boring.

As I get to know her better, however, I'm discovering she has endearing quirks. Like the motions she goes through while walking Duffy, her high-strung terrier with a few oddities himself. Her boyfriend, Alan, refuses to walk with them.

"Too many rules," he complains. "Duffy doesn't like that dog. Don't walk in front of that door. A cat lives here. Go over there. Oh, he hates that man. Cross the street."

Michelle thinks her boyfriend doesn't like Duffy. She might be right. When her dog gets excited and humps her leg, Alan quips, "I think I'll leave you two alone." Then he actually leaves for a while.

Today, Michelle shares her latest news with me: she's almost engaged. Even in my feverish state, I realize this might be worth jotting a few notes. I get her permission and grab my pen.

"Alan says I watch the worst TV," she begins. "I love reality shows. He always tells me 'stop watching it.' He says the people aren't real. I think the people on Platinum Weddings are real. The Kardashians is probably staged. The Bachelor has got to be real. Has to be. I'll be crushed if it's not."

"I'm with Alan on this one," I interrupt. "I watch Law & Order reruns."

"You don't know what you're missing. Anyway, I was watching Platinum Weddings on Friday night. The couples are madly in love. The man proposes and they're both so happy. After it was over I called Alan. I said, 'You know what? You're getting me a ring.'"

"Impressive approach. What did Alan say?"

"He was quiet for a while," Michelle answers. "You know Alan. But, I told him I need a ring come our 5-year anniversary. I've been dealing with him spending all his spare time building that cottage on Mt. Tam and it's time for me to get a ring."

"Let me see your left hand," I instruct.

"I don't have it yet. He said it won't be much, because he put all his money into the cottage. I don't mind though. A simple ring is all I want. I've picked it out. I told him I don't care about the size. I just need to know he's committed."

"Is he?" I ask.

"He is. He told the guys at work and one of them, Russ, told his wife and she was on my side. She thought I should have done it sooner."

"Me, too," I say. "Congratulations on you're almost engagement."

"I guess we'll even get married at some point," she laughs. "You look tired, Nikki. I'm going to let you get some rest. Call me if you need anything later."

"I will," I answer. "Thanks for helping me out today."

As she heads out of my room, I turn on the TV. I hear the front door open and right before it closes, Michelle calls out, "Platinum Weddings is On Demand. You really should watch it."

I flip through the channels. This must be the only hour of the week without an episode of Law & Order. Sighing, I pull up the WE network from the On Demand menu and select Platinum Weddings. It's schmaltzy and sentimental, but I understand. I want to wear that ring and dance in that dress. I want to be that woman.

Luckily for my chronically non-committal Rick, I get his voicemail when I phone him after the show ends. Fortunately for me, there's still an entire season of Platinum Weddings waiting to be watched and he's bound to answer the phone after one of them.

e-mail: nikki_silverstein@yahoo.com

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