Editor's note: The Reluctant Groomzilla will be here this Friday, March 28, to do a live reader Q&A from 11 to noon. Is there something you've been dying to ask him? Now's your chance. Submit questions here.  

Those of you who have lived in the District—or at least gone out to bars in Georgetown, Foggy Bottom, and downtown DC—probably know the Flower Guys. There are two or three who come around to the bars every evening selling flowers—usually roses. They even came by a restaurant I was at a few weeks ago. Talk about a great sales pitch. Can any guy with a girl afford not to buy one without looking like a cheapskate? Of course, you look pretty cheesy if you do. You can’t win.

I can’t even tell you how psyched I am right now. Josh, our blogging groomzilla—whom the whole online staff (the women anyway) would probably have a crush on if he weren’t, you know, engaged—is coming in this Friday to do a special chat. Ask him anything—okay, anything that has to do with him and weddings—and he’ll answer between 11 and noon. He’s hilarious, so don’t be shy.

Our dog, Milo, refusing to speak to us until we register for doggie treats!

Last week, bride-to-be Emily shared her outlook on registering. This week, Bridal Party's groomzilla gives a different perspective.

The best part about getting married (other than the whole finding-the-love-of-your-life thing) is that you get lots of presents. Apparently, there are engagement presents, shower presents, and wedding presents. I can understand why Carrie from Sex and the City got so upset about single people never getting to register. Just a few weeks after getting engaged, my fiancée and I started thinking about it. We hadn’t picked a place or a date, but we knew what we wanted in housewares!

Josh—our hilarious blogging groomzilla—is taking today off from posting . . . so I’m using his space to open the floor to questions.

It’s funny—I think men worry more about how to ask someone we love to marry us than about things that are truly earth-shattering, like the decision to launch a nuclear strike or something. Of course, society doesn’t make it any easier. These days, event proposals are in. There are whole Web sites devoted to how to make your proposal unique. Hiding a ring in dessert not only means you have no imagination—it means you simply don’t love her enough!

However, among the many reasons I’m very lucky to have fallen in love with my fiancée is that she hates surprises. Let’s just say that making sure I got the right stone and the right band was very easy, because she helped me pick them out. (This worked out well because apparently I have no taste in jewelry whatsoever.) So if you’re looking for a way to really surprise her, this is not the place. May I suggest trying out your Google skills? But if you want to surprise her after she picks out the ring, I’ll tell you my story.

If you're planning a wedding, you may want to start by reading the real estate section of your favorite newspaper. The key to real estate, of course, is location, location, location. Well, that and avoiding sub-prime mortgages, but that’s another blog altogether. One of the first things you will have to do when you get engaged (after a quick course in pronouns: “We” is in, “I” is out, as in “We think that save-the-date cards are a great idea”) is figure out where your wedding will be held. And as in real estate, location is king.

Meet Josh, Bridal Party’s very own guest-blogging groomzilla. He’s giving us the groom’s perspective on wedding planning and everything that comes with it, so check back every Wednesday to see what’s new.

I’m sure you have all heard the old adage that life isn’t about the number of breaths you take, but rather the number of moments that take your breath away. Well, here is another pearl of wisdom, courtesy of your buddy The Reluctant Groomzilla: The couple that travels together, unravels together.

Okay, I’m exaggerating. But there’s no doubt that after what color the tablecloths should be, the most difficult decision to make about your wedding is where to go on your honeymoon.