I almost always talk about the Mean Lady with my tongue firmly in cheek. She is, indeed, rather cruel as a Pilates instructor. However, she’s pretty nice when she’s not asking me to do the 100s but really making me do the 200s, or telling me I’ve only done 15 reps of something when I know it was 17. Or more likely 20.

Last night I went to her wedding. It was beautiful and fun and joyous, like all the best weddings are. She was radiant, Mr. Mean Lady was verklempt, completely undone by his luck — and he is, indeed, very lucky. But to me the wedding was an object lesson that I didn’t expect to learn when I met her two years ago.

Mean Lady was in her late 30s. She was trying to go out with a guy who kept changing the day and time — too busy to commit to her. As a drummer in Dream On an almost all girl Aerosmith tribute band (you can read that again if you need to), as well as a couple other bands, she often had gigs around the Puget Sound area. I was trying to find a time to go to one, because really, how could you not? One I didn’t get to? At the Tulalip Resort on the Tulalip Indian Reservation. She met two guys that night. One was a dog lover who lived on a boat. A dog lover with such an intense dog love that snuggling and smooching his four legged friend might have been higher on the list than snuggling and smooching this beautiful woman.

Lucky for Mr. Mean Lady. Because he was the other guy. He didn’t live in Seattle. Then. She drew him back eventually.

I’d like to say that once the relationship blossomed she was nicer during our sessions, but that would be a lie. However, she was annoyingly smiley and giggly and happy. She got engaged shortly after her 40th birthday, about a week before this woman who was sure she couldn’t get pregnant (and was fine with that) found out she was pregnant. Eventually, she was sure she was having a boy. Which she isn’t.

And here is my lesson, as I walk this path to my second act: you just don’t know what will happen around the bend. You can be as sure of something as it is possible to be — death and taxes sure — and you can be wrong. Two years ago if I had said she’d be married with a little drummer girl in her belly, she would have made me do an extra set of elephants for being unrealistic.

So thank you Mean Lady, for being so wrong over the last couple years. it gives me hope for my own future. Now, maybe on your honeymoon you and Mr. Mean Lady can work on your counting skills.