I'll admit, I do consider myself to be fairly well-travelled for my age.

That said I am aware I might be one of the only 26-year-old girls who hasn't been to America. Ever.

Not for want of trying, obviously. I have cast my mind back and by my estimation Chris and I have said we are going to the States annually for the last five years - did I mention we are life's 'talkers' rather than 'doers'?

More often than not, we would vocally make plans together to go for our anniversary, sometimes we even got as far as looking at hotels.

But what with work commitments, visiting friends and of course the inevitable lack of funds after Christmas, it just never happened.

How fitting then that 2010 - already what I consider to be one of my truly 'great years' - will see my first ever visit across the Atlantic.

That's right, we are going to New York. And not just in theory either - this time it is all booked and paid for.

My priorities before we go are finding a trusty Lonely Planet guide to the Big Apple - I hear there is a Sex and the City tour - and of course making every attempt to clear my credit card... My suggestion that Chris economise with his packing to make way for my new purchases went down like a lead balloon.

What's more, we are staying in Times Square, which is where we will be when we wake up on the morning of our tenth anniversary - marking a whole 12 months since 'the engagement'.

Honestly I am quite proud of myself for insisting - it definitely wasn't 'nagging' - that we make such an effort this year, not only because it is a landmark event, but also because we have to top, or at least equal, the Rome trip.

But every triumph comes at a price.

The mere mention of going out to dinner for Valentine's Day this year had Chris nearly hyper-ventilating.

"We can't do that," he cried. "We have just booked to go away; we need to save our money. I tell you what I'll cook you a lovely dinner at home."

I am not proud of my next comment, and yes, I'm fully aware of how spoilt I must seem... "But you cook for me every night," I complained. "So you really will have to make the effort and pull out all the stops to make it really special."

At that point Chris stopped what he was doing to look at me, before sighing and shaking his head. And then he made his way back into the kitchen...

At the weekend we had a yummy mummy come to stay, my friend Laura.

In the last two years, she has got married - hers was one of the many weddings I went to back in 2008 - and had a beautiful baby boy. So though she is nearly a year younger than me, she is the one I look to for guidance in these matters.

What's more, she is my oldest friend. We bonded at the age of 11 sharing a dorm at school despite the fact she laughed at my briefcase - which I might add was on the list of school requirements - and called me a 'boffin'.

And we really can talk with the best of them. Combine a bride-to-be with a recently-married new mum, and conversation is not only never-ending, it is also an abundance of high-pitched giggles and sharp intakes of breath... After the first hour Chris silently disappeared to do some 'reconnecting' of his own, albeit with his Xbox.

We discussed everything from the table plan to the colour scheme to the wedding cake. But it was only after she had gone back home, I realised that touching base with her had left me feeling inspired.

After all it's hard not to be impressed by a woman who was able to plan her own wedding and reception in just three months. Three months - I find that extraordinary, it has taken Chris and I that long to decide on the font for our invitations.

Since the weekend I am trying to seize every day. And my new state of mind has inspired me to throw myself back into the wedding planning - yes, we have been in a bit of a lull.

In just one day I achieved an extraordinary amount, finally working out all the wording for the three different types of wedding invitation we need, and even beginning to compile a playlist for the reception.

And just in case my new-found enthusiasm does start to wane, I am encouraging Lau to come for another visit next month - this time she is even allowed to bring her husband!

Prior to getting engaged, I did not consider myself to be a traditional kind of girl.

In fact if anything I probably liked to think of myself as someone who does things a bit differently.

And before people write in, no, there is no real basis for this way of thinking. But then I do have a bad influence in my life - one of Chris' (many) reasons for taking so long to propose to me is because he is a 'rebel' and does not want to conform to society's standards... his words, not mine.

But, as it turns out, when it comes to wedding customs I am sticking like glue to the rule book.

The first indicator I that I was a 'conformist' was during a discussion with five girl friends not long after I was engaged. During a conversation on the subject of getting married, I was asked whether I would be taking Chris' surname.

And I smiled, anticipating either a joke or perhaps a rant on the equality of rights between men and women. But I got neither.

Because there was absolutely no expectation that I would become Mrs Strong; it was a genuine inquiry on a subject that ultimately divided the group.

I know this is a controversial topic, and I by no means assume my opinion is the correct one. But for me, taking on a new name is not submissive, nor does it in anyway reflect the power play in our relationship - for the record I am in charge.

There genuinely hasn't been a moment when I have considered not taking on Chris' surname. For me, that is part of the excitement and I will be so proud to become his wife on paper.

And from my perspective, being all united under a family name, particularly when we have children is important.

Maybe I am being a bit old fashioned. But it does seem to be a relatively recent trend among brides today.

When I was little, it went without saying that the couple would end their wedding day with the same name... even as a child having fairytales read to me, I assumed that once Cinderella and her prince got together and lived happily ever after, she would become Mrs Charming.

Perhaps I would feel differently if I didn't have a brother to pass on the family name.

I can't say for certain, but I do know how happy I will be the first time I sign my new name. And I can't wait.

It's amazing how much you can achieve when you put your mind to it.

More incredible still is what you can achieve when a whole day of wedding meetings have been arranged for you.

Which is precisely what Chris and I were blessed with when we headed to Bickleigh Castle for our catch-up meeting on the Friday before Christmas.

Primarily we were there for the food tasting - not much of a chore admittedly. From perusing the menu, and being creatures of habit, we had already anticipated which of the two options per course we would choose.

But, as is so often the way, our opinions completely changed and we eventually decided upon the alternative choice in every course - bar none.

Food down and we went along for a meeting to touch base with Sharon. Good news there - we are all up to date and right where we need to be planning-wise... admittedly I can only say this having since raced down to get the wedding actually registered.

The next stage in the day was, for us, probably the most exciting. We met our amazing photographer, Andy Green, who had travelled all the way from Birmingham for the occasion.

Both Chris and I love his work so much that I want to give him an entry of his own - suffice to say that our introduction has made the photography one of the parts of the wedding we are most looking forward to.

And then it was time to make final arrangements with our florist Polly. We did the lot - bridal party bouquets sorted, floral table decorations done, and even flowers to be displayed around the castle were all agreed upon.

As the evening set in, our little party embarked on the final mission of the day - photographing and taking notes on each of the bedrooms at Bickleigh in preparation for us starting to allocate guests.

Eventually, like a couple of children, the excitement of the day proved too much for Chris and I. We both feel asleep on the car journey back to Hampshire, exhausted from the early start but oh so smug with how productive we had been.

It would be fair to say that there is not much I don't know about Chris.

Certainly his full name, date of birth and job title are all things I have managed to master over the course of our relationship.

And yet as I sat in the registrar's office over the Christmas holidays, newly-separated from my soon-to-be spouse by an ominously long corridor, I had the distinct feeling of butterflies in my stomach. Not in a good way either; these were the nervous ones.

Totally ridiculous of course. The afore-mentioned 'facts' were quite literally all I had to show knowledge of, but in that moment of pressure with legal warnings and words like 'fraud' printed in heavy font, I started to feel flustered.

Of course, my fears were unfounded. Turns out that I definitely do know Chris' middle name and on what day he was born.

I will admit there was an awkward pause when it came to describing his job. Ladies, paying a little more attention when your man begins the daily rundown of his working day is probably to your advantage.

Thankfully in a truly inspired moment, the phrase 'certification project manager' came to me - probably making me seem like a more attentive partner than I actually am.

And in a weird twist of events, it turned out I even managed to give a more detailed account of Chris' job than the man himself, which earned me an unbelievable amount of brownie points.

So two signatures and £60 later and we were on our way feeling pretty pleased with ourselves. For not only had we just legally registered our wedding, we had also just passed our first real relationship 'test'.

In roughly four hours - three hours and 15 minutes to be precise - I will officially be on my Christmas holidays.

And it's going to be a busy two weeks off. Because not only have Chris and I done absolutely no Christmas shopping - admittedly fairly standard by this point - but we will be back down at Bickleigh on Friday for a very important wedding meeting.

Yes, finally, it is time to choose food and drink - very seasonal in my opinion!

As usual we will have an escort of supporters including the in-laws, my brother James, who hasn't seen the castle yet, and Lisa, who are all "coming along to help".

We are both so excited. Not only to see Sharon and Sarah again, but also to meet our amazing florist Polly for the second time, and to be introduced to our photographer Andy Green - a hugely talented man, whose work we fell in love with immediately.

Of course in the midst of the Christmas run-up and with the wedding meeting so close, it has not escaped my attention that this is my last festive season as a 'technically' single woman.

This time next year I will finally be Mrs Strong and I can't help but wonder what changes will come about with that.

For starters I fully intend to spend it with my new husband. Traditionally Chris and I don't spend December 25th together - he stays with his family and I go to mine.

There have been just two exceptions to this rule over the course of our relationship - in 2000, the year we started going out, when he stayed at my house, and then in 2006 when I reciprocated.

Knowing how much he likes to spend time with his brothers, I tentatively asked Chris earlier this year whether he would like for us to spend this Christmas together - seeing as we were getting married and all.

"What just the two of us?" my beloved replied. "No, that's alright, imagine how boring it would be."

Yes, it really must be love!

One of our friends from school recently asked me how many single girls would be at the wedding. A question, I imagine, on the lips of many of our red-blooded male invitees.

And thanks to our recently completed guest list (I am allowed to still be smug), I had a pretty good idea right off the bat.

The answer - sorry boys - is near on none. Zero.

Many are married, many have children, many have both, and the rest are nearly all in long-term relationships.

All of which - and I don't know if this is just my friends - seems to have happened in the last 18 months.

If you'd have asked me five years ago, I would have hedged my bets that we would have been first up the aisle. And, though I am embarrassed to admit this now, I probably would have been upset by the idea I wouldn't be.

Someone recently suggested the reason we weren't first to get married was because everyone else moved quickly. But then it clicked that come February Chris and I will have been going out for ten years... a decade to look at it in a more depressing light.

Reflecting on this with Chris we concluded our life together could have turned out very differently, and that waiting until now to marry was absolutely the right thing to do for us.

We are both incredibly proud of our relationship and in particular for surviving those teen years. There were no unexpected pregnancies or dramas, and we even sacrificed time together (really quite maturely) to go to different universities to follow our chosen professions.

So we might not be first, second, third or even 20th down the aisle. It doesn't make any difference, because, for Chris and I, the timing is just perfect.

Where would we be without our friends?

Just as I was starting to get the overwhelming feeling I was drowning in wedding tasks, my best pal Lisa instinctively came to the rescue.

As far as I'm concerned everyone needs a friend like her. We are two peas in a pod, but for the all-important difference that she is super organised. When she says we are doing something, it really is going to happen and usually pretty quickly.

I wish I was like that - Chris and I are 'talkers', the 'why do something today you can put off until tomorrow' types. So Lisa's visit last weekend was exactly what we needed.

Come Sunday night, we had our final (colour co-ordinated) guest list finished - we started at 120 people and culled down to 76.

Plus we had drawn up, and decorated, a very pretty countdown chart assigning tasks to each month, and found time to discuss and research the hen night.

Think that's impressive? In those two days we also fitted in a shopping spree and celebrated her birthday.

According to my new organiser chart - one A4 page per month complete with clip art - our next rendezvous will be at Bickleigh next month for the tastings.

I am thinking of that visit as a well-deserved reward for our recent invitation ordeal. But in the mean time there is plenty to do, and certainly no time to shirk responsibilities... Lisa has a copy of the chart too and left promising to check up on my progress.

Where has this year gone? Already November is here and the incessant Christmas chatter has begun - for those people already bragging about starting or indeed finishing their shopping, its not impressive... frankly it's just depressing.

I am not some sort of festive Scrooge. After all what's not to love about presents, food, family, guilt-free chocolate for breakfast and seasonal slurps of alcohol?

No, my need to put December off for as long as possible is because I can feel time slipping away - not, I should point out, in some morbid way. Purely in terms of planning.

You see Christmas was a great midway point when it came to setting deadlines.

Choosing and sending the invitations? We can concentrate on that after Christmas. Bridesmaids and their dresses? That can wait until the New Year. Groom's outfit? We'll think about that in January.

So I have in actual fact set myself up for a horrendously busy and super-productive start to 2010.

I know it will be fine - we still have eight months and counting until the wedding. But I wouldn't be me if there wasn't an air of worry and panic when it comes to something this important.

I think for my own sanity I shall set myself one little(ish) task to accomplish come Christmas - say choosing the invites.

And thankfully there is great news on that front already. As I speak, handmade samples are winging their way to me courtesy of the very creative and talented Sabrina - a real star who is now totally invaluable to me.

So you see, things are looking up already!

Last week I finally managed to drag Chris along to my bridal dress shop to have his wedding ring fitted.

We learned two things from this experience - firstly, I have particularly slim fingers. Secondly Chris does not.

Thanks to my engagement ring, I already knew my size alphabet-wise. But since the fittings are being done in-house there was a new, not very tricky, method to comprehend; swapping letters for numbers.

So out came the six or so size cards - likened by my husband-to-be to a spaghetti measure - each punched with five holes each. And unsurprisingly I was the smallest, an eight.

That done, it was over to the groom. Knowing Chris has got what I affectionately refer to as ham hands, I knew he was going to be needing the cards towards the very back of the pile.

What I did not anticipate was that none of the samples would fit. And quite incredibly they went up to a size 24.

That left us with no choice but to order him a size 26 in a white gold flat band, and the female equivalent for me but in the curved design.

While I resorted to childishly hiding my giggles, Chris was not fazed one bit by that potentially embarrassing episode.

I am assuming this is down to his decision not to wear his wedding band anyway - apparently jewellery is not his thing.

That said it is obviously important to make sure it's clear he is off the market once we are married, so I'm taking steps to come up with some other ways to brand him.