I feel bad for anyone who asks me about my wedding — I can talk for hours. It’s shameless, really.

Actually, I feel bad for anyone how talks to me period. You could be talking about Rush Limbaugh and I’ll find a way to bring the conversation back around. (“Oh, it’s terrible what he said to the Georgetown student. My friend Gabby goes there. Funny thing, she’ll be at the wedding ...”)

I find myself saying things like that. I’ll say “funny thing” or “the really interesting thing is . . .” Only to walk away and realize there was absolutely nothing interesting about how I probably won’t have a flower girl unless my girl cousins from California fly in and blah blah blah.

I’ll tell perfect strangers, “Well, I’m getting married this summer.” I throw this out there constantly. I blurted it out to a stranger earlier this week outside the Pathmark.

He was trying to sell me pies, so I said, “Well, I’m getting married this summer, so I’m on a wedding diet.” It was the perfect defense/segue/solicitation of a compliment.

He said congratulations, but it felt cheap. Yet what can I do? I’m a little addicted to all of it: Talking about my wedding, writing about my wedding and — of course — being congratulated on my wedding. Is that bad?

I wonder what I’ll talk about when it’s all over.