Attending a wedding always reminds me how much they don’t really work for me. Case in point … Saturday’s wedding for my boyfriend’s roommate.
Large spacious hotel banquet room … check.
Coordinated flowers, tables, centerpieces, cake … check.
Cheesy DJ playing songs involving choreographed group dancing like the electric slide and that one about one-step, two-step, cha-cha … check.
Wedding reception competitions like the bouquet toss that I no longer take part in … check.
[Three of six weddings attended, I have “won” the bouquet. The first was a legitimate catch, but the second, it landed at my feet and everyone else stepped away from it and the third, my cousin’s, it hit me in the head. I no longer join these rituals … ]
It’s just funny to me how they are all starting to run together lately. Different colors, different people, different cities, same everything else.
Granted, it’s probably the people who were getting married and their choices and that they wouldn’t be my choices. But I read somewhere the other day that brides are now starting to experience post-wedding depression because they spend so much time getting ready for the wedding, the BIG DAY!, they don’t know what to do with the marriage and can’t handle not being special any longer.
Call me crazy … but seriously, ugh.
And the money they are spending … Holy Shit! Seriously … ten thousand or more for one day.
And you can’t attend these things without thinking about what you would do?
The good weddings I have been to? Probably my closest friends. My friend Caroline’s on the side of a mountain in Jackson Hole, WY. And I’m looking forward to a DC wedding for KJ. These are special people though to me.
Me … I think it would be really cool to elope. Me, the Guy, alone somewhere beautiful. We’ll have a picnic when we get back and swap some cake, booze and barbecue for presents and seeing everyone’s smiling faces.
Or maybe just a really, really small dinner ceremony. Just my family and his family and only some select friends that we couldn’t possibly imagine not sharing this day with. Max – 30 people. And then you invite everyone else you know in the world to that picnic a few weeks later.
I don’t even like engagement rings. I don’t think my promise to someone else that I’ll marry him and spend the remaining days of my life with him should require said person to drop thousands of dollars on a sparkly chunk of crystallized and heated carbon. And how come the man (or woman for some of us) doesn’t get to wear something too?
I’m not saying matching sweatshirts or whatever, but it’s just so one-sided, wedding these days.
A lot of people probably disagree with me. That’s cool. That’s why we are different people.
Here’s the thing though too … if someone was serious enough about me (and I them) that they wanted to marry me, I can only guess that they’ll know me well enough to know I’m like this and probably are of the same thought process. And I hope they like barbecue … barbecue and my cat in a small tux.