Ok, so I know weddings are supposedly a time of “joy and laughter,” and I’ve only been to 5 weddings, but thus far I’m not the biggest fan. How in the hell can I enjoy myself when I’m forced to wear a pink dress with a bow meant for a 4-year-old. Can I please just wear my black leather jacket for the love of GOD? I hate dresses and more than that, I rarely wear color. I’m not gothic or anything like that, I just love black, and I look good in black, at least I think I do.
Envision me standing in front of a mirror at David’s Bridal wearing a pastel dress (meant for a 4-year-old) that won’t zip up the back; because lets face it, my body isn’t what it used to be.
Consultant at David’s Bridal - “Honey just remember it’s not about you, it’s about them.”
Me: “Why? Why is it about them? They will be happily married, meanwhile, I’m the single one desperately looking to snag anyone at this God-forsaken wedding, and how in the hell am I going to accomplish that wearing THIS?”
Three of the five weddings I attended were extremely religious, and sometimes I feel as though I’m sitting through a sermon rather then celebrating the love. It’s all about the love, MAN. I dibbled and dabbled in religion for a year or two in high school when the fear of burning in hell was driven into my brain. But now that I’m older and have a brain of my own, I find all religions to be quite fascinating, and cannot allow myself to buy into the belief that other people will burn in hell simply because they have their own religions that are just as beautiful, if not more so, than Christianity. Anyway, there is a time and a place for religion, but in my humble opinion, weddings are not the place!
My brother’s wedding was absolutely beautiful and I almost couldn’t complain except that I had to wear a pink dress with a bow. If you know me at all, you know this is an abomination of everything I stand for. I really make an effort to look like a badass all of the time and when I’m forced to wear a pink dress with a bow, a part of me becomes suicidal.
And then there was the wedding where I was shunned. I went stag because
I didn’t have a date it was a small wedding in bumfuck Ohio, and I knew I would recognize some fellow classmates. I did, and I walked up to their table and asked if I could pull up a chair. They said no, but not before mumbling something about other people joining their table. For the record, I didn’t ask to take an existing chair at their table, I asked if I could pull up a chair, God Dammit. Fucking assholes. I ended up at a table with a family of four who didn’t drink alcohol; oh joy. But I did get to wear black because I wasn’t in the wedding party.
Maybe it’s not weddings I hate as much as I hate our traditions. I’m already giving you a day of my life for the actual wedding, and then you expect me to go to the rehearsal dinner as well, not to mention the engagement party, the bachelorette party, and then the wedding itself. How many gifts do you want from me!? And then in the end, 50% end in divorce, and that number doesn’t include all of the cheaters and sex addicts out there. Can I get my money back please?
And the white fairytale dresses that women spend thousands of dollars on? You will never wear that dress again, but I guess at this point, I will admit that it makes me cry every time I see the bride walking down the aisle in that white fluffy gown.
An average wedding costs around $20,000. I know you’re probably thinking I’m about to go on a rant about feeding the hungry and etc. I won’t go there, but I will say that I would use that money to fly to Thailand and roll in mud baths with beautiful elephants - my dream vacation - before I would ever spend that much money on a wedding.
And why in the hell are we still taking our husbands last names? I mean, I understand if you have a last name like ButterFluffer, but when you have an awesome last name like Jackson, why in the hell would you ever get rid of that?
I know by this point you’re thinking I’m the most miserable bitter person you’ve ever met, but I must report that I’ve cried at all five of these weddings. I really have. I love these people with all of my heart, and I’m the sappiest person you will ever meet, but I’m just not a big fan of attending weddings. This could change if one of you single ladies out there would throw a wedding where I could wear a sexy black pant suit instead of a stupid fluffy pink dress, provide me with unlimited cocktails, free the entire ceremony of religion, and give me a roasted pig. I would joyfully attend your wedding and leave my complaining behind.