As a thirty-something gal, who’s been with the same guy for 6 years and owns a closet chalk-full of dusty bridesmaids dresses, you’d think I would have put some thought into my own wedding day.
Well, no. So a couple months ago when my own boyfriend put my ring on my finger - and I finished my fit of hysterical laughter (sometimes my emotional wires get crossed) - the planning process came crashing in on me like a pile of pill bottles in a shallow medicine cabinet.
I know….I should have seen it coming. But my feelings about the institution of marriage were so uncertain, that I believe I cognitively avoided the wedding topic all together.
Plus, something about the bridal industry freaks me out. I think….it may actually be…. a cult. I picture Martha Stewart as its guru, and chipper cardigan-clad party planners as her minions….pushing candied almonds at vera wang trunk sales and turning us expectant brides into lack-jawed zombies who throw our money at the almighty wedding god.
So, I’ve got 6 months until the big day. And I am going to attempt to navigate this emotional minefield without becoming brainwashed, broke, or dumped.
1 comment:
I read the last line as, "And I am going to attempt to navigate this emotional minefield without becoming brainwashed, broke, or drunk."
And I was going to say, honey, it's so much easier when you're drunk.
Post a Comment