wedding season
March 10, 2010

You probably didn’t think it could get much more dangerous than that Anthro + puppies thing, did you?

But you thought wrong. Because I am going to be … wait for it … an honorary bridesmaid.

Yeah, at first I wasn’t really sure what that is either. When my friend Katherine – who got engaged shortly after I wrote this manifesto about my love/hate (or, let’s be honest, love/love) relationship with all things wedding – gave me the job offer last Friday I was all, of course! Thank you! That’s so sweet! Now what the f does it mean?

I’m still not 100% sure, but it appears as though the title of “honorary bridesmaid” entitles me to the best of both worlds. I get to go to the bridal luncheon and the rehearsal dinner and of course the bachelorette party, but I don’t have to plunk down a wad of cash for an unflattering dress I’ll never wear again. Sign me up. All the fun with none of the responsibilities!

(Except to help her decide whether to order her gown in champagne or ivory. A task I take very seriously, obviously.)

While I’ve had lots of acquaintances get engaged and even married, Katherine is the first of my close friends to have a ring on her left hand, the first one to call me – squealing – right after it happened. I’m so, so happy for her,  but I have to admit, it’s a teensy bit strange for me to think about the fact that she’s going to have a new last name four months from now. Especially since I was with her when she met her husband-t0-be. During an adult kickball game. Yes, actually.

But she’s getting hitched, whether I’m ready for it or not. Come July, Dave and I will be making the 10.5 hour drive down to Lake Junaluska, North Carolina, where we’ll meet Katherine’s Extremely Southern Mother and drink sweet tea and pretend like we don’t actually live together (in sin) and maybe even hit up Dollywood, because, yes, Lake Junaluska is far closer to Tennessee than UNC. And, most importantly, I’ll get to spend some time with Katherine, before all the guests and madness descend, before she stops being the silly, semi-awkward KJ I met 2.5 years ago and starts being someone’s wife.

Best of all, I can do it all in the dress of my choice.


engagement season
January 7, 2010

One of my new year’s resolutions (in addition to CALM THE FUCK DOWN, a perennial favorite) is to stop talking about all things wedding-related.

And I’m going to get on that, I swear. Starting tomorrow.

Because before the moratorium kicks in, it must be documented that everyone and their mother has gotten engaged over the past four weeks. Like, actually. One of my friend’s mothers just got engaged.

I can’t figure out if this is symptomatic of the holidays, an aberration that we’ll see crop up every December from here on out. Or – the scarier possibility – if this is just the start of the Wave. You know, the Wave of adulthood. Whereby everyone stops getting carded and starts getting married, gives birth, joins the PTA and then gets old and dies. Or at least stops going to happy hour.

This isn’t just about having no free weekends in June, you see. This is serious.

The thought of this string of engagements continuing at the pace that’s been set since Thanksgiving is completely petrifying to me. The announcements are no longer limited to the couple that’s been dating since they were 10 or the couple that refuses to have sex without a ring. I’ve seen ex-hookups, ex-boyfriends, guys who cheated on their now-fiancees with my friends, kids who were my reporters at the college paper, a couple that met on Jdate eight months ago – all go down once the temperature dropped.

I know that I could ignore all the talk, somehow filter out those engagement announcements on my Facebook newsfeed. But the truth is…I love weddings. I’m a little obsessed, actually. Which is where the resolution comes in.

Yes, I’m super-sarcastic and cynical and have been told I have a heart of ice. But I love jewelry. I love dresses (true story: as a child, my parents would punish me by forcing me to wear pants for weeks at a time.) I love parties. I love being the center of attention and spending my parents’ money (just kidding about that last one, Mom!) Oh, and I kind of love my boyfriend too.

It’s a recipe for disaster. Said obsession combined with my expert reporting skills means that I’m basically aware of every engagement in the tri-state area. And some on the West Coast too.

It needs to stop, and not just because Dave has started automatically crossing the street when we pass by the boutique bridal shop in my neighborhood. It’s because as much as I can’t help pointing out every single jewelry store billboard that dots Philly’s diamond district, in actuality, I’m not that girl. I don’t really want to get married super young – at least not for the right reasons – and I don’t really feel the need to have a ring on my finger when I’m already living with the guy who’s probably sticking around forever. As much as my outdoorsy brothers like to think I’m just a ditz with a credit card (cue Cher Horowitz), it’s not true. I have a good head on my shoulders, and I know what’s important in life. It’s just that sometimes the glitz and the gossip distract me. Which is why, unlike all those people swearing to lose twenty pounds in 2010, I’m actually going to follow through with my resolution this year. After all, there are a lot of cute dresses out there, and not all of them are white.