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Can you feel it in the air? It’s a sudden shift in the temperature, a buzz in the breeze, a whisper in the wind. Yeah, sure spring is coming and the personal hell that is allergy season, but more specifically, wedding season is approaching. It sure just snuck up on us, didn’t it, that sneaky bastard? Wedding season, a season of “love?” More like a season of shelling out straight cash, homey, amiright? It’s the extreme domino effect once the save-the-dates start arriving, the bridal shower invitations roll in, followed by bachelorette e-vites, and finally the wedding invitation itself.
“Why don’t you just say no?” Well, you can’t exactly do that and still be considered a decent human being… so it’s always a “can’t wait!” reply, isn’t it? I usually just sigh and check the wedding registry to purchase something in an average price range, and once the big days actually arrives, I slap on my Spanx and a smile and head out the door.
Bridal showers? Sure, I’m down to watch you open up every single gift, and I’ll even help make your ribbon bouquet hat. Bachelorette party? I’ll break out a cute little dress so we can go to whatever club you want to overpay for bottle service and to dance in a circle sipping vodka-clubs out of dick straws. And as for the actual big day? I am a fantastic wedding guest. I well up at the ceremony and the father-daughter dance, I gather large group shots for the photo booth, I mingle at the cocktail hour when it’s time to mingle, I listen and smile and laugh to the God-awful wonderful speeches, and I dance when it’s time to dance. Fucking hell, I even plop myself front and center for the bouquet toss.
The only thing that keeps me sane, that keeps me grounded, that keeps me smiling throughout all of it, is keeping little wedding season mental notes. Oh, you think this is for my own potential planning? No, no, I am not here to compete with anyone for “BEST WEDDING EVER!” I’m taking notes about who owes me what. And some people owe me BIG. I’m here to make sure that I am given my wedding season restitution.
Bridal Shower Reparations:
“They last for hours and they’re kind of shitty” is the biggest understatement of the century when it comes to bridal showers. Now, is it me, or is there always some sort of weird tension in the air at a bridal shower? Either one bridesmaid doesn’t like another or the groom’s mom is miffed that she didn’t get to invite all of her second cousins. Whatever it is, there is never enough alcohol around to subdue it, and in addition, you’re always stuck playing games to prove who knows the bride better. (Quick – what street did she grow up on? What was her childhood pet’s name? Where did she and her husband meet? You don’t know the answers; well, aren’t you a shitty friend!)
You have to stick around to the end (usually when all the booze is gone) so you can watch the bride (slowly) open all of her (ridiculously large) gifts and read every (sappy) card, while some poor bridesmaid scribbles down names and gifts. C’mon, people, we all know Bethany is Dyslexic, don’t make her do this job, just give her the bow-hat duty.
With that said, if you think that I am not having a bridal shower, you are sorely mistaken. In fact, at the top of the guest list to my bridal shower is every single bride whose shower I have gone to, and I don’t care if we haven’t spoken in seven years. There will be game after game after game to prove who knows me best — the really obnoxious ones, too. I plan on opening each present slowly and reading every goddamn word on every card at the pace of the kid from Billy Madison’s third-grade class. There will only be enough rum punch and appetizers for exactly ten people, so happy Hunger Games, friends. Can’t wait!
Bachelorette Party Quid-Pro-Quo:
Look, I love any excuse to get together with my friends and go out, but lately, some outrageous elements of bachelorette parties have now become the norm. I mean, shall I begin with the overabundance of dicks? Penis cake, penis lollipops, penis straws, penis necklaces, penis rings, penis games…Penis pretty much takes up a good portion of bachelorette parties.
Look, I’m not a prude, but there’s only so much dick one chick can take. Also, I would like to know which trust fund baby decided that destination bachelor and bachelorette parties were “the thing?” No, I am not talking, “Oh let’s hop in the car and drive three hours to _____ (destination that is fun/a decent car ride away).” I’m talking about the “Let’s hop three flights to go to St. Thomas/Vegas/France/Miami/Cabo/LA for the weekend.” First of all, no. Second, what in the actual fuck?
As honored and excited as I am to be included in the celebration, we have begun to go above and beyond here, ladies. I mean, no matter where we are, we’re going to squeal while we pop champagne and dance in a circle in our matching outfits. And that’s the last thing — why do we all have to wear the same exact fucking thing or have that one bridesmaid who dictates every aspect of an outfit? A couple of years ago, I, along with several other unsuspecting victims, was sent a bachelorette party itinerary from the maid of honor (which, yes, was planned down to the minute). It included the following details: “Pack your best little black dress, which MUST be strapless — it cannot be a halter! Also, no other heels in any color but black, skinny jeans (dark blue only), and a bathing suit in a dark color (black, dark blue, charcoal, etc).” I beg your fucking pardon? Is this recruitment week? Did I miss the memo? Why does one chick get to decide what I wear for 48 hours?
Again, you would be remiss if you think that any of the above would warrant me not having a bachelorette party. No, quite the opposite. At this rate, I am owed a trip on a luxury yacht for at least three months, so I hope everyone is saving up their PTO. We are going to dance every single night, so pack your little black dress, dark-hued bathing suit, and highest (read: sluttiest) heels. I am not paying for one single thing, and everyone must wear what is decided for them, penis jewelry (obviously) included.
Ceremony/Reception Reckoning:
I’ve been to some great weddings and then again, I’ve been to some that are just short of a catastrophe. From the invitation to the big day and the glorious hangover after, here’s what I have in mind for some people:
You will not get a plus one, and I will guilt the shit out of you for even thinking of not coming. You obviously will not be served any alcohol until cocktail hour begins, so, pack your flask, buckeroo. The ceremony will start and run fifteen minutes late, too, outside in the sun in summertime. No photos, please, only the real photographer, and I will tell my thirteen aunts to stare you down and take out your phone if needed. At the reception, you will be seated with absolutely no one that you know, while people that you do know are seated together, laughing, across the dance floor. You will sit through eight ten-minute long speeches about how wonderful I am and how much I mean to the speaker, during which the bar will be closed. The DJ will play absolutely none of the songs that you request.
Oh, and after attending my bridal shower and buying something big and expensive from my registry, and after paying for most of my bachelorette party, don’t even think about skimping on a wedding gift. I come from a large Irish family, and my dad, my uncles, and my cousins Marky, Ricky, Danny, Terry, Mikey, Davey, Timmy, Tommy, Joey, Robby, Johnny, and Brian will be told they can’t go to the bar until they’ve checked that every single person dropped a fat wedding card into the card box.
At the end of the night, there will be exactly one short bus that will serve as a shuttle, on which you will not get a seat — just awkwardly hunch over in the aisle for the duration of the ride, during which time someone around you will throw up. There will be a small after party in a hotel bar that has exactly one lazy-eyed bartender who can’t handle the crowd and takes too long to get drinks. You will lose any and all buzz you had, go to bed early, yet wake up with one of the worst hangovers of your life.
Call me spiteful, call me crazy, call me any other equivalent of either word, but after all of these years, I deserve a little reimbursement. I have four weddings to attend this year, which is more like twelve in girl years when factoring in all of the bridal showers, bachelorette parties, and actual nuptials themselves. It seems like whomever I talk to this year has a multitude of celebrations, too. So, whatever degree of distress you (and your wallet) are feeling, I would like to offer you not only my condolences but also the number one strategy that I have accrued throughout numerous seasons: take names and take notes. Also, always pack a flask..
Respond
@_mmmk8
Oh, you got married right after college and have 2 kids now and can’t come to my bachelorette party? Wrong answer, put on your uncomfortable heels and make your shit husband keep them for the weekend.
Leave me with both kids for the whole weekend? Are you out of your mind!? No way!
Disagree- not married here/ no kids and I find it SUPER annoying as well. Who cares if you don’t match as long as 1. The bride is having fun and 2. You are having fun. These over planned events I go to are absolutely stressful and on a tight budget as is hard to swing. The whole wedding thing is just over done in my opinion. It’s just a day- be happy you found someone to spend the rest of your life with and not put on a spectacle.
I’m glad I’m a guy and don’t have to deal with all this shit…
I’m a 3x bridesmaid this year so I feel this so hard
2x bridesmaid, 2x “attendant”. Can’t your younger cousins do your guest book and hand out programs like I had to growing up?
I think it’s more of a slap in the face to be an attendant than to not be in the wedding at all. Assigning me as an attendant shows I’m just not good enough to stand by you, but you feel bad. No, give me a free pass to just enjoy the wedding without a shitty “responsibility.”
And yet everyone calls me crazy for saying when (if) I get married I’m going to try to convince the bride (TBD, sup) to have a nuclear family only wedding and afterparty then instead of a reception just travel to 3/4 friend/family hubs and have a blowout weekend.
I think this would require a very very easy going bride of the nonexistent variety
Yeah I’m definitely going for a courthouse wedding followed by a reception at my parents’ cabin where everyone will get wasted and play yard games. Weddings are such a waste of money that could be used on a bitchin honeymoon and 1/3 of a house. I mean I’m painfully single so maybe I’m clueless and bitter, but the more weddings I go to, the more stupid I think they are.
I like getting wasted and playing yard games…
What the hell, I’m not getting any younger
SUP?
Sup yourself. Now then, what part of the country is our reception taking place?
The lakes area of Minnesota. But just a heads up, the courthouse is 30 minutes from the cabin so there will be some travel required for our witnesses.
You got yourself a husband.
Awesome. That was so much easier than people make it seem.
Guys stop. This love story is gonna make me start crying at work.
I’m sorry we’re so adorable.
Convienence>Love every time.
Love fades, but convenience is forever.
Should we start with a drink or just meet at the courthouse this summer?
A drink is probably a good idea. Just so we know who to look for at the courthouse.
You can find my SC in my profile. The shot is yours F4.
Kobe!
Uhhhh, sup?
This is 100% the move. My fiancee and I are getting married in November and having a very small destination wedding with only immediate family and a handful of very close friends. Then later we’ll do a few fun parties for other family/friends who we like but aren’t close enough to make the invite list. Saving a ton of money over a full 200 person wedding too, even though we’re going to Costa Rica.
My bf an I discuss this exact scenario monthly. Our vows are for us and our mothers. Plus, I’d rather spend that money on a bougie trip with those I like and minimal stress.
Sup?
Team Elopement, ya dig?
Mackay and Varina at the same bachelorette party would make for quite the entertaining event
I think that’s called divorce so just wait a few years lol
girls are so mean to each other. jeez.
They all secretly, but not so secretly, hate each other.
Miss Mackay, what funny things have your students said lately?
Abe Froman, the sausage king of Chicago?
If your bachelorette party is paying for it’s own bottle service, something isn’t being done correctly.
A bachelor/bachelorette party with that much detail planned into it sounds like hell