Fever Pitch

Along with the promise of blue skies and warm weather, spring brings with it the dreaded wedding fever. Maybe it's because I am at the age when people are pairing off like mad or maybe I just never noticed it as much, but this year has brought with it an unprecedented amount of engagement craziness. I feel as though I have to gear up to kick off a summer/fall/winter of wedding events and none of them are even mine. Even at the gym I can't avoid it. (Although, maybe I should expect even more of it there, being all women, all the time.) Gaggles of giggly girls bunch together to show off diamonds, discuss chicken v. beef, indoor v. outdoor, dj v. band, good v. evil. Oh, wait...

Not that I want a wedding. Girls everywhere will probably kick me in the shins for even admitting this, but I am so not a fan of traditional white-dress-catered-meal-DJ-country-club wedding. I'm not even a fan of being a bridesmaid. I'm not a fan of bridal showers. I'm not a fan of bridal shower games, Jack and Jills, bachelorette parties. I'm not a fan of people you barely know from infancy demanding to know why they weren't invited. I'm not a fan of dancing with my Dad, even if it means they get to play Butterfly Kisses by Bob Carlisle (shudder). I don't want to do the Electric Slide, the Macarena, or the Funky Chicken.

It's not even that I don't want to go to someone else's wedding. If it makes them happy for me to be there, who am I to complain about some free champagne? (And the couple's happy moment, of course.) But it does set every other woman up to compare herself to others before her. Originality and fun just kinda go out the window when you're worried that your cousin's best friend's sister's dress cost twice as much as yours.

Even though the idea of a wedding repels me, the idea of marriage does not. I'd just like to think that if I'm going to spend a lot of money on a party for my friends and family, it wouldn't be held anywhere near old men in golf pants and that my friends would know better than to order me a cop-that-comes-to-break-up-the-party-then-strips-to-his-thong. They should definitely go with the fireman. Gets me every time.