You've Been Swell, But I'm Not Getting Married

I could never, ever get married.

OK, I suppose that’s a bit of an overstatement. I could. I mean, physically. There’s nothing stopping me from getting married. There’s not like, a statewide ban on me tying myself to someone for all eternity, or anything.

I started thinking about this in earnest last night when I got a very nice third-party imaginary internet wedding proposal. Yep! I am the fanciest. So just check your inbox for the invites for my imaginary internet wedding! (I will expect many imaginary internet wedding presents, by the way. I'm registered at many imaginary internet locations!) I just highly suspect that the strain of planning and actually going through with something of that magnitude would cause either a Bridezilla-style breakdown, with screaming in operatic tones, or me to crawl up in the corner of my closet and rock and weep. And I have really, really tiny closets. Like, dollhouse closets. It would be very uncomfortable in there. But somehow I’d make it work. And I’d rock and weep and everyone would be at the church but no one would really be all that surprised, because I think the main surprise would have been that there was a wedding at all. I think the main surprise would have been when they got the invitation in the mail in the first place. “What? AMY? Getting MARRIED? This can’t be right. Another Amy, maybe? With the same name? Who thought THIS was a good idea?”

I like weddings. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve been to some. They’re nice! They’re so optimistic, what with the white dresses (yeah, right, you’re not fooling anyone, but whatever) and the smiling and the vows and the wee little ring bearers with their tiny little tuxedos and such. Yes, yes, they make me cry. That kind of unbridled optimism, that’s worth a few tears, I think! I mean, you kind of want to applaud the fact that these people, in spite of the odds being stacked against them, have decided, hey! Let’s do this! We’ll be the exception to the rule! WE WILL LIVE OUR LIVES HAPPILY EVER AFTER!

Well, that would be nice, wouldn’t it? But I’m not all merry sunshine, and all I can think (quietly, in the back of my head, I don’t ruin people’s weddings, I’m not that much of an ass) is “Man, that’s a HUGE pile of gifts. How are they going to divvy those up when this all goes to hell in a handbasket?” 

And the ceremony itself – ok, I would be the worst bride. Ever. EVER. Seriously. Like, you’ve seen Bridezillas, right? I wouldn’t be all screamy-yelly-“you didn’t get the RIGHT COLOR HAIR EXTENSIONS!” like that, or anything, but there are a lot of things that I take exception to in the wedding ceremony and in the celebration afterward. So much so that I think the only solution would be to elope. But I do like the idea of having a celebration in front of people. So I’m torn, really – on one hand, it would be nice to celebrate this unmitigated optimistic insanity in front of people (especially people, who will remain nameless, who have said, and I quote, “It’s ok if you’re a lesbian, you know” because I’m not married yet. Yes. I know it’s ok. Thank you for your permission. I’m not a closeted lesbian, I’m just FOREVER ALONE. Thank you for that), but on the other hand, the logistics of getting what I want are so insurmountable, I think that possibly it couldn’t happen. 

For example: 

Church wedding vs. civil ceremony: I have issues with the church so I don’t think I could be married in one. Also, the church makes you take marriage classes, and I don’t have time, energy or patience for that. And I think if I stepped foot in one at this point, I would go up in flames, and poof, there goes the very expensive fluffy dress. But I have family members who would not be in the least bit pleased (and I think would most likely think it wouldn’t count) if I were married outside of the church. So then there would be a war. And who wants to start their wedded bliss on a battlefield? I’m already getting acid reflux and this is just hypothetical. 

The dress: I look like death warmed over in white. So no white. But then does everyone think you’re a whore? Because I’m not really a whore, per se, just really pale, and white makes that look worse. Also, I don’t like wedding dresses. They all make you look weird and matronly and frilly and bedazzled and like you’re trying too hard or they’re too casual or they’re too tight. Can I get married in pajamas? I’m the most comfortable in those. And that would be pretty! So, so pretty. But I totally get a veil. VEILS ARE AWESOME. Everyone looks better in a veil. That is a proven fact, buddy. 

Bridesmaid dresses: WHY THE HELL ARE THESE ALWAYS SO UGLY. Listen. Is it a thing? Like, you don’t want your bridesmaid to look better than you so you get them the most god-awful dress in America? And they have to PAY for it! And they’re never going to WEAR it again! As long as they’re all respectable, any woman who I like enough to ask to be a bridesmaid can wear whatever the hell they deem appropriate. And, since I picked the women, I know it will. Don’t pick jerks to be your bridesmaids and they won’t pick stupid clothes like tube tops and red satin hotpants. 

Bridesmaids, ushers, maids of honor, etc.: Listen. There is one person I want to stand beside me when I get married (well, other than the imaginary groom.) And he’s male. And that’s not negotiable. The person I feel closest to (I hesitate with the “BFF” thing because I’m not a tween) is a guy. So, is that allowed? No, right? Because it’s like a slap in the face if he’s just an usher and one of my other friends, who are great and all, are my maid of honor. Because when I’m having a meltdown, he is (I absolutely guarantee you this) the only person who will be able to get me to calm down from it. He is the Amy-whisperer. And if he’s ushering, how is he supposed to calm me down? Too busy seating Aunt Isabelle and her huge hat! BAM MELTDOWN NOW THERE’S NO WEDDING I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY WEDDING ETIQUETTE. 

Ceremony nonsense: There are two things in the wedding ceremony that would make me walk out and not come back. First: “giving the bride away.” Because I’m property! To be gifted to a man! That’s awesome. No, seriously. “Who gives this woman?” “Her mother and I do!” Here is our daughter! Our gift to you. Now you feed and clothe her, as she is unable to do these things herself! Stupid useless women! I HATE THIS SO MUCH. I assume it still happens. It did at the last wedding I went to. I know, I know. It’s a custom. Well, it’s an outdated and sexist one. And I flat-out refuse. I already told my father that if I ever get married, he was more than welcome to walk me down the aisle, but when the officiant said “Who gives this woman,” I would have a speech prepared that went along the lines of “Actually, this woman gives herself, as she belongs to herself. And she gives herself freely! With the understanding that she is not giving up any more of herself than she feels comfortable giving, and can, at any point, take back anything she has given, as she is a person, and not property. Thank you all for coming.” (My father’s response? “It’s probably a good thing you’re not getting married anytime soon.”) Second: “honor AND OBEY.” Ha. HA HA HA. I haven’t “obeyed” anything since I was old enough to crawl. You think I’m going to start now? Nice try. First you give me away, then you tell me to obey? What they hell am I, a runt puppy that wouldn’t sell so I’m up free for a good home in the Pennysaver? 

Money: I don’t like that the bride’s family is expected to pay for everything, based on the outdated practice of a bride price. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t think the price should be split between the parents of the bride and the parents of the groom, either. I think, if the bride and groom can’t pay for their own damn ceremony, they don’t deserve a big shindig. Sorry. You get what you work for in this life, and why should you get a huge party you didn’t pay for yourself? 

Vows: I like the idea of writing your own vows, as long as it’s done well. I do not like things like “Baby, I knew from the minute I met you, you were the one. I can’t wait to start our journey together.” Did one of the contestants on The Bachelorette write your speech? No. If you can’t improve on the vows as they’re written, stick to the vows that are already there. 

Cake-smushing: If you smush a handful of cake into my face I will most likely slap you and walk out of our reception. Seriously? This isn’t funny. This isn’t cute. This is messing up a really pretty and well-done face of makeup and nice hair and possibly getting on a very expensive dress. And it’s demeaning. And – worst of all – YOU ARE WASTING CAKE. Which is a capital offense in 14 states. No, don’t look that statistic up. I’m telling you it’s true. WHY DON’T YOU TRUST ME. 

The dollar dance: I went to a wedding where they did this when I was young, and I didn’t understand it then, and I still don’t. Because it’s a little like begging and a little like prostitution. Both things you absolutely want at your wedding, right? If some man came up to me at the reception waggling a $20, I’d knee him in the balls. I’m not a pole-dancer, Uncle Mervin. Put the $20 back in your pants and look for someone who’s showing too much cleavage on the waitstaff or something. 

Whatever that shit is that’s going on with the garter: This is an excuse for someone to cop a feel, pure and simple. And who the hell even wears garters anymore? And that garter isn’t even holding anything up. It’s a scrunchy. It’s a fancy wedding leg-scrunchy. I have no interest in this and I think it’s gross and tacky. 

Brides and grooms who are weird about the gift registry: You are lucky anyone gave you anything. If you don’t like it, return it. Stop complaining about free stuff. Do you think pirates ever complained about their booty, arrr? They did not. And they RULED the seven seas. Yes, it’s annoying that you got two toaster ovens. You know what’s more annoying? Waking up alone and cleaning cat vomit out of your shoe. SUCK IT UP Whiney McUngratefulface. 

Animals: Releasing animals after a ceremony annoys me. Yes, yes. I know. It’s all done with the utmost care. Listen. I don’t think those butterflies or doves want to be raised and then shipped somewhere and then catapulted into the air to celebrate your love, I really don’t. How confused must they be? You know what I think you should release on your wedding day? 43,000 carpenter ants. A celebration of “building” a life together! And the gift that keeps on giving for the owners of the place where you got married, huzzah! 

Things I don’t have a problem with and actually think are kind of cute, surprisingly: when people clink on the glasses for you to kiss (I know, you’d think that would annoy me? But it’s honestly kind of adorable); throwing the bouquet (but women catching it, please show decorum, this is a wedding, not a barroom); decorating the back of the “getaway” car with stuff (but if you put anything vulgar or stupid or scratch the paint I’m going to hang that crap plus more all over YOUR car one night WITH SUPERGLUE and see how you like it.) 

See? THIS IS A HUGE LIST. There’s no WAY I could get away with all of these things without looking like an anal-retentive Bridezilla feminist shrew. So no wedding for me. Sorry, people who were planning on coming to my super-awesome wedding in which I was pretty guaranteed to throw the tantrum of the century. You’ll just have to wait until it happens organically. I’m sure it will. Just be patient. For example, I’m pretty cranky about seeing someone misspell “Bethlehem” (BETHLEHAM? Really? IT’S A TOWN NOT A PORK PRODUCT) on an envelope today. Fingers crossed!