More Bridesmaidyness

Next month, I will be participating in what I believe will be my 9th (!) wedding (and this one is over Valentine's Day weekend -- the Universe has upped the ante on just how much love it is going to cram down my throat before I just slit it open....) and this past weekend, I flew to Nashville for bridal shower/bachelorette duties.

I don't have much to share about the festivities (what happens in Nashville, stays in Nashville and all that) but the bridal shower did include another chance for me to "give marriage advice to the bride," which you can imagine I'm amazing at, having never been married. The advice was to be written on a wooden spoon.

I let my friend's three year old write it for me:

I really think that's probably the best marriage advice I could've given. 

Anyway, since I don't have more to share, I thought I'd repost my write up from last August as a consolation prize. Enjoy!

Smug Marrieds

Let me start by saying -- I love love. I love marriage. I am always honored to be a part of people's weddings: as an attendee or a bridesmaid or by playing songs on the piano from the Little Mermaid while guests file into the church (Yes. I did that once as a child. It was background music and no one realized what is was from, don't judge me).

But as I've mentioned before, I've never been one of those people who just needed to be in a relationship. Not that marriage/kids isn't one of my goals - it is - but unless I'm just crazy about someone, I'm going to choose being single over settling, every time. But it is frustrating the older I get, especially when "are you dating anyone?" is the first question out of everyone's mouths and if I tell people I'm not in a relationship, it's like I've short-circuited them. And it gets worse during wedding festivities.

At my age, I've been to roughly 9,007 weddings/bridal showers/bachelorettes and not that I wouldn't want all that tradition for my own wedding - I totally will -but after a while, you feel like you are just going through the motions. I've become the female version of the Wedding Crashers, practically betting people around me whether they're going to quote First Corinthians or Colossians 3:12 during the ceremony. And bouquet toss? Forget about it. I'm the epitome of this scene from Sex and The City. Except, you know, I'm not speaking Italian. Usually. (I guess the You Tube copyright police ignore uploads as long as they aren't in English? But you get the idea of the sentiment at least):

So with my shoulder shrugs ready, I headed to Atlanta last weekend for yet another friend's bridal festivities.

Let me set the scene:
-I'm the only non-Indian/Pakistani bridesmaid, which already singles me out a bit.
-I'm one of only two out of the whole group who is not/or has not been married.
-I'm 5'8. The tallest of the other girls is about 5'4 on a good day. The shortest? 4'11. I felt like Elf.
Or, like this:

And we had a whole weekend of events and I didn't really know anyone well except the bride. And many of the other bridesmaids had never done a traditional American bachelorette night out so they came armed with accessories, games, and talk of staying out all night on our last night. (I'm getting too old for this).

I immediately set my sights on the pregnant one and silently vowed that when she went back to the house, I was going with her or would die trying.  

(She actually lasted longer than I expected, but still enabled me to get back to my bed --aka The Floor (I'm getting too old for this) -- before midnight, so I count that a success.)

But we need to back up to earlier that day: The Bridal Tea.

First of all - I loved the venue, very southern and very girly and totally something I'd want as well.


We walk in, and not only is our bridal event there, but on the same floor, the rooms next to ours are also all bridal events. You couldn't swing your string of pearls without hitting a sign that said something like "The Future Mrs. Bearman!" or "Chrissy's Bridal Brunch!!"

I started texting my single DC friends for back up.

I walk in and find that not one, but two ladies are pregnant in my room, one with twins. I immediately feel like I'm in the Bridget Jones scene where Bridget has dinner with "smug marrieds" and everyone is paired up around the table and they stare up at her in robotic unison and one man winks and starts patting his pregnant wife's stomach saying “You really ought to hurry up and get sprogged up, old girl. Time's a running out. Tick tock."

I texted more furiously.

I got back the response,  "Stay away from sharp objects. You sound very vulnerable right now."

Very funny. But before I could harumph too much at my DC friends' obvious enjoyment of my being left to the love-intoxicated wolves down south, we had moved to:

The reading aloud of inspirational quotes about marriage, portion of the day.

::Face Palm::

I had already asked my friends for help with this assignment, and they suggested I just write down the lyrics to Maroon 5's "Pay Phone" and call it a day.

Very helpful, thank you friends. You will now absolutely be asked to sing "I honestly Love You" for my reception. Especially if you are still single. 

So clearly I was on my own in this and thankfully found a couple quotes that were nice enough to offer, but not so nice that I'd accidentally dry-heave in the middle of reciting them. And of course, by luck of the draw, I was chosen to go first for this reading.

And thank the Lord I was, because shortly after me:

everyone started crying.

There was talk of love and why it's so important to stop and look around on your wedding day, and how this man is now your family, etc. etc. And then there was something about each other's "love languages" and at that point, I nearly dry-heaved anyway while everyone else was having "and it's just! so! beautifuh-uh-uh-uhlll!" moments and I sat there practically whistling, looking around to see if anyone else had eaten their cheese straws yet.

I started texting again. "I mean, I wasn't going to have dessert, but I mean...."

I get the response, "Whatever gets ya through, man. Whatever gets ya through."

I giggle to myself and the tea ends just in time for us to move to the art project portion of the weekend:

Working with broken glass.

So much for staying away from sharp objects....

In the end, the weekend was actually pretty fun (and I got a nice new personally-mosaic-ed bowl out of it, so there's that.) And as I'm typing this, no joke, I just got an email from the last bride who's wedding I was in and her email says "you can thank me for not having you do this." And apparently there's a new trend in weddings called: "Bridal Party Boudoir Photos," where the whole bridal party gets photos done like this:

So at least I wasn't asked to do that during the weekend

And of course, my friends are lovely brides who deserve all the fanfare. I just find the Bridget Jones-esque moments too hilarious not to comment on. And I recommend that if you are a bride out there with friends who are single or just don't have very strong googly-eye genes, just don't take it personally if you find them texting when they are supposed to be sobbing over just how darn special weddings are.

And maybe stay clear of broken glass projects too. Just in case.