Momnesia

Wedding, schmedding

They say that even the most unusual woman becomes a traditionalist where her wedding is involved. I am not so unusual, and I’d have been perfectly happy to go along and live my life with Scott without a huge wedding. Without even a small wedding. WITHOUT A WEDDING AT ALL.

Every decision I make is second guessed by everyone but my sister, who would only second guess me if... Actually, I suppose I’d have to kill someone before she does.

• I’m not having a garter taken off my upper thigh. It’s degrading. Scott is pissed off about this. I will forever thank Aubrey for agreeing with me in front of him. Of course, his mother thinks I’m insane. “I don’t get it. It doesn’t make sense to me,” I told her. “But, it’s tradition!” she replied.
  
• I’m not throwing a bouquet. It’s stupid AND degrading. I’d just throw it to my sister, anyway, so it’s pretty useless. “But, honey, all the single girls will be disappointed,” my mother said. “Well, they can cry in the breakroom at the typing pool, mother - 30 YEARS AGO!” I replied.
• I’m not doing bride’s side/groom’s side. “But why?!” Scott’s mother said, and I made up something about it holding up the seating process. She let that go, thank god.
• “What are you going to do with your hair?” my mother asked. “I dunno. I figured I’d brush it. That’s more than I usually do,” I replied. If looks could kill...
• “What shoes are you going to wear?” my mother asked. “Shoes?” I replied. “Uh, I hadn’t planned on wearing any.” I tried to follow her response, but only dogs could hear her.
• Will everyone leave me alone about the food? You’re lucky we’re even having any, you bunch of moochers.
• Speaking of food, since when does the paster NOT get invited to the rehearsal dinner? What kind of lunacy is this? “But, they’re doing a job. I mean, you hire them for it, they’re not really IN the wedding,” his mother told me. “Um, no. They’re just running the wedding. I wouldn’t feel right about not inviting him.”
• I really really wanted my dog at the wedding. You don’t know how much I adore my dog. My mother went absolutely off on me. For days. About how I was ruining the wedding. Embarassing her. Four of the nastiest emails I have ever received. Fine. The dog is out. But I’ll be pissed about the whole thing for a while.
• No one seems to be able to just smile and say: “That sounds nice.” They wave their arms and holler about tradition, and “it won’t look right”, when they really mean: “That’s not the way I want it.”