Wedding March Blues

I have to go to this wedding this weekend. To say I'm not a wedding person is a gross understatement. They make me feel skittish and uncomfortable. Everyone asks you when you're getting married an' all that. Well, they stopped that with me. Being divorced has its merits. Oh, yes, I got married. It wasn't the marriage and the divorce that made me semi-anti-marriage, I was that way long before all that. I'm not the bitter divorcee.

Ok, I know you're wondering "If she admits to being semi-anti-marriage, how did she manage to get married?" The answer is this, I was weak and caved. I was tired of being nagged about it. Not the most romantic reason, is it? Isn't it a wonder we didn't last? We eloped. And I was scared shitless the whole time. I don't remember much of it. It's all a blur. But, as marriage-phobic as I am, I managed to last with that one for a decent amount of time. 7 years, I think. Granted, our separation was nearly as long as our marriage, but let's not quibble over trivial details. I learned my lesson: Never marry young. Or marry at all, if you can help it.

Back to the wedding this weekend. I didn't even know that the guy (a distant cousin of some sort on my father's side-- have to go because he's "family", no way out of it) was engaged until I got the blasted invite. I conveniently forgot about the whole thing until recently when I was asked what I was wearing. Hell.. I don't do well in "grown up" clothes. They're itchy, confining, etc. I almost never wear dresses and/or skirts. But it's a wedding. I figured it's time to suck it up and be a big girl now. I need to buy a dress or a skirt. So I got it. The skirt. Love it, actually. So why am I grumbling? It's a mild form of jealousy.

No, I don't want to get married. Been there, done that, have the battle scars to prove it. I'm not even sure I want to be in love either. I'd just like to know that there might be maybe one sane man out there that might be just a bit attracted to me. Someone I could possibly be attracted to as well. That's not too much to ask for, is it? Why do I get all of the crazies? The one's who are all "I'll love you till the day you die" with that slightly glazed look in their eyes. You know, the future Charles Mansons. So I'm kinda jealous of the people that manage to find a nice, normal person that they like/love. I, on the other hand, am working my way through the DSM-IV.

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Hee!:
Cockeyed.com's very funny Atkinz Menu prank at TGI Friday's.