Wedding season is full of beautiful things.  Happy couples smitten with each other, cute magazine covers, beautiful cakes and decorative displays, embossed invitations and, of course, the dresses.  But it also has a dark side. The gossiping bride’s maids, the death diets, the overpriced gifts on registries, and the ever-present fake smiles. 

I recently found myself in the age group of people getting engaged or married. Since I have maintained my single-ness for several years and thoroughly enjoy it, I welcomed the endless save-the-dates, clever requests to be a bridesmaid and invitations to help plan for their big days.  

Unfortunately, my joy was short lived when i came to the realization that there is so much glitter and flowers for a reason.  To hide the fucking horrible, devastating, claws-out, reality-tv-esque type of character flaws that come flying out when nuptials are in a 100-mile radius.  I’m not just talking about the brides — I mean everyone. Including myself. I have done things waiting in lines at decoration stores and in the car driving to get to another shower that would make Kim Jong Il wince in his grave. I don’t know what happens when two people decide that they want to celebrate their life-long commitment to each other; the air becomes full of toxins that make everyone human with any sort of female attributes or tendencies go absolutely insane. 

So, tomorrow is my first actual wedding this season.  I’ve decided that the only acceptable way to make myself more human is to consume large amounts of vodka and champagne.   Wish me luck.