Going to the Chapel and I'm Gonna Get...humiliated.

It's almost that time of year - Bridesmaid season!
Bring on the annual foot- killing heels, dresses that make me look like a puffy cupcake, hairspray, an empty wallet and a LOT of alcohol to go with it. I haven't always been hesitant about weddings. I was excited about them until about two hours in to my first wedding in 1993:

After arriving at the venue thirsty as shit I grabbed a glass of water and sucked it down, dicovering too late that this is not water but champaign. I was 8 and tipsy and I don't remember much else from that wedding until the bride threw her fucking flowers, which landed on my face then slid to to floor. I just stared at it as the DJ announced over his microphone that the silly little girl was "afraid of the bouquet". Damn right I was afraid of it! I still am!!

I avoided weddings for the next two decades or so, staying off the dance floor when I did go to one, because let's face it- awkward white girls are like, the worst dancers.

Then I attended a friend's wedding a few years ago.  I made myself go on to the dance floor after I had a few drinks and I flopped around out there like what I'm guessing looked like a retarded seal until this dude's massive boot heeled me on my ankle. I thought he broke it. Nobody noticed. I hobbled off the floor to the bathroom and cried for a few minutes, then spent the rest of the night attending to a highly intoxicated bridesmaid. I had to wear flip flops and limp around and for a week.



Later that same year, I braced myself for another overpriced shindig celebration of marital bliss. This time my ex was going to be there, so I decided to bring a sexy date. Duh! yeah...he didn't show. He was with another girl.

  

When one of my best friends was about to tie the              

knot in 2011, we planned a really fun bachelorette  

party. There were ten girls and I was the single one, which somehow turned in to me sitting at the bar alone, being hit on my this moron in giant fake glasses who later fell on TOP of me in a drunken stupor while the rest of the ladies danced with the attractive, normal guys.

Fast forward to her wedding. I don't need to describe the illustration to the left....

April 2011. I only knew the bride, and nobody would talk to me. By now I'm starting to think I'm a leper or something. I felt more out of place than Kate Middleton

at a Jersey Shore convention.

                                                                                                                           

August. My first time shooting an actual wedding. I worked my ass off for 15 hours, and when I finally sat down, my worst enemy arrived. Tell me how, in a nice venue, when there are over 150 people, did the evil arachnid find ME, and land on my shoulder, and give me a coronary in front of said people?

I was lucky enough to have Cory, who dropped his cell phone on it. 

Fast -forward to the next bachelorette party, where I am, once again, the only single one. Don't you love it then one fo the girls say "Hey, since you're the ONLY single girl at this table, and our waiter is hot (oh how hot he was), can you entertain us all and get his number?   REALLY?? The poor guy was so not interested, and he walked in on us talking about eating placentas (don't ask) and I eventually had to tell her to stop humiliating me. UGHGGHGHGHGH!!!

So we throw her a shower the next day,

and I slipped off the the bathroom and

when I returned, the hostess was kind 

enough to announce that my shirt was 

tucked in to my underwear, exposing 

my ass cheek. To All. Gee, it's a good thing 

my ass looks like Jello covered in pudding 

topped with cheese....

fa lalala la, lalala:

I have another wedding to attend this weekend, as a bridesmaid. I hope it goes well, because at the rate I'm going I am heading toward a future of Psychobride, and people will fear me!!!!!

to be continued.....