Saturday, February 24, 2007

The Annals of Being a Bridesmaid #2

Another entry (names changed to protect the innocent and long-suffering). We love this woman's attitude!

My worst bridesmaid story involves many separate weddings, all leading up to the worst. In the past 2 years, I have been a bridesmaid 4 times and a reader/guest book watcher/ insert other crappy job, numerous others. Until last Saturday, I had caught three bouquets at the past weddings because as everyone knows, if you’re single you are forced to go up and catch the bouquet. [Ed. note: Erin finds the bouquet toss to be the perfect opportunity to hit the ladies room.]

In the past, the running joke had been to “aim for Jessica” (uh, me). Ha ha, isn’t that clever? The first or second time I heard it, I tried to make a joke out of it and say that I need more fake flowers in my apartment anyway or I appreciate the opportunity to practice my superior catching skills.

Regardless of the impressions of friends, I do not view my self as a desperate single. I have a good job, I’m currently working on my MBA and I like to think that I am reasonably attractive. I also have a boyfriend whom I have been dating for quite awhile, who is also in graduate school and looking into getting his PhD. I am happy where I am and truthfully would not want to change anything until we were both out of school anyway. However, if you were to ask my engaged/married/pregnant friends, because he has not purchased the obligatory iceberg for my hand, I must not be happy.

Last Saturday, at my best friend from high school’s wedding, while wearing my 3rd consecutive strapless burgundy bridesmaid dress, I reported front and center to the “single’s circle,” ready to await a parcel of flowers hurled at my head. To my surprise, I did not see any flowers aiming in my direction. Had the bride mercilessly decided to by-pass my presence and give it to one of the 3 eight-year-old flower girls that so desperately wanted them? Alas, no. My friend had snuck up behind me to HAND THEM TO ME. Yes, that’s correct. Apparently neither my catching skills at the last 10 weddings, nor my luck at finding a man who would possibly want to marry me could be trusted, and to ensure the traditional joke and folly, she thought that singling me out (no pun intended) and handing me the bouquet was best.

To top it all off, the person that caught the garter was her 10-year-old cousin, who appeared mortified to have his picture taken with me. He must have thought that being single was contagious. I could have cried, laughed or even run out. Instead I chose to smile; after all was her day and someday even if I never marry and am eaten alive by my various cats, I know that I will have a very lovely apartment. It’s a good thing I like fake flowers.

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