The single perspective: weddings and my "special day"

Oh, how a long weekend of bartending at weddings makes me weary. The endless parade of weddings every Saturday and Sunday has just about spoiled it for me. As a young single woman, I find the endless contact with this part of American culture to be quite problematic.

You see, when we are little, girls have the idea of a magical unique romantic dream wedding surgically implanted in their psyche. I think it's a special feature on the Cinderella DVD.

And I, like so many women before me, tragically believe it too. When I started working weddings, I was still "awwwing and ooohing" over the couple and saying, "isn't this romantic?" as I picked up napkins containing half chewed miniature beef wellingtons. The rhinestone tiaras couldn't have shone any brighter if they were made of actual blood diamonds.

37 belligerent drunks and 200 "At Last"s (courtesy Etta James) later, I admit the romance has completely worn off. Catering is a silly business, where the caterers pretend that you are special when they've seen it all before, and we create a mountain of waste in tulle and cellophane that gets tossed 6 hours later. The American dream wedding should be offered in an aisle at Walmart.

So I originally placated myself saying that if I were to marry, my wedding would be so unique and different no one could possibly ever duplicate it. All natural! Organic! Super creative! One of a kind mind blowing perfect specialness!

But I admit, I've seen some pretty creative weddings. And I've got very little material to add that hasn't been there before. And even if I do make all my guests wear orange from head to toe and get married in an inner tube in the middle of a lake with a mime for the officiant, it will still end with cake and somebody who drank too much. And Grandma really shouldn't be forced to lounge in the lake as we steadfastly replicate the 4 hour hand-fasting ceremony of our Norse ancestors. It'll be too chilly, and there won't be any good bathrooms.

And so what, right? Yeah, I know, so what. It's true that all that really matters will be the man and my friends and relatives. I believe that. And I know it will special.

I guess I just wanted it to be different, and I have been overwhelmed with the "sameness" of all the weddings I've seen. How did "Brick House", and Kool and the Gang become the rote rituals of our time? And why do I feel that it is somehow inevitable that someday I must bend to their awesome power? The wedding tradition in the US is so restricted and so...same. I just don't want to one day go to my wedding and feel like I've already thrown this party 2000 times.

I know, I know. I'll just have to dig that chip out of my forehead and be satisfied with the love and affection of the people I share my life with. I don't need to try and prove myself the most unique person in the world with a stupid party. And even if I were the most unique, what would I be proving?

A wedding is just one day. And dreaming about it is a silly pastime. Mine, if I ever have one, will in some ways be just like ever one else's. And that's okay I guess.

Resistance is futile. I will be assimilated. (But I still refuse to do the conga).

-Heidi