It’s Like Rain On Your Wedding Day
There are two sides to everything. Except spheres. And Klein bottles. And things with more than two sides. And…nevermind. Anyway! Never is this more true than when good friends, or old friends – or good AND old friends, God save us – get married.
Diana was to be married in five more days. The gray house at Orchard Slope was in a turmoil of baking and brewing and boiling and stewing, for there was to be a big, old-timey wedding. Anne, of course, was to be bridesmaid, as had been arranged when they were twelve years old, and Gilbert was coming from Kingsport to be best man. Anne was enjoying the excitement of the various preparations, but under it all she carried a little heartache. She was, in a sense, losing her dear old chum; Diana’s new home would be two miles from Green Gables, and the old constant companionship could never be theirs again. Anne looked up at Diana’s light and thought how it had beaconed to her for many years; but soon it would shine through the summer twilights no more. Two big, painful tears welled up in her gray eyes.
“Oh,” she thought, “how horrible it is that people have to grow up—and marry—and CHANGE!”
The BRIGHT Side:
- You have a compelling reason to get in shape.
- You might actually get in shape.
- You can dress up without having to justify it (she says like she LIKES dressing up and doesn’t avoid it like she avoids torturing herself with blunt cutlery).
- You get all the fun with none of the attendant stresses! Don’t need money, don’t need a man…totally worry-free. Vicarious living ftw!
- If it’s a family wedding, you get some LOOT – the wedding gold that one person can’t POSSIBLY wear in their single short lifetime, and which they are FULLY EXPECTED to distribute to the sundry girls of the family. They get hitched, you get bling, everybody wins!
The DARK Side:
- You are kind of losing a friend. YOU ARE. Anyone who says otherwise is LYING, including your friend.
- You might be expected to do like, bollywood dancing. This is against your personal religion of never dancing where anyone can see you EVER. Unless there is some kind of monetary incentive. A sizeable one.
- You have to get a present that is actually not a toaster. But then you also realise there is nothing on the earth you can BUY for this person, and the thing you have to get is NECESSARILY priceless, and then you realise you can’t AFFORD priceless because you are, as we say in the south of London, well skint. And THEN you realise you will probably not get anything and in the end it’s all okay because you don’t even have to buy a toaster. So basically, yes, you are saying:
‘You’ve no idea how hard I’ve looked for a gift to bring you.
Nothing seemed right.
What’s the point of bringing gold to the gold mine, or water to the Ocean?
Everything I came up with was like taking spices to the Orient.’
…so I didn’t get you anything, ‘kay? ^_^
- Everyone will interrogate you about why you’re not married yet. Then they will lecture you about your age (advanced), figure (unsatisfactory) and fussiness (excessive), and completely ignore your presentation of the Four States Model (genius) and lecture you some more about being negative and misandrist (they won’t use that word, but you know) then you will run screaming from the room, and everyone will think it is the wild screaming of unadulterated joy and happiness when in fact it is the slightly mad screaming of someone who can’t take it anymore and is ready to end it all RIGHT NOW.
Alas! No amount of loot or bling or gold can make up for how, by the end of every wedding, there is a you-shaped puddle of globby blobbiness under the furthest table in the darkest corner of the quietest room, pulsating with a DANGEROUS radioactive glow, repeating over and over ‘So I’m not married. So what? Just get over it. Just get over it. Just get over it. JUST GET OV-‘
And it will be at least a week before you start resolving into a girl-shaped mass – just in time to begin the cycle again for the NEXT wedding…