I knew it would come

I was always told that the day would come when I would be attending my friends weddings. This I liked to scoff at. I couldn't imagine my friends getting married. My friends were the high flying, free spirited girls in college who hung out the window of my old subaru wagon yelling into a megaphone on the way to the bar. They weren't afraid to pop a squat in a bush between parties, expertly manevering their BCBG heels away from the stream, only to discover they were peeing on something much much worse, like an electrical box. They dominated at flip cup, every eligible boy on campus vied for their attention they could host a pre-funk, cook an epicurean meal, chair a committee, and shotgun a beer, all in stilettos. If Sex in the City could be translated to a Pac 10 School in a small hick town in eastern Washington, we were definitely it. Of course there are always those few friends and acquaintences who got married fresh out of college or even (wtf?) High School. But not me, nor anybody I really knew. We were mature, reasonable, ambitious.

But seriously, I am one of the only people I know now who is not engaged or married, and I am anticipating feeling like the Bridget Jones of the group. Pretty soon I will be calling myself a "singleton" and referring to them as "the marrieds." I am now beginning to encounter those meaningful looks, the blatant eye rubbing with the left hand ring finger. The polite question, "Do you think you'll be settling down anytime soon?"

"No, thank you." I'd like to politely reply. As much as I don't like to give false hope. I highly suggest any girl in my position do just that in this situation. Smile and say, "well maybe sometime....(gulp drink)....we've definitely discussed it....(take another swig)....It's definitely not out of the question, I mean we haven't ruled it out (desperately slurp the last dregs from your glass)...want to order another appetizer?"

The revelation that I am not exactly chomping at the bit for a white cupcake-esq dress, an overpriced cake and the headache and mental breakdowns that come with a wedding is not new. However it was cemented last 4th of July. I was up at the Bride-to-Be's house for some very illegal fireworks and some very good food. The wedding box was out, actually more like the wedding crate. The fabric swatches, the magazine clippings, the bridesmaid dressing, the ooh-ing and aah-ing in all its glory. I wandered into the room and picked up a fabric swatch, "What's this for?

"And this is Gen" she informed the ladies in the room, "She's the "uninvolved" bridesmaid. She's waiting for the bachelorette party." She smiled. Of course she was being very good natured and stating the truth, but it was the truth the hit me. I was being kept out of the wedding planning because I was simply put just "waiting for the bachelorette party."

above is a small sampling of some dresses very similar to what I've had to previously endure, can you blame me?

So now I have taken it upon myself to host the shower. And I want it to be a damn good one. Just to prove that I am indeed capable of hosting and participating in such wedding-y events. I plan to not stick to kischy tradition, but throw a good party. Keep in mind I said "good" party, not "great" party.