First off, a big thanks you all of the blog readers, tweeple and assorted other internet types for your humor, support and overall service as a release valve during the past week or so. Without you all I no doubt would be sitting in Arapahoe County lockup, awaiting trial on multiple felony indictments.

That said, here are some lessons learned during the past week:

• Unless you chose your bridesmaids based on body type alone, there is no single style of dress that is going to flatter everyone. On the other hand, there are several styles that flatter absolutely no one.
• You can call it sage or celedon or anything else, but when cast in ruched taffeta it just looks like cabbage.
• Nobody wants to drop $250 on a cabbage suit.
• If the high on your wedding day is 22 degrees, don’t take the formal pictures of your wedding party outside.
• If you do take them outside, don’t expect anybody to smile.
• No, we don’t want to take “a fun one.”
• Really? You spent $15K but you couldn’t spring for anything beyond Miller Lite and Sutter Home White Zin?
• Seriously, white zin? Does this look like a double-wide?
• It is one of the world’s greatest injustices that men get to go out for a wild night of bachelor party shenanigans, while women are subjected to utter banality of a “bachelorette brunch.”
• And forgive me if I don’t get all giggly when the obligatory bottle of KY appears.
• If I’m required to wear it to the ceremony, it doesn’t count as a gift.
• Finally, if you throw a bouquet at me, don’t be surprised when I throw it back. Hard.

To be honest, I didn’t have a completely horrible time at the wedding (the bachelorette brunch was a different story altogether), and I still can’t believe that my baby sister is now somebody’s wife.

Also, does this get me out of going to her graduation in May?

As many of you know, this weekend my little sister is embarking on what can only be described as the Matrimonial Olympics, and yours truly has the (mis)fortune of playing a supporting role. With that in mind, and with a serious debt of ingratitude to what has to be the single most horrifying list of wedding etiquette in history, I drafted a form letter that I plan to include with every wedding RSVP I send from this point forward.

Dear Bride,

Congratulations! I really am happy for you two. Whether you are getting hitched for love, for security or just because the baby Jesus wants you to, your wedding is sure to be a day you’ll remember forever.

That said, I’d just like to offer a few guidelines so that you don’t come out of your wedding having fewer friends than you have ecru-and-celedon ceramic gravy boats.

 

• Contrary to popular belief, bridesmaids are not dolls, they are real human beings with lives, concerns and finances of their own. Please consider that 50 lbs of pink taffeta is probably not how these women would have chosen to spend their annual bonus and tread lightly. The point of having a wedding party is to share an important day with the people who matter to you most-not to incite resentment by insisting they refrain from hazardous activities like skiing, driving and walking for a month prior to the wedding, lest somebody has the nerve to get injured and ruin your big day.

• And speaking of, it’s your day, not your week.
  
• In regard to gifts: That’s precisely what they are, gifts. Marriage is an important milestone, but your particular life choices don’t mean that anybody owes you anything beyond a warm “Congratulations.” And please spare everyone the lecture on how much a head your reception is costing. You’re the one who had to have the arugula and glazed duck; we’d have been perfectly happy with mac & cheese.
  
• And don’t get all huffy if somebody decides to go off registry. Again, it’s a gift. And they’re wedding guests, not Santa.

• Finally, spare us the martyr act. The more you whine about the crippling stress involved in throwing yourself a big goddamn party (often with somebody else’s money), the more we want to smother you with an embroidered satin pillow. Seriously, some people have real problems.

 

All that said, I hope your wedding is the beginning of a wonderful marriage. Because if this doesn’t work out, next time you’re not getting shit.

Love,

Me

Between the delays, the fees, the lost bags and the troubling proximity to “other people” it’s tempting to give the whole industry a hearty “Up Yours,” but really, most of the time, what can you do? A couple of months back I needed to go to Portland for work. What was I going to do? Walk? 

But I think we have a choice more often than we realize.

Recently I was getting set to book my ticket home for the holidays / LittleSister’s Elaborate Wedding Extravaganza. Fortunately, Christmas and the EWE fall close enough together that I’ll be able to roll it all into one trip, and it was looking like I’d be able to score a pretty reasonable fare.

Not so fast.

When I travel, my so-called “personal item” is often a scruffy little 16-lb terrier named Mr. Henry, who travels in a soft-sided carrier under the seat in front of me and is pretty much always passed out before takeoff. For this privilege, United wants to charge me $175. Each. Way.

So, United, up yours. You’ve finally nickle and dimed me to the point where I’m just going to say, Fuck it. I’m driving, from Los Angeles to Denver. Happy goddam holidays.