The world really does seem to be going to shit and fast. I think that’s why almost all of my unwed heterosexual friends are getting hitched this year. I suppose if global warming overtakes us or the Mayan calendar is right, they don’t want to be clutching their housecat with a ringless finger when the day of reckoning occurs.
By Dec. 31, 2011, I will have had five close friends take the marriage plunge. And so, in honor of your marriages, I’m offering up this insight. It seems that the moment after one takes a knee and the other says “Yes,” you pop a squat and begin shitting yourself. Because in that moment, once the elation dies down, you realize that you have just signed on for a year-long cannonball-run shopping spree that will bleed you and your loved one dry.
There is so much crap that must be bought if you want to do the marriage thing right. You must buy the right napkins, select the right place settings, get the proper runner, buy the wine glass trinket, get the little monogrammed M&Ms, select the save-the-date cards, grab the special wedding postage stamps, pick out envelopes, pick out a cake, pick out cake decorations, select flower arrangements, choose drink service, make catering choices, pick music for the service, pick music for the reception, hire a DJ, pick something to wear, pick something for your party to wear, find a venue, find a venue, find a venue…and more!
And what’s one of the most important decisions of all, the one that many soon-to-wed dread because it is one of the first things your wedding attendees will see? Because it is one of the first things they will judge? Because it denotes there is no turning back, that this financial avalanche is on a roll and has a momentum that not you nor any bankruptcy court has the power to stop? The wedding invitation.
Couples fret over their invitations. The design, the typography, the paper stock. I have a stack of invitations on my desk as I write this. And they’re all great. Each and every one of them. I’m going to hold on to them for a long time in my little shoebox of memories. But I’m not going to judge your relationship based on the quality of the print job. You could have mailed me a Post-It note that read, “Yo! We be doing the wedding thang. You in?” And I would have been like, “Hell yeah.” The fact they look nice, feel nice and smell pretty is cool, don’t get me wrong. And if sticking to tradition is what you want, then do it up. I mean, shit. I want a wedding on the beach where everyone wears white linen pants and a Boston terrier officiates. Can you get more cliche gay wedding than that?
I’m just saying relax. We love you no matter how lame the catering is or how smelly the block hotel rooms are. We don’t care that your extended family sucks and that the servers are pouring weak on the whiskey. I could give two shits that your music selection is crap or that your ceremony is too long. You don’t need to impress me. I’ve been here before you were a bride/groom and I’ll be here afterward. It’s not your taste in trifold invitations that drew me to you, it’s that you’re super cool, and I love you. So just chill the fuck out and get married.