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Beware of Wedding Season

by sky

It doesn’t look like a bill. In fact, that little square nouveau envelope appears as though it could be a letter. But you know better. It’s April, and the address is written in that wispy calligraphy that can only mean one thing: wedding season is about to hit – hard.

You may be one of the last remaining single gals of your clan. Chances are, you’ll also feel queezy as you open each of the half-dozen wedding invitations that will appear in your post office box prior to June 1st.

Whether you love or hate weddings, whether you’re single, or about to get hitched yourself – there comes a time when you need to weigh your obligations to attend these proclamations of life-long unions.

If you’re in a quandary – how you answer the following questions could make your answer as clear as the cubic zirconia that dick at the bowling alley wanted to give to you back in 1988.

Are you in the wedding, and if so, how ugly are the dresses?

When was the last time you saw the bride-to-be? If you were both 14, forget it.

Will the reception be held in a grange hall? If you answer yes – expect to see the groom doing tap hits off the PBR keg.

Try this equation: price of transportation to wedding + price of new slutty dress + price of not-so-obviously-cheap-gift. If this adds up to more than the cost of a weekend kayaking in the San Juans, forget it.

Guest list. Who will be there? People you know and have always wanted to sleep with… OR idiots your friend now calls friends that you have nothing in common with.

Now ladies, look at your answers and it should be obvious how many bouquets you’ll see in mid-flight this summer.

Just for laughs – here are a few wedding memories that have been difficult for myself and fellow chicks to forget.

The wedding where eight bridesmaids wore floor-length fuchsia dresses with rhinestone belts. It was A Chorus Line performance in a cathedral.

The grange hall reception where the appetizers were Safeway cookies and watermelon. No, we hadn’t seen these people since high school.

Getting laid by your ex-college boyfriend in the back yard of the reception hall. Then, proceeding to return the black cocktail dress to Nordstroms the next week.

The bride and groom dancing to “Jump, Jump up, Jump Around”

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