I went wedding dress shopping the other day. Not in a crazy “Muriels Wedding” kind of way, though. My friend Kate who actually is getting married asked me pretty, pretty please would I come with her. “I know this isn’t really your kind of thing, but I’d really appreciate it and I’ll make it as painless as possible,” she promised. So I acquiesced, because I am nice, I had the afternoon off, and I was mildly curious about what the big damn deal about big white dresses is.

Weddings, or the appeal of them, has always been something that I just don’t understand. I’m sure marriage is lovely if you look at it as being with the one you love the rest of your life rather than as being chained to someone you can barely tolerate but its too expensive to leave them. If I found someone I wanted to marry who wanted to marry me, I would do it. What I hate is when people get married just for the sake of being married, or for the joy of throwing a wedding. Smug marrieds.

As soon as girls my age got to college they all seemed to start husband shopping. Obviously these are not girls that I hang out with, but a lot of them seemed to be around me at parties and class etc. and they were so vocal about it, wedding planning, getting engaged, that it just made me ill. If you’re in love, and youre happy, and you want to be with that person the rest of your life–super. Why the big hurry? It’s a lifetime, you can put off the “big day” until youre older and have more money. And when you’re planning the “big day” you can still retain your personality and talk about other things. Kate has been with her fiancé for five years, they are getting married for the right reason in my mind, so I can support it.

I supported it by going to David’s Bridal with her and watching her getting laced up into giant, heavy, gowns that drag on the floor and have makeup stains all over inside of them from the hundreds of women who’ve put them on before you, welled up and said “This is the one.” Then something happened around dress seven; I liked it. Not the experience, the dress. It was a princess dress, it made my stomach flip, and I wanted it for myself. Maybe it was just being in a store for that long made me feel like I needed to buy something, maybe I’m going through the change in life.

Two days later I’m still regretting the fact that I let the salesgirl take it without me trying it on. I couldn’t try it on, that would be crazy. That’s the kind of thing I make fun of girls for. If I had tried it on and looked like an asshole, this whole debacle would be over, but what if I didn’t look like an asshole?

Am I going to start coveting people’s children next? I called a little girl sweetie the other day because she said “please” and “thank-you” to me and I was completely overcome with the love of parents who teach their kids manners. What is going on?

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