Television and North America Ruin Weddings

In the last 3 years I have been involved in three weddings, including my own. Being directly involved in two of them, I have come to see the ugly weeds that can sprout quickly and viciously in the midst of a beautiful thing.

My best friend was engaged first, in May of 2011, to her common-law boyfriend of 5 years, and I was very happy for her since it was something she’d always wanted. She’d asked me to be her maid of honor, for which I was initially excited, then realized all the responsibility that came with the title. (I got married just over a month before her so I ended up being the matron of honor.)

Then ensued all the “wedding shopping” for which it was my “responsibility” to attend. All of it. She just got married July 27, 2013 (over a week ago) and in that 2.3 years I attended two Bridal Fantasy fairs, and multiple dress shops, and however many fittings, you name it. Bridal Fantasy for me was just a lavish, over-the-top poster of what a North American wedding should look like. Limos, limo-buses, high-end $1200 DJ’s with smoke machines, expensive macaroons, and plastic looking cakes (that when sampled certainly tasted that way). Booths with wedding table settings and centerpieces created out of what looked like half a tree and draped with everything glitter and diamonds. Walking out of that place I was only left with the thought of “how can anyone even afford a wedding when these are the expectations?”

When you google the average cost of a wedding in North America, $26,000 is the number that appears!! No wonder many people live common-law with the way cost of living has gone up coupled with the expectation that you’re going to need between $19,000 and $32,000 in order to have “the perfect day”. And that number does not include the honeymoon.

My second beef with weddings in our country is how we tell brides they are allowed to act. Not directly, but through media, celebrity weddings, and television shows that are all about overspending, air-headed, snotty bridezilla’s. Constantly you hear brides are told “Honey, this is YOUR day” and “Today is about you” which leaves pedesteled brides resorting to the generally tearful phrase “but this is supposed to be about me!”…which frankly is a poor albeit selfish way of dealing with the bride not getting her way.

Pardon me, but it does read in Psalm 118:24 “This is the day the Lord has made; We will rejoice and be glad in it.” It doesn’t say this is the day the Lord made FOR YOU. It also says in Psalm 24:1 “The earth is the Lord’s, and all it’s fullness. The world and those who dwell therein.”
We are so easily bombarded by the world’s ideas that somehow you are OWED the day of your wedding (and those leading up to it) and everyone must wait on you hand and foot. Some brides seem to think that their friends lives should stop and come second to the brides wedding. When I requested to my best friend if I could please do my own hair for her wedding to save $100 (after I’d already spent $1000 to be in her wedding), she told me the other bridesmaids had also dropped out of their expensive hair appointments. Then she said “everyone had two years to plan for this.”

Come on, lady. I love you to death, but why turn to absurd statements like that.

She did pretty well for a bride under much stress. A few points throughout the day before and the day of the wedding she did have a few snapping moments, which when addressed, she would say “I’m allowed my one bridezilla moment.”

Now, I’m not blaming her for any of this. Truthfully, I have sat and watched TLC for hours, all the wedding shows they have available. From Rich Bride, Poor Bride to Say Yes to the Dress, and even Bridezillas. The attitude and actions of most brides on these shows is atrocious, and that’s an understatement. How can you tell a bride to be nicer when she’s been shown time after time this type of behavior is allowed and even excused for?

Where is there posts on the internet and magazines that talk about being a UNDERSTANDING, GRATEFUL, and KIND bride, one who carries herself with grace and is humble before others and before the Lord? Well certainly being a beautiful bride from the INSIDE and out does not make good television.

I was humbled by my own family and friends at my wedding about seven weeks ago. My grandfather fell ill 9 days before the wedding, while I was out of town at work. I came back 4 days before the wedding, and my whole family was constantly at the hospital, leaving me to do almost all of the leg work myself. My husband tells me that the only thing I complained about when I called him sobbing at night those 3 days was NOT that no one was helping me or that there wasn’t time to get the ceremony programs done, but that I did not have the time to stay all day long with my grandpa, only a few hours here or there.

He died the morning before the wedding while I was at the spa getting a body polish and my gel nails.

My mom and her side of the family (three boys, two girls) were all making the food for my wedding, and in the midst of everything they lost their father, and still gave to me and my husband from the bottom of their hearts.

Our wedding was on Father’s Day and there was no room for selfishness or pride. How could there be when there was so much love, which is SO much more important than if the centerpieces look perfect.

During the signing of our marriage license, we played “Nothing Compares” by Third Day. “Nothing compares to the greatness of knowing you, Lord”. Not even a wedding day compares to the joy and the love we will experience when we get to be with Jesus.

And I hope more brides focus on this instead.

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Sunday Morning

Most of us have been here, with a headache, nausea, and an adamant amount of regret. It’s generally on either a Saturday or a Sunday morning, with the past nights events a haze, the clues to what happened vary to where you wake up, bruises, and the appalling debit machine receipts in your pockets.

That’s my friend, Angie, currently sitting at a 4/10 hangover. Her next actions will be crucial.

And rewind…
Yesterday was my 24th birthday, and my day was spent doing my last shift on my hospital practicum. My preceptor was so amazing and let me leave early. I boogied home and commenced to go out with friends. I stopped for some rum, and went to Angie’s.

10:10: I show up at her house. I pull out the rum, pour two doubles with splashes of coke. I down one, gagging the whole way, Angie fights her heaving as I tell her there is only 15 minutes till the cab gets there.

10:11: I pour another double, with a little bit more coke, and have at it. Angie is just finishing her first, starting the second, whining “do I have to do this?”. I tell her she does. She’ll save her money.

10:30: The cab calls. He’s here. We run outside but forgot to change out of boots. The cab can’t make it down her 1/2 block long driveway. He wants us to hike. We start running through the foot and a half deep snow. Angie is yelling her boots are suede. I don’t care.

10:58: We arrive at the country bar. There is no line. Amazing. We get in. Ladies are free till midnight. Even better.

I went on to only have only maybe four more drinks (don’t quote me on that).
The next thing I know, it is 1:33am and we are grabbing a cab home. We get the driver to take us to McDonald’s and then take us home. We ate our meals, got home, and crawled into bed
Angie fell asleep right off the bat. I was going to be sick.
I hopped out of bed and proceeded to crawl across the floor, but decided the floor was much comfy-er.
Next thing you know, I’m waking up at 6:30am with a balled up pair of pajama pants for a pillow, wrapped in a dog blanket staring at my wretched face in a mirror. I groan, and crawl back into bed with Angela. My body definitely loosed two separate shotgun farts that were loud enough to wake me. Angela didn’t stir at all. Probably better she remain oblivious, or our friendship would never be the same.

When 11:15am rolled around we dragged our asses out of bed. Off to Denny’s we go.

Now Sunday mornings at Denny’s, there are two types of people generally eating: the hungover people, and the church people. It’s like a meeting of the light and the dark. Usually you can tell by sweaters. All the church people wear cardigans, and are neat and matchy. The hungover people are either wearing what they wore the night before with a sweater over top, or its hoodies galore.
Eggs Bennie brought me from a 4 to a 6 out of 10. I went to the bathroom to have my first of three eye-watering bowel movements. The girl in the stall next to me must be crying, but I have no shame.

Somehow by the end of breakfast we are bouncing back. We decide to go shopping. While standing in line at the GAP, Angela doubles over in pain and gives me the shirts she’s buying and her VISA. She says she’s going to the bathroom, it’s an emergency. I can’t stop laughing in the lineup for the GAP. It’s her first of two in the next 30 minutes.

She has to go on a date tonight. Baha.