Monday, December 10, 2007

Obsessed


I love the NYTs wedding section. It is pretty much why I get out of bed on Sunday. That, and to pour myself a big glass of watered down Gatorade and take some Aleve.

This Sunday I recognized one of the brides from college. We took a public speaking class together senior year. I was pretty excited to recognize someone in the wedding section--I'm pretty sure this is a first for me--If I were having Sunday brunch with someone, that would mean I won the NYTs wedding section portion of the brunch. (Sunday brunch is more fun when it's competitive, especially when your fellow diners don't know the rules and you just announce, "I won!" somewhat arbitrarily. Like after you finish a drink.)

I totally remembered this girl though, and I especially remembered one of her Five Word Speeches. I hated Five Word Speeches. I thought they were the worst idea ever. Except when she gave one of hers. She got to the podium and she gave a perfectly flat, ambiguously bitter speech: "Why. Are you dating. Him."

A couple people laughed nervously, hoping it was supposed to be funny. I immediately looked to her friends, who were biting their lips and looking at the ground.

Whoa, who is this Him? And who are the people tacky enough to actually ASK that question?! It's one thing to think something like that, it's another thing entirely to say it. I have GOT to meet him. Anyone who can inspire this level of awkwardness is practically MAGICAL.

Anyway, I saw him. And she married him.

The best thing you can say about a couple like that is, maybe he's a really sweet guy. Or, at least he'll never cheat on her. Or, perhaps it was an arranged marriage?

This whole situation was just too much for me. Why do I even care? This has nothing to do with me. I hardly know the girl. I'm not marrying this guy. Sure he's a genius with a sweet job...but still.

First of all, I am not strong enough to take that kind of second-guessing from other people. My sisters just had to raise an eyebrow and say, "pink bridesmaid dresses?" and I said, "never mind, forget it, I hate pink, and I hate you both!" and I ran to my bedroom and slammed the door and cried. (not really. except I did pick a different color.)

Second, I for one rely on the order and safety that staying within one's league affords. Guy's don't need a hero like this to think: he got the hot girl, I must find his secret! I'll try to get some girl that's way outside of my reach! Please. Let's all just work with what we've got, everything is so much simpler, there are no hurt feelings and no one will ever have to wonder: Why. did she marry. him?

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