April 29th, 2011
Save the Date: A Measure of Royalty
By the time this gets published, we will be in the throes of the Royal Wedding. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you’ve been living under a rock for the past five months. Please tune to any one of the female targeted Cable stations immediately. Today all programming will be an ad nauseum recount of Kate and William’s wedding littered with Charles and Diana references and anything and everything royal. If you woke up before dawn to catch the nuptials, good for you. I was peacefully asleep. King Google will do well enough to catch a glimpse of the most important piece of news this week – what Kate wore. Much more important than the deadly tornadoes that ripped through the U.S.
So what place does the royal wedding have in a dating column? Remember those Disney princess movies we all grew up on? This is Cinderella happening in real life. An ordinary girl marries her prince. Ahhh, how sweet. Don’t get me wrong, I am happy for Kate and her prince. Good for you girl, to land the future King of England.
This may be real life, but for the rest of us single girls, this is not real life. We are all looking for our prince, but most likely our prince won’t be an actual one. Our face won’t be on a silver coin anytime soon. Two billion people won’t be watching us say our vows. If there are ever vows.
What? You heard me. Weddings, even if not royal, are central in a thirty-something girl’s life. Every month another cutsey save the date card arrives in the mail, and suddenly I’m reworking my personal budget to anticipate the growing amount of gifts, bachelorette parties, and dresses to wear to the numerous showers and weddings. While I’m happy for my friends and family who are tying the knot, I can’t help wondering, where’s my party?
I’ve always teased that the only reason to get married is to finally get a stand mixer. That’s about my level of excitement when it comes to thinking about my own need to get married. Yes, there are females out there in their thirties that aren’t wedding crazy. I am one of them. Forget marriage right now; just find me a man who I can stand for longer than a few hours. Then we can think about dating exclusively. Baby steps. This is certainly a disappointment to my family, who finds my single status as an embarrassment. The last time my father asked about my love life I told him I dumped the guy because the sex was awful. It was sheer joy to see the look of horror on his face, and I haven’t heard a single word since. Success!
But back to the – where’s my party. Why can’t I send out save the date cards for a celebration of my general awesomeness? Who congratulates me on being a happy, stable, female who loves her life? Why do you only get a party and gifts if you get married? I’m convinced, by the high divorce rate and the fact that some of my friends are in loveless marriages that the party is the only reason they got married in the first place. Because if you are “the marrying age” and you have a boyfriend you have to get married, right? Wrong.
Sure, deep down I’d love to share my life with someone else, but being alone doesn’t make me less of a person. So tonight I think I’ll pop the ever present bottle of Veuve I keep on hand for special occasions and celebrate my singleness. You’re more than welcome to stop by. I’d prefer the stand mixer in chrome, please.