While gasping my way along the treadmill the other night, I was sucked into the fondant-coated nightmare that is "Bridezillas."
These women are horrible. They should be flogged with their own bouquets. They have screaming, foot-stomping, pouting, whining, plate-throwing, veil-ripping temper tantrums if every little thing doesn't go their way. They're mean and rude to everyone involved in their wedding, from their family members to the wedding coordinators (and probably the flower girls, too).
One woman had to "oversee" her sister's eyebrow waxing job and hurled insult after insult at her while she was stuck in the chair.
"You have got the UGLIEST eyebrows I've ever seen."
"Ain't no way you're takin' that unibrow down the aisle at MY wedding."
"It's EMBARRASSING that he had to use TRIMMERS on your eyebrows."
The show's "irony cam" was quick to point out the forest of stubble growing on the bitchy bride's chin.
This same (very fat) bride made all of her bridesmaids try on their dresses in front of her while she pointed out their chubby areas and demanded that they wear Spanx and corsetts because she didn't want fat, jiggling girls walking down the aisle at HER wedding. Did I mention this woman was fat? Not just chubby or plus-sized. F-A-T. Fat.
"It's MY wedding," she kept saying. "MY wedding. MY way. You don't like it, you leave." I don't know why no one took her up on it.
By the time her wedding day rolled around, she wasn't excited about it. Probably because she knew she'd been such a bitch to everyone and knew that no one was really very happy for her; they were just happy to have it over with. Even her fiance said that if he'd been a bridesmaid in the wedding, he woulda quit.
Amen, brother. You're in for a helluva ride.
Another woman, when her fiance pulled out her (PLATINUM!!!) wedding band to show her over (a super-expensive) dinner, she grabbed it out of the box, told him it was the ugliest piece of shit she'd ever seen pulled out of a Cracker Jack box, flung it into her glass of wine and walked out. It didn't have diamonds.
Here's where my rambling (finally) comes to a point:
After she'd left, the camera man asked the groom-to-be why he wanted to marry this hag (I might have improvised that last noun).
"It's better than being single," he said, shrugging his shoulders and fishing the ugly piece of platinum shit out of the wine glass and getting ready to leave.
Really?
I told my very patient brother about this (while I'm running on a treadmill and watching "Bridezillas," he's trying to stay awake for a few more hours to study for med school finals), and I asked him: "How can people feel that way? How can it be better to spend the rest of your life with someone who's going to make you feel like shit, versus being by yourself and feeling just fine about yourself?"
"I dunno," he said. He was trying to make dinner.
"I knew a woman once," he said, "who got married just because she was afraid of dying alone. Being with someone was more important to her than anything else." (She later divorced, he told me)
"I dunno," I said. "I like my own company. I don't think I have impossibly high standards, but I'm not going to just settle for anybody, either. I'm not miserable being by myself."
I guess that's the key. If you're miserable with your own company, you want someone else around.
But at what cost? Why are we so desperate for company that crappy company is considered top of the line? Why not wait for someone who, for the most part, makes you feel good about yourself? About your decision to spend the rest of your life with them? Who doesn't use all their breath telling you how fat, stupid, lazy, ugly and uninspiring you are? Shouldn't our happiness be valued at a higher price than the mere guarantee of someone else on the other side of the bed?
"So ... you're not dating anyone right now?" my brother continued the conversation.
"No," I said.
"Not likely to just run off and marry someone any time soon?" he asked.
"Nah."
Apparently, I'm not miserable enough to do that.
