I have loved you - I have! When you debuted when I was in high school, I was one of the many dorky unlovable teenage girls who signed up as members with their crush as their fiance and set some random wedding date after the year 2000. What a great idea, right? Like a wedding planner for girls who don't want wedding planners. Everything bridal at the bride-to-be's fingertips, complete with a personal organizer and free couple's webpage. Genius!
I signed up, I forget who I said was my fiance, I forget the date I claimed I would be married, but I had a TON of fun looking at dresses with outrageous prices, gazing all day at that off-the-shoulder, 3/4-length sleeved Reem Acra gown I had originally found in Martha Stewart's Weddings magazine. Logging in and seeing "Welcome, Jessica & Cuteboy" was bound to have me reeling in a daydream when Mr. Cuteboy and I would someday be living in a house with all the things I'd registered for, looking at albums of me and my bridesmaids in their gowns I had so carefully chosen.
I am no longer 16, and while I'm not getting married any time soon, it's time for me to visit your site again. This time, for real. I'll be a bridesmaid twice over, and while my mom isn't doing any sort of planning that might require your assistance, my dear friend Emma has sent me a number of pictures of potential bridesmaid dresses. In order to see them, I had to suck it up, and bite the bullet.
I was relieved I didn't have to humiliate myself by making up a phony account. I was glad I could choose "bridesmaid", even though I had to distinguish myself as one "playing the field" rather than any of the other corny relationship status titles I could have chosen. But why did I have to tell you when somebody else was getting married? They haven't set a date yet, so I had to make it up again.
And WHY oh WHY is it that when I sign on, I'm greeted by "Welcome, Jess &"?? Is it not enough that I already had to establish myself as the girl who is always the bridesmaid and never the bride? Are you trying to make me feel incomplete? I don't have any anxieties about this, normally. Or I should say, I didn't. Why do you do this to me?
I feel betrayed, Knot. And I know I'm probably going to have to make use of your invaluable services someday.
That is, if I ever get married. Because, you know, I'm a mulletted, Skoal-chewing shortstop playing the field in what is projected to be sky blue taffeta.