This week I melted my Alaska Airlines Visa credit card into a small puddle of liquefied plastic goo when I bought plane tickets to three weddings happening in Real America this summer.
I'm very much looking forward to seeing the friends and family who will be at these weddings, but not to the mental and physical carousel I hop onto every time I have a wedding on the horizon.
There are 7 horsies on that carousel:
1. Assess Body-Mass Index: Step on scale, look at number, spiral into mini-depression, conclude life would be perfect if number indicated were ten digits lower. Vow to get scale to say that number by X date. Hate self for caring/making said vow.
2. Assess Closet: Examine contents of closet. Conclude closet is a time capsule of 2004, and that there is "nothing" inside worth putting to any use other than donating to Good Will or Paige's sewing projects.
3. Assess Finances: Log into checking account. Acknowledge dearth of disposable income to invest in personal glamour. Revisit #2. Find at least one item to be pressed into service at one of the weddings or associated functions. Reject several obvious prior bridesmaid dresses as viable candidates for this role.
4. Assess Diet: Vow to quit sugar until X date. Imagine self eating kale chips and Granny Smith apples every time hunger strikes. Make it to 3:00 p.m. the following day before consuming a medium-sized gluten-free brownie with frosting on it in four bites.
5. Assess Exercise Regimen: Vow to exercise daily until X date. Succeed in doing a single 30 minute walk-run the following evening. Give up forever in the face of excruciating boredom and mild to moderate physical discomfort endured during the aforementioned 30 minutes. Vow to walk up six flights of stairs every morning from then on. Never do it. Not even once.
6. Assess Body Hair: Get out calendar and track backwards to schedule next waxing appointment where entire face and body must be stripped bare of thick, black hair. Make closest possible appointment to dates of weddings in order to maximize level of hairlessness at actual event.
7. Repeat steps 1-6, 3x until early August.
Right after buying the plane tickets, I begged Geoff not to buy any more cookies at the grocery store. I asked him (rhetorically) if he didn't agree that impending weddings were a great excuse to lose ten pounds and squeeze into a few fancy dresses. A tried and true feminist, he replied that to the contrary, he couldn't think of a more depressing expenditure of my physical and mental time and energy.
Well, fuck that. Free advice is worth what you pay for it, Geoff! If nothing else, I'll be taking the summer off from being a feminist in order to hypocritically indulge in every possible gender-shaming body and style issue known to female kind.
Sorry, but sometimes social progress and inner peace need to take a backseat to not looking like a Jimmy Dean sausage link in a cocktail dress.