Wedding Season: The Plus One Conundrum

The wave of weddings in my late twenties (not my weddings, other peoples') passed over us as quickly as it came. But like a tsunami, I've noticed another wave coming. Lately with each week's mail there's been another beautifully done invitation, another announcement of happiness, and... another "& Guest" to answer to.

WE BEGIN WITH CONFESSIONS
I should preface by saying this: I have never taken a date to a wedding. Never. While I have gone as people's dates, I have never taken someone myself. Not to my best friends' weddings, including the one where I was Maid of Honor. Not even to my own sister's wedding. At major events like these I have always preferred to fly solo, which allows me to do my social butterfly thing, catch up with old friends, and be free of the obligation to cast a backwards glance at a guy who may or may not become miserable when I can not be torn from the dance floor, which guilt on my part would only be compounded if he has done me the courtesy of wearing a suit, eating hotel chicken, and doing a stream of disgusting kamikaze shots at the bar with my always-hyper friends.

Now, until recently this "free agent" policy was a smart strategy. In many cases it was de facto, i.e. I wasn't invited with a date, and thus the paradox of choice was removed. Being "plus zero" often sucked in that, after moving across the country, attending weddings of old friends or family required much travel and someone to carry my stuff would have been nice. I'll admit it, it sometimes irked me to not be invited with a date, the implication being that I could socialize well with people I had not glued to myself. The nerve! But ultimately it wasn't a huge deal- I'd show up at the wedding and sit at the table with a bunch of other single friends, and be the loud, fun table, and make a great weekend of it.

THE TURNING POINT
I'd say the turning point on my no-date policy came at a cousin's wedding where I was older than everyone seated with me... by a decade. At one point a relative who thought he was being very cute began to lay into me about having seen me "hit on" a guy at my table. I snapped back that I was just making conversation with the guy who by the way was the only one at the table who had graduated high school. Give me a freaking break. But there was a crack in my always-perfect plan, and it had begun to reveal itself.

My policy took another hit when my sister got married a year and half ago. While I could have brought a date, the thought of taking one to my younger sister's wedding would have put too much heat on the poor guy (Persians being how they are, they might have panicked on my behalf and maybe tried to throw me in for a two-for-one ceremony.)

Anyways, preceding the wedding, my younger brother and I had a conversation that went like this:

Me: "Are you bringing a date?"
Him: "No. Are you?"
Me: "No. Ok good."

So imagine my surprise when the evening of the wedding I'm sitting with friends, enjoying the festivities, and my brother strolls in late with, not just a date, but a gorgeous model-amazon of a girl. Not only had he brought a date, but he had brought the type of date that makes you NOTICE that he had a date. And I didn't. The closest I came was my parents' dog Toby, who was wandering the lawn dressed in his finest tuxedo tee shirt.

At this point, I began to be more thoughtful about the purpose of the "and Guest" portion of wedding invitations.

Well now that The Second Wave of Weddingism is happening, it's time to readjust my strategy. And to add to that, I've been invited to upcoming weddings in the most gorgeous of places. The prettiest inn in San Diego! Or wine country! I think the time has come to take a partner in crime to enjoy these magnificent events my friends put on. But I don't want to just do this on the fly. Picking a date out of thin air is a habit I hope I left behind in my sorority date party days.

So, for these purposes, I am devising a Potential Wedding Date Questionnaire. It's a work in progress, but here's where I am with it so far:

POTENTIAL WEDDING DATE QUESTIONNAIRE

1) Do you own a suit?

2) Does it still fit you?

3) Can you hold your liquor?

4) Can you hold mine?

5) If presented with a situation where 100 people around you rise and do the Electric Slide, what would you do?

6) Do you have weird eating restrictions that might hamper my ability to respond to an RSVP card with dignity?

7) Do you know/have you slept with the bride? (insert name)

8) Do you promise not to push me onto the dancefloor when the bouquet toss happens? Do you agree with me that that part of the night is not funny?

9) Can you make conversation with strangers just enough to be comfortable, but not so much that you pick up someone else while on a date with me?

10) If I promise you freedom to use the bathroom or wander the premises as needed, do YOU promise never to choose to leave me at a juncture in the night that happens to be a slow dance when all other couples have gotten up from our table?

Since I'm still tweaking it, I might end it with a few open-ended questions if I'm feeling whimsical... What makes you feel like you are the right applicant for this position?

Singles' Guilt: Admitting is the First Step

Some people discover hidden planets. They give it a name, and they live on in whatever scientists' version of fame and fortune is.

I have discovered a phenomenon myself. And I named it. It's called "Singles' Guilt".

Maybe I should have been a sociologist- I like examining social phenomena and giving it a name, and then making people around me use it whenever they talk to me about an applicable situation (see also: Friend Poaching).

DEFINING IT.

This weekend I was having fun hanging out with a friend and promised her I would finally set my latest theory/find to paper - so here it is: Singles' Guilt. The punctuation is intentional; it refers to the situation in which a single/singles make themselves feel guilty for being single.

The consequences of Singles' Guilt can be mild to severe, depending on the stage of affliction. It can begin with a poorly thought-out visit to an ex, or it can end with a tearful, sloppy rendition of Love is a Battlefield. By educating yourself, you can best protect yourself and those around you.

WHY ROMANTIC MATH IS ANNOYING.

Singles' Guilt is endorsed and perpetuated by society. I think of this every time I get pushed onto the floor at a wedding to catch a bouquet -- which by the way, is pretty much a feminine gladiator ring (those girls throw 'bows!). And let's be honest- Singles' Guilt is visibly nurtured in society by the modern day tarring-and-feathering that is bridesmaid dresses. It's like a scarlet letter A, but scarlet at least goes with my skin tone.

Social mathematics is also at fault- by which I mean the simple equation: Single + Single = Couple! Many people believe this math (for example, a certain someone who mentioned a guy to me with the sole descriptors "over 30 and looking for a wife). But since the singles are too busy reading self-help books and being set up on awkward dates to take the time to disprove mathematic hypotheses, people around the world continue to believe said equation and throw singles together in the hopes they will spontaneously mate. It's like the "only two people left on the planet" theory in action. If two people are STILL single after so long, they must be drawn to one another, no?

I, for one, know that even if I was left on the planet with only one man and if that man was disgusting to me in some way (ex. Tea Party candidate, wearer of strappy man-sandals, racist, or a fan of Andie MacDowell- not in that order), that nothing could shake my vow to stay single in that situation. I could disprove the couple equation of social math, but we have more important work to do here, folks.

SIGNS AND SYMPTOMS OF SINGLES' GUILT.

Lately I've noticed lots of girlfriends (in particular) going on dates because they feel like they're supposed to. Giving a guy a second shot because, again, they feel like they're supposed to. What is this "supposed to" business? Well, they're doing it because they feel Singles' Guilt (when you use it, remember to capitalize, 'kay?)

I'm not saying women shouldn't be open-minded- we ALL should-- Mr. Awesome may show up on date two or three, when the guy you've been dating drops his guard a little and stops talking about himself and making forced jokes. I definitely believe in staying open minded... but you owe it to yourself to have that *curiosity* about the person. If you take a deep breath of relief after you close your door and lock yourself into your house for the night, then methinks this isn't the match for you. If you force yourself to march forward, that's not dating, that's a modern-day form of arranged marriage, but instead of parents (or in some cases, including them), you're being nudged by your own "guilty" conscience.

AND THEN THERE WAS ONE.

Singles' Guilt is apparent to me in how so many people around me (and sometimes even myself) act like they did something *wrong* by not settling down yet. It's as if we are playing a game of musical chairs and we are really, really bad at it. Everyone else got a chair! You're still standing! LOSER! Maybe you're standing because you were still enjoying the music. If there was a chair, I would have taken it! we cry.

So then the single finds themselves self-flagellating (as soon as they look up what that means) -- they didn't "pick" someone in time, therefore they lose the lovely option of choice. They start forcing themselves to hurry up, like it's a romantic freakin clearance sale. That is just sad, people.

SINGLE AND PICKY AREN'T ALWAYS THE SAME THING.

Let's be clear. In some cases they are. But a lot of times they aren't. Sometimes you're just single because it's not your time to be dating someone. Sometimes there is something else you should be doing. Sometimes there is someone coming your way and you won't meet them at 22 like your college roommate did.

SYMPTOM: THE SEARCH FOR AN ALIBI.

On more than one Friday night I've talked to friends who almost whisper their whereabouts into the phone.

Me: "Where are you?"

Them: "...home?...I think I um... I might be getting sick?... or... I might have to work?"

What they have is a case of the Singles' Guilt. They FEEL like they should be out that night because they are not paired off. They are tired, they had a long week, they have family drama, maybe they are getting over a breakup. But in their Singles' Guilt-ridden minds, they (ahem, WE) are slacking...slacking on their part-time job of finding someone to propagate the species with by staying home with their ice cream and comfy blanket on the couch. You know Singles' Guilt because you really do start to feel like it's a part-time job to de-single yourself. You feel like you're playing hooky by staying in, cooking dinner, and having the nerve to enjoy your own company.

THE SHOWMANSHIP OF SINGLES.

Singles' Guilt also manifests itself in what the lovely Carrie Bradshaw in one episode described as "singing for your supper" when around married friends. In that episode, Carrie talks about how couples almost expect singles to regale them with tales of dating. I confess I am one such storyteller (trust me, my stories are GOOD) but Singles' Guilt takes an angle on this. Sometimes you, oh victim of Singles' Guilt, find yourself rattling off your list of dates and stories just so that people will know you are TRYING, therefore "not guilty."

Believe it or not, I've found that my friends are just as interested to hear about my latest tour of the world, my stack of books, my hobbies, and my other adventures that don't center on dating. Try it, you might be surprised.

BYE BYE, GUILT!

Well, as Miss Diana says (and later, Phil Collins, thereby violating my fatwa on his doing covers of other people's songs), You Can't Hurry Love.

So if you're gonna feel guilty about something, do me a favor and let it be about the fact that, deep down, you actually like his version of "True Colors".

Because that, my friend, is the only thing you should *really* lose sleep over.

Kinda Like a Blind Conga Line

Somehow it has entirely escaped me, the most obvious rule of single living. That is: she who takes dating advice from her single girlfriends is exemplifying "blind leading the blind". Lately I'm realizing that I need to rustle up the advice I take from my MARRIED girlfriends. Or at least those who have boyfriends or, in many cases, the 3+ date sequence. My terminal daters, while lovely human beings, may *not* be optimal for doling out advice. I mean, you ask Paula Deen for her recipes, not Kate Bosworth, right?

Married friends feel they become irrelevant after they nuptualize-themselves away from Saturday nights spent getting all dressed up for nothing. They listen to our dating stories and feel like they don't have a full grasp of what we're going through (we=single people, because yes, I speak for them ALL). But you do remember. We just forget to ask you!

We usually just ask each other. Part of it is that sometimes it feels like if you talk with a single friend, you both learn from it. It's one of those rare conversations where it's about you but the other person feels like they get something out of it, more than just waiting for their turn to talk. Everyone can learn!

But problems exist with the current state of affairs. One such problem that needs to be highlighted (and I may even be guilty of?) is the Membership Obstacle. Which is: you kinda need a quorum in order for being single to still be cool. If everyone is coupled off except you, then you become the creepy aunt-uncle. You become the third (or thirteenth) wheel. So while you want your friends to be happy, you don't want them to be TOO happy, ie. married/dating/disappeared. Or you want *just enough* of them to be happily paired off that you still have a pool of people to choose from when making your plans for this weekend. So while we all do our best to avoid being selfish, the undercurrent of mixed motives is there.

Secondly, when the dating banter begins, we quickly forget that our single friend has his/her own set of criteria. It's probably part of why he or she is still single- they have the laundry list and hasn't found the guy who fits it all. And when she gives you advice, she is probably superimposing HER lengthy list on YOUR lengthy list. So now instead of me looking for just a guy who is "Teva-averse", I need to look for a guy who is "Teva-averse" (for me) AS WELL AS "no prominent forehead veins". Veins might be fine for me but my friend will have a bias upon finding out my beloved sports them. Just like if she brings her Mr. Perfect in front of me and he's rocking socks with Tevas, I'm going to give her advice based on the fact that I'm a mandal (man-sandal)-hater, even though she didn't ask. We operate from the mindset we're in.

Likewise, we might approve of funky behaviors just because we do them too and by ratifying another person doing it, we are therefore more normal than ever. I'd insert an example here, but it would be too self-incriminating.

Those are just a few of the problem points with our current single-conferencing behavior. I'm sure there are many more I'm not even aware of because I'm so freakin entrenched in them.

When you take a step back, you suddenly realize that singles advising each other is a truly weird phenomenon. In no other world would a rookie ask another rookie. It's the same reason athletes are coached by guys with championship rings and not some beer-bellied guy in his armchair with Cheetos breath. Everyone has an opinion, sure, but you gotta be smart about whose you take.

I think this really brings it back to my new Sex and the City Theorem. If the girls didn't brunch and dissect things every single weekend, if they didn't call each other after every hookup, date, or night out, would things have been different? Would Miranda give a guy the time of day if Carrie wasn't there to roll her eyes to? Would they possibly have dated more if they spent a LITTLE less time having a lunch of estrogen with a side salad?

Guys always say that women are hard to approach in groups at the bar. And now I'm wondering if this is part of it. Maybe by talking amongst ourselves we end up focusing on the wrong things. And more to the point, maybe we make ourselves "exponentially single" by hanging out in flocks.

I'm still working out my thoughts on this (and awaiting Jon's), but I have to admit: Lately, when I need some guy advice or just a dating pep talk, I find myself dialing the houses with kids running around in the background a little more often. And if the mom isn't home, the kid probably knows more than me anyhow, so let's chat.

Always the...

Well, I've been a bridesmaid before, but never a Maid of Honor. This is the latest honor bestowed upon me, by a Miss Jessica. The good news is I get to stand in her wedding. The bad news is I will be memorialized in her wedding photo album with kimono arms if I don't get moving!

Tonight we went to look at bridesmaid dresses. Now, I fully understand the attention is on the bride, as it should be. But just sifting through the dress collection -- engorged rhinestones, sashes, taffeta, oh my! -- was enough to make a girl jump out of a street-level window. Because, you know, being the same age as the bride and unmarried isn't bad enough? Because walking down the aisle with someone else's husband isn't enough? Because sweating whether you'll be a plus one or your usual "plus a few shots of tequila and mild single depression" isn't enough? Apparently not, because some of these dresses were horrific. Apparently there's a killer market for chartreuse and turquoise, but you have to wrestle for the ONE grey or black dress.

Don't worry, I distracted myself by looking at the fake bouquet of roses they had for brides to ostensibly walk through the mirrored dressing room with. Or the collection of tiaras. Which were in a plexiglass case, you know, just in case someone really "street" tried to bust into Angelo's of Claremont and make off with their bedazzled headgear.

I spent much of the time being VERY grateful that the bride in question has great taste and wasn't trying to make herself look even better by making a spectacle of us. I said a silent thank-you to the women who had put her through that, thus assuring she would never do the same to others (an emerald green velvet cap-sleeved gown with sausage-curled hair sealed her fate as a gentle bride, one who would care for her bridesmaids and their egos!!!)

I was so swept up in the moment, in trying to understand what brown sauce could have possibly found its way down the front of a particular pink number, when I realized that I was about to put on the misshapen (and DEFINITELY not my size) boustier that the woman had suggested I wear under the dress. A boustier that hundreds of women before me had worn, trying on this same parade of Single Friend Who Will Taste Weddingness For Just A Night dresses. I was so absentminded that I ALMOST put it on.

But then I came to my senses. Fortunately, so did Jessica. She decided on the second dress I wore (unfortunately the brown-juice-ed number had already been tried on, and the mystery continues...). As is required on any female bonding event, we then adjourned to dinner. And don't think I didn't stop by McDonald's to get a fudge sundae (it's on the 99c VALUE menu!!) on the way home. The diet starts tomorrow?