My cousin got married yesterday, and I was all set to make my new thing be, “Go to a wedding without a +1 and not care.” Background #1: I’ve always wanted to have a date for a wedding. Every part of the reception, from the eating, to the dancing, to the people-watching, seems like it would be more fun with a date. Background #2: I’ve never had a date to a wedding. The closest I’ve been was when my sister got married and I broke up with my boyfriend of 3 years the month before it.
So I thought it would be cool if, at my cousin’s wedding, I didn’t bother thinking about how much fun the other couples looked like they were having. I was going to focus my attention on my nephew and my family and ignore any urges to think about how nice it would be to have a +1.
You might think I lost my resolve when a stranger tried to set me up with her son by telling me he’s moving to DC for a few years but will come back and we should talk because I’m local and Catholic (which apparently are her only requirements for a daughter-in-law). You might assume I wanted a date so this woman wouldn’t stand next to us and tell us to talk to each other about the wedding (I think she meant the one we were currently at, but maybe she was already on to planning our future wedding). You may think I would wish for a +1 as an escape for the most awkward conversation in the history of talking.
But no. It was later, while I was in the bathroom and heard my sister laughing from across the reception hall, that I realized I couldn’t pretend not to want a wedding date. I do. I want someone to laugh with. And I don’t think that makes me any more pathetic, desperate, or unlikely to find that someone just because I admit it.
So I can’t say I went to a wedding dateless without caring. But I did paint my toenails yellow yesterday.