Monday morning was rough; I woke up hungover. Since Dani and I have been committed to a daily 6 AM gym session, I couldn’t bail out on our fitness regimen. So, I donned a hoodie, a soft rock playlist, comfy pants, and sat on a recumbent bike, trying to pedal my hangover away at 60 RPM. Didn’t work. Without judging my values and life choices, let me explain why I had a case of the hangover Mondays. My very good friend Aaron got married to his lovely (now) wife, Ilana on Sunday. Besides all the joy and good wishes I extend to the newlyweds, I also was fortunate to see some friends from college I haven’t seen in years, and my best friend Asher. Naturally, libations were in order.
Hold up. Never for a minute do I want any of you to think I got pretty shwasty at a wedding because of my own fears and ruminations about weddings. I’ve seen so many of those terrible chick flicks where it’s the ‘always a bridesmaid, never a bride’ mindset. The women cry and say OH MY GOD, I’M GOING TO BE LONELY FOREVER, NOBODY LOVES ME, I’M JUST GOING TO DIE A SPINSTER WITH MY CATS. When I have women like Bridget Jones and Katherine Heigl from “27 Dresses” to emulate, there’s no wonder there is an abundance of tears and vodka at weddings these days. I’m the exact opposite. If anything, weddings make me optimistic. Aaron and Ilana are beautiful and wonderful together, but I’ve certainly attended weddings where I’ve anxiously sat and wondered about the outcome of the marriage. I’m not cynical but I’m realistic. I hear the statistics about relationships but I think its selfish to put your own feelings and doubts ahead of your enjoyment for a special wedding. That’s what pisses me off about people complaining about weddings. If you’re so focused on being a dick because you can’t get over your fear of commitment, then maybe you shouldn’t have been invited to a wedding in the first place.
I’m sick and tired of people who turn a wedding to all about themselves. If you want a day all to yourself, try celebrating your birthday. Listen, we’re all lonely and insecure. Even crazy optimistic whale-hating, bike-riding, tiny chicks. But check those feelings at the door and drink to be happy. I mean, have you even seen Wedding Crashers? It’s so easy to get laid at a wedding. If that's not the best reason to shave your (insert appropriate gender parts here), then I don't know what is.
So yes, I believe in love. I don’t necessarily believe in soul mates, but I believe that it is possible to find one person and spend the rest of your life with them, happily. The fact that you haven’t found that person is no cause for alarm. After the wedding, I was talking online to a friend of mine about dating. He was waiting for some chick he went on one date with to text him back. Apparently, they had plans to hang out that night, but she hadn’t sent him a message. So, naturally I gave him my standard advice “The only reason why she hasn’t texted back yet is that she’s dead. Google her name + “obituary” in a day or two, and then you’ll see she was too busy being a corpse to get back to you”.
Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, we all live in those blissful waters. I’ve convinced myself that so many guys I've gone on first dates ended up dying on their way back to the metro or government contracting job from a random stabbing, car fire, or Hanta virus, that I was able to get over their rejection. Now, I’m not saying my friend got rejected (She’ll text you back buddy, she just needs to wake up from that coma), but I’m also saying that you have to put yourself out there, again and again. I’ve been rejected more than a kidney with the wrong blood type, but that doesn’t mean I feel like I’m hopeless. When I mentioned my rate of rejection to my friend, he said that it was different because I go on so many more dates, thus meaning I have more options. The only thing I can think of to reply is a quote from the great Thomas Edison, “I haven't failed, I've found 10,000 ways that don't work”.
I may not have screwed 10,000 [light bulb] failures, but I’m willing to put in 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration to get there. So chin up everyone, your bright light bulb is on its way. Get drunk at weddings, but don't get sullen. The world’s smallest violin isn’t playing at the wedding for you, it’s playing for the happy couple who just want to fucking hear “Endless Love”. Raise your glass, L’Chaim, Mazel Tov! Just kidding—the Black Eyed Peas are terrible too.
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