Bridesmaid confessional.

*DISCLAIMER: I love my friends. I will do anything for my friends. If someone does my friends wrong, I will show that rat bastard the *fists of fury*. I'm the ultimate keemosabee.

K...so now that the disclaimer is out of the way I can proceed with my confessional.

I will just say this and be done with it: I hate being a bridesmaid.

I love weddings. I love seeing friends who love each other be bound in neck chokening bonds of matrimony. I love the pretty decorations & the awesome food. But I can't stand being an actual part of the wedding. I hate being a bridesmaid.

I suppose one would say "Dani, you are just being jelous you single old cow. Suck it up and stop being selfish".

Or you could say "Dani, you sucky old cow, stop bitching about how fat you look in the dress and be a better friend..you should have though about your weight a year ago".

Equally as enticing, you could say "Dani, you are such a cow. You knew what the cost would be going in so why are you bitching about it now?".

And you would probably be right on all accords. When weddings occur and I am a part of it, I am reminded instantly that I am fat, poor and single in one fell swoop.

It's different when you are just a guest, because at least being poor and being fat isn't the be all end all because all you have to do is show up wearing a dress that hides the fat and eat the food for free with a token re-gift.

But when you are stuffed into a dress that only suits skinny people, that costs an arm and a leg, and you are single with no chance of scoring with the bestman in the janitor hall, then what's the point of reinforcing your misery?

And the funny thing is...I keep agreeing. Because I love my friends. And I guess in the end, that is all that matters.