Wedding season

I remember a time in my life when most of the weekends between Memorial Day and Labor Day came with at least one and sometimes three weddings to attend. I know it sounds rude, but something about that marathon debt-inducing pace left less room for joy. Now that I'm (long) past that certain age, those carefully calligraphied envelopes bring a greater thrill when I find them in my mailbox.

One of the things I find most fun about weddings these days is the liberation that comes with knowing I will never have to plan another one. First of all, I intend to stay married to Terry. If I don't for some awful reason, then I will definitely marry for money the second time around, and I will pay someone handsomely to plan the next one.

My particular attitude may be why I got such a kick out of this view of wedding planning gone awry in The New Yorker. Some of the embedded links are hilarious. Check it out:

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