Monday, July 28, 2008

I Am So Not Allowed To Do Weddings

Had yet another wedding this weekend, and I am so not allowed to do weddings anymore.

In my drunken stupor, I had the audacity to compare myself to Pagliaccio, which is just fucking stupid because I'm not a clown who loves his cheating wife, and in fact have never been in love, cheated on, or married, so I can totally relate to his heartache. I just felt his operatic fictional unhappiness was relevant to my nonfictional unhappiness.

Weddings are lame, because there are hook-ups abound, and I inevitably will wake up alone in my car in the hotel parking lot with tears on my face and a sweltering can of PBR in the cup holder.


And The Dude Who Blows My Mind With His Face was there, laughing, hanging out, being all honest, "Rossi, you are hilarious, let's dance, and later I will sleep with your friend. Har har." And then I say something like, "Shut up Dude, you are so unfair and delight in my misery," except with much less finesse and more swear words and giggles, and he smiles, winks, spins me and says, "I know." I hate/love ambivalence.

The Circus makes my life difficult. It's hard to stay sane around them, because by nature the Circus is aggressive, hilarious, completely bipolar and ultimately the greatest show on earth. Around us, the most rational of humans require high doses of Lithium.

For example, before the wedding, the groom sat down his parents and warned them about the kind of riff-raff his future wife ran wild with in college. He was honestly afraid his mom would have a heart attack.

It's not that we party like rock stars, get all coked out and have group orgies, because we're not like that, not even remotely.

I think it's just that we're all so fucking in love with each other that our pheromones magnetize and go crashing into each other in mushroom blasts. The tension immediately rises, and strangers can see it hovering in front of them, and they're either automatically infected and drawn to us or they run away scared, incapable of comprehending all the laughing and living going on around them.

It's like constantly rubbing your feet on the carpet and giving everyone little joy zaps, and some of them taste it and know it's delicious and vital, while others get pissed at you for being so electric.

And the Boyfriend Squad is doing well, being the mates of the Circus. They're all gay for each other too, and should prolly take camping trips together where they make out and give each other purple nurples and talk about belt buckles, Jager, Nascar, and their crazy Circus girlfriends. But even though they went off and did their secret Boyfriend Squad shots without me, they always grabbed me to head outside for a smoke, thank god, before going back to their girlfriends. As much as I love being drugged by the estrogen of the Circus, I can't handle it for too long.

Then I watched my single friends pair off with other singles and the taken friends couple up, and as always, I was left alone. I don't pair off, ever. So I cry. This was a much more difficult cry than at the last wedding, because last time I was crying for others, but this time...this time I was crying for me. It was fueled completely by jealousy and amplified by the manic first eighty percent of the night. But because of the damn wonder of the Circus, it crashed like internal World War Three.

Being emotional in public is becoming a habit of mine, so it's time to suppress it. I have to shove it deeper inside until it never shows, because I've already spent years establishing myself as someone who laughs at the sentimental and cries at nothing.

That's not very healthy, is it? I embarrass myself.

So I will take out my aggression this week on SHARK WEEK.



Anonymous said...

First of all, OH MY GOD, can you ever write!!! That was just plain satisfying. Secondly, the vision of you waking up with warm beer and tear stains makes me want to cry. If it's any consolation, there's a really good chance that at least a third of the couples went home, fought about nothing and everything, and woke up in pretty much the same position as you. I betcha.

Rassles said...

You're probably correct, I'm just feeling emo. You understand. Weddings are just a constant verification of being single and alone, and after years of it, you start getting discouraged.

Anonymous said...

... oooor you could have had a massive amount of tequila and acted semi-retarded (aka true whorishness)and still be suffering from a two day hangover.

either way, sometimes weddings are no good for us "sad singles" to attend. it reminds me of being that girl at a jr. high dance that no one ever asks to slow dance with. sucks.
(although to be fair- other times weddings are a reminder of how lame couples can be and thus why it is awesome not to be tied down by a douchebag).

Rassles said...

Oh, Gyna. You should drink tequila more often.

Mister Crowley said...

"Then I watched my single friends pair off with other singles and the taken friends couple up, and as always, I was left alone. I don't pair off, ever. So I cry."

Ah, emo Rassles. Unsolicited advice, perhaps, from a (now) 5 year veteran of this nonsense. Sometimes it's more fun quitting the rat race and becoming the sports commentator :) You're still a rat, yes, but it helps.

Bluestreak said...

Oh. My. Fucking. God. Girl, I love your stuff.

I love what you just wrote.

I think EVERYONE should cry at weddings because most of the time they are a huge mistake and everyone is dancing and laughing it up while deep down, at least the married ones, know what´s in store (ok, I´m a little pessimistic right now re marriage).

I envy you a little for having never been in love, never been cheated on, and never been married. But I remember loneliness too and it´s no fucking pic-nic. But right now I miss loneliness more than ANYTHING.

I love, love, love the paragraph about you and your friends all being fucking in love with each other. It hits home.

Rassles said...

Crow, I've been the Ringmaster of the Circus for years now: narration is my specialty. And as far as rat races go, I may not be good at getting dudes, but I will fucking kill you for cheese.

Blue, weddings are not supposed to be huge mistakes...they are a celebration of love. But mostly free beer. You sound scorned, poor thing. Thanks for being envious of my misery, too. That makes it, you know, cool to be emo.

Gypsy said...

That was gloriously written.

What I envy is your circus. I have the romantic relationship, but I don't have that belonging, that core group who get each other. And I miss it, utterly.

Rassles said...

Gypsy, you miss it? Bring it back. Make them.

As alone as I feel sometimes, I wouldn't trade the several days out of the year with the Circus for anything or anyone.

And we're not together all the time. Geography separates us more than anything. Chicago, Alaska, Boston, Germany, fucking Iowa. But life wise? Life is the Circus. We go out of our way to make sure of it.

Just wait until I figure out how to describe the Whores. Catching a bullet is easier.

formerly fun said...

I loved this post, it was so honest and funny. I'm not going to wax poetic like I'm some kind of expert but I have so been where you are. I was the last of my friends to get permanently coupled. It wasn't always pretty or easy but I am so glad I waited until after 30 to get married.

I made all my rookie mistakes with boyfriends so by the time I got to my husband, I got most of the dumb stuff out of the way.

I also used that time to experiment with my career, free of the pressure that children put on you in terms of needing stability and security. I got to date all the wrong men and when I'm old in a wheelchair peeing myself, I'll have some good and naughty memories to remind me that I was young once.

And the losers wore me out so that by the time my husband stood before me, I recognzed the value of a 'good guy.'

Don't worry and by all means, don't even think about settling. I got crushes on all the wrong guys.I worried that I'd never find someone who 'got me'. I lamented boyfriends that moved on(thank god we don't always get what we ask for). I also ended up with the best husband I know.

My advice(that you didn't ask for), be patient even though it's hard, be yourself, fly your freak flag-crazy dinosaurs and all there's going to be someone who sees you and says, that's what I've been looking for, and practice flirting a little so when he sits next to you sometime, somewhere, you can rope him with your beauty and wit.

all alone

Rassles said...

FF: thanks.

You guys are all fantastic. It's like internet therapy.

Love Bites said...

This post makes my heart hurt. I can't even tell you how many times my friends hooked up and I was alone. Don't get me wrong, I've had my fair share of dates, I've just always felt a little bit less than the rest of my girl pals. The last one to be chosen for the co-ed volleyball game, per se.

The only thing I will say, though it is perhaps cold comfort: you are young, and you have a lot of time to find that guy who will play dinosaurs at the bar with you.

But, I have no doubt that you will. There's nothing wrong with being emotional, by the means you still have a heart and are still human. You might want to hold on to it.

Anonymous said...

My friends and I call our period, 'shark week'...true story!

Rassles said...

The Hiv -

Two things.

1. I can call you the Hiv, right?

2. We call ourselves werewolves.

Rassles said...

LB: In the literal sense, I always seemed to get picked earlier on for sports. People think I look strong.

Oh yes, I know there's time. That doesn't lessen the frustration, unforch.

renalfailure said...

You're at the bottom of your circle's singles ladder too? Awful place to be, don't I know. Gotta wait for your single friends to hook up before you can get who's left, if there is anyone left. And they wonder why people shoot up schools.

Unknown said...

1. can i be your next wedding date? i kick ass at cynical commentary & tequila shots.

2. i am all for crying in public.

3. i will sob hysterically when shark week is over.

Intoxikatie said...

wow. rossi got emotional. sweet. i give you big hug next time i see you. :)

Trouble said...

Rass, baby, I think you need to date Renal Failure.

Rassles said...

I don't know...RF might be a chick. Still trying to work it out.

Tag Larkin, however, is a completely different story.

Anonymous said...

Ohhhh Rossi...emotional outbursts, what? Dare I even provoke a glimmer in your memory of the Good wedding? (shame...)
So, I also cried for the first time EVER at work this week...concluded that I'm the kid who gets hit in the head with a softball when life throws me a "hey, hello, remember reality?" and standing there all dazed, I lose it completely when someone checks on my well-being in that moment. Relates to your comments in the sucking-at-bags blog from earlier (sorry, I am catching up from weeks w/o my computer) -- first need to come to terms with things yourself before anyone else can touch on them...
So, ramble on, I won't -- but as alone as lonliness can make one feel -- having someone can feel just as lonely...not that you need the reassurance. But I do hope to have you making commentary on my life's interactions with you so long as we keep hanging out. It's too much fun to miss out on.

Dean said...

This could my new fav blog! I hate weddings too...

"I just felt his operatic fictional unhappiness was relevant to my nonfictional unhappiness." - FAB!