That’s me—the bride. Yes, I’m getting married! It’s just . . . super exciting. Super thrilling. Yeah. So . . . a little about me. I’m twenty-seven years old. I live in New York City. I’m a lawyer—a litigator, in fact, at a scary-big, scary-bad firm. I know that sounds like a totally sh*tty job, but I actually love it. [Note: check with Mattie re: acceptability of profanity in website bio.] Now I’m taking a little break from all that and heading home to Key West to get married. What else can I say about myself? Oh—hobbies! My hobbies include cooking, foreign cinema, hiking and . . .
Oh, God. Wait. Just wait. This is all bullsh*t. My real hobbies? Going out, drinking to excess, and hooking up with random men. Because here’s the truth: I like men. A lot. I like sex. A hell of a lot. And yet here I am, drawing up guest lists and picking out china and writing a bunch of copy for this wedding website for our guests, because I somehow decided that it was a good idea to limit myself to sex with just one man, for the rest of my life? How the hell did that happen? Yes, I should already know the answer to that question, but I’m a little fuzzy on the details. I suspect, however, that it has something to do with . . .
My fiancé. Such a great guy. He’s so cute, and sweet, and funny. He’s smart and interesting . . . and completely clueless about who I really am. Do I love him? Maybe. I definitely like him. I like him so much! I just wish he came in a set of twelve. [Note: can I ask for that on the registry?] Maybe I should tell Will the truth. Let him know what he’s signing up for. Some people think I should. In fact, some people won’t shut up about it. Especially . . .
My maid of honor, partner in crime, best friend, trusted confidant and annoying little conscience mosquito, constantly buzzing around my head and reminding me that I’m not being fair to Will, I have to be honest, marriage is a serious decision, what I’m about to do is going to have repercussions on SNNNNNOOOORRRRE GASP CHOKE oh, sorry, I just died of boredom. I love Freddy, I don’t know what I’d do without her, but honestly, she needs to chill out and enjoy one of her obscure cocktails, because I’m past help. I’m not the only one who thinks so, either. For example . . .
My other bridesmaid and close friend from law school, who has been acting like a bit of a B lately. Moping around Key West when we should be having fun in my final days of freedom, getting all Judge Judy about my bad habits and wicked ways. Not sure what her deal is. Sour grapes, maybe. Speaking of people who won’t stop yapping about my deficiencies . . .
My adoring and adored grandmother, a woman who is brilliant, indomitable, and a total pain in my ass. When she’s not in the kitchen whipping up horrific dishes apparently meant to poison us all, she’s nagging me about my drinking, warning me about my future mother-in-law, or begging me to invite her jailbird clients to the wedding. (Word to the wise: avoid Table 12.) Gran’s disapproval is nothing, however, compared to that of . . .
MOM, JANE, & ANNA
My mother and stepmothers. Mom’s an old hippie who restores houses in Key West. Jane’s a beautiful, slightly bloodless society type. Ana is a proud member of the reprehensible criminal collective known as the United States House of Representatives. They raised me. They know me and love me. And they are united in their opposition to my getting married. In fairness, they know whereof they speak, given that they were each once married to . . .
So, picture me, okay? Then make me male, British, and a total f*cking idiot. That’s my dear old Dad. He’s doing his best to help me sort out my problems, but his parental advice is about as bad as his taste in martinis, and frankly, he’s far too busy doing . . . other things. A lot of other things. On the flipside in the helpfulness department, there’s . . .
Also known as the Wedding Planner from Outer Space. Obsessive, compulsive, detail-oriented, disorganized, chaotic, forgetful and slightly insane. Every bride’s dream, right? The truth is, she’s doing her best. Mattie’s genuinely wants the wedding to be perfect—a Disney fairytale, with me as the princess. Unfortunately, things are heading in a decidedly more Brothers Grimm direction, thanks in large part to . . .
Will’s mom, my (possible) future mother-in-law, and the latest and greatest bane of my existence. Okay, true—I didn’t make the best first impression on her. I was nervous, okay? So I talked too much. And drank too much. And talked about drinking too much. As well as sex, and my family, and a lot of other things that I probably should have saved for later. Or never. But it didn’t matter—Anita had it in for me long before we met, based on some information she’d dug up about my less-than-shining past. She’s not happy about this wedding, and she’s going to do her best to stop it.
Will’s dad. Nice guy. Bald. Whatever. Not much to see here, folks. Let’s move on.
My childhood best friend. We lost touch when I moved away. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again. Until he showed up at my hotel, stirring up memories, forcing me to think about things I’d just . . . rather not think about.
That’s everybody—except for a few other people who make brief appearances during my action-packed wedding week. Like my boss, Philip (amazing in bed—or, rather, on the sofa in his office . . . and a few other places), my coworker Lyle (raging asshole, guessing he has a micropenis), a clueless deposition witness named Pete, a guy I met in a bar, named Tim (or is it Tom?), another guy named James. A guy named . . . actually, I never caught his name. But these aren’t members of the wedding party. They’re just randoms, popping up here and there. No pun intended.
So this is us! Welcome to the party. Let the fun begin.