Purgatory: Bridesmaid Dresses

For as much hell that I've endured locating my wedding dress. Guess what? I'm pulling a Sisyphus; pushing the rock up the hill again just to see it roll down.

I would like to stress that I am steering away from the typical bridesmaid dresses. These dresses are so blaoring (blah-boring). Puke on me so you can call it a dress? Even better, have you seen pictures of these models in the magazines? My favorite is the "my appendix is bursting" pose. Coming in second, a very close tie, is the scoliosis pose. If I knew being so unhealthy was a turn-on, I would've signed up for Bulimia 101 in highschool.

Back to the fact, my three bridesmaids all vary in age; hence, their taste in fashion. One bridesmaid has the audacity to fit perfectly into any dress. The other two bridesmaids, not so blessed. Where do I go from here?

Well, I went to Betsey Johnsons and found the perfect dress...of course it was in black! My mother would have a complete cardiac arrest, if my girls walked down the aisle in black. She would curse a hundred miles per hour to god and his militia of saints to come down and straighten this mockery.

I should be the snot rag of a bride, because it's my wedding.

World! I demand you to kneel before me for I am the queen of Whah. The prima donna. The foul snaggletooth bride to be. If you refuse to kneel, than you will be forced to feast on your first born.

Indeed, I've had my share of bridesmaid mute. I've deprived my integrity for the sake of keeping fellow brides happy. My eyes bulge and I break out in hives everytime I think of the fashion trauma both my sisters put me through for their wedding. Evidently, it's been proven that you can make a sucker, out of someone that loves you.

I absolutely refuse to reciprocate the crime. Me? The person with no existence of a conscience. Could I be rearing a beautiful ethical head? Not if I can't help it.