I am getting married to a wonderful guy in a year. While I am excited about getting married, I hate planning the wedding. I was never one of those little girls who planned their weddings, it just wasn't something that I ever thought about.

And now everyone is asking me about colours and bridesmaids dresses, and they want answers to all their questions. well I can't have answers for all their questions, because I don't care about whether the meal is going to be plated or buffet or what the bridesmaids are wearing. Why are any of these details important?

Then, of course, are the wedding traditions that everyone expects me to do. I'm sorry that I think singling out single women to hurl a bunch of flowers at (while they dodge it like it was a grenade) is silly! Also, as much as this may cause controversy, I'm not taking my future husband's last name. It's too much of a hassle, and I've grown attached to my name over the past 23 years. But according to "tradition" I'm supposed to gleefully give that up for tru wuv?? Get real.

On the subject of expectations, why is it that as soon as me and my guy started planning this whole sha-bang, my uterus became communal property? My future in-laws hae decided that I MUST reproduce now. I apologize that I don't view my womenly parts as a clown car. My uterus is not for rent: especially for multiple tennants.

I just wanted a simple casual wedding on a lake in Maine, where after the vows we would all go swimming and eat hamburgers and the traditional wedding whoopie-pie. (Like Oreo Cakesters, only much yummier.) Where nothing would be tossed and ettiquite thrown out the window. But instead of that I've been roped into a semi-formal affair at a mid-coast Maine Inn, and am fighting for just those glorious whoopie pies. But in the end, I'll be marrying the most chill, nerdy guy in the world, and we'll play Rock Band with our cats until we're old and gray