If I Flew To Your Wedding, You’re Buying My Book

Multiple copies, hunny.

Omg congratulations! That’s the only thing my ears are available for right now. And I want it said with gusto, mkay? I want it said with the kind of fervor we save for white dresses and tiered cakes and left hand jewelry. I’ve been a writer since six years old and I just wrote and self-published the first book of my life. Lift my ass up in a chair, ya got it?

Today I call in repayment. The unspoken transaction that’s been taking place in my social life since I’m 23 that I’ve yet to see actual returns on. You’re familiar with this particular unspoken tango: I spend a shitload of money attending your wedding, and we all assume you’ll do the same for me one day. Except I’m 39 years old and have been single long enough to know a down payment is a better use of wedding funds so even if I do get married, it’s happening at City Hall, and then we’re going to Italy. I don’t need you to celebrate my romantic life. I do however need you to support my professional one.

How much do we think I’ve spent per wedding in the last 16 years? Let’s be kind:

Flight: $350 (I fucking wish)

Hotel: $200/night for two nights so $400(also I’m single remember, I wasn’t splitting this cost with anyone)