The show Bridezillas. And more recently, Bridezillas, Where Are They Now?
I’m embarrassed to admit that if I’m flipping through the channels and stop to watch more than five minutes of an episode, it’s all over. I’ve been known to lose entire Saturdays to Bridezillas marathons. Mike has caught me wide awake and slack-jawed at 2:00 in the morning promising that I’ll turn it off in “just five minutes.” And then there are the nights, like tonight, where I planned to use my quiet time while Mike is at school to catch up on my writing and my blogging. Yeah, here I am blogging all right. About Bridezillas.
Who are the women who go on this show? More importantly, what the hell is wrong with the men who marry them? Are they glutton for punishment or sadomasochistic or simply blind to the insanity of their future brides? I’m actually watching as a woman standing in her wedding dress yells at the tuxedo rental shop on a cell phone because her husband’s suit has a whole in the sleeve – five minutes before she says “I do.” I don’t know about the rest of you wives out there but Mike could have shown up in a chocolate brown toga and I probably wouldn’t have noticed the difference between that and the gorgeous tux he was supposed to wear. All I cared about was that he was there, smiling at me, and waiting for me to get my tush down the aisle to become his wife.
I know my IQ is sinking with every minute I watch but I. Just. Can’t. Stop. If you don’t hear from me for a while notify the authorities. I may have melted into the couch with visions of hot pink, swarovski crystal embossed, wedding veils dancing in my head.