Yesterday, I opened up my mailbox and discovered a glossy, embossed wedding invitation sandwiched between coupon books and bills. My fridge is dotted with “Save the Date” magnets. Every time I watch TV I am bombarded with a barrage of wedding jewelry commercials imploring me that I must invest in diamonds to show how much I care about my loved ones.

Cue the jingles, bells and a generic soprano: “Every Kiss begins with Kay!” Or the dramatic male baritone: “This Christmas Say Something without Saying Anything!” “Let love Shine!”

Sorry Zales Jewelers, you won't be getting my business or my boyfriend's this year. No, I think my love shines very bright despite my naked finger devoid of a sparkling diamond. I am not belittling marriage itself or, for that matter,Looking for the ideal dress to wear for Halter Wedding Dresses? weddings.

After all, my grandparents both recently celebrated their 50th wedding anniversaries and my parents are going on 28 years of wedded bliss. My family is a rarity in the age of divorce. I have seen the beauty in two people devoting their lives to a shared partnership. I believe in devotion of this kind.

I do not lament marriage itself. It's an individual choice! I do not want to chastise friends or family for choosing to get married, just as I would hope they would not chastise me for deciding that marriage is not a goal for me right now, even though I am in a happy, long-term relationship.

As a “single” female, I am asked a question inspired by Beyonce: “When is he gonna put a ring on it?” I am tired of hearing this because I have other aspirations at the moment, and I dislike weddings themselves.

I lament the “wedding industrial complex.” The wedding industrial complex is like the military industrial complex sans weapons of mass destruction. There are weapons of a different kind. Weapons of consumerism if you will: diamonds worth more than my car, overpriced dresses with trains longer than Rapunzel's hair and layered cakes that evoke carpel tunnel in the bakers from all of the tedious decorating.

I despise the wedding shows “Say Yes to the Dress” and “Bridezilla” and the like that perpetuate the vicious cycle of greedy consumerism. Are you greedy because you chose to have a wedding? No! Certainly some people want to have a special day to celebrate the union of two families and enjoy the party atmosphere.

I try to verbally explain my wedding disdain with my friends and family to no avail. I am not some anti-love oaf shaking my fist at happy couples who chose to get married. I am happy for the couple,Online shopping for custom made designer oscar dresses 2012. yes.

I used to love weddings as a wee one, but they aren't the same for me as an adult introvert. The oom-pa-pa of the accordion blaring in the background has now been replaced with a creepy DJ playing music more suited for a middle school dance than a wedding.

The Shirley temples my sisters and I daintily sipped with no side effect worse than a sugar rush and the gut aches have been replaced by binge drinking and shots. Simply put, weddings are a sober introvert's nightmare! They are frankly exhausting,We provide rental service on a variety of bridal gown wedding dress, qua and tuxedos, etc. what with all the forced socialization, meeting new people, being surrounded by alcohol and noise.

No, instead of spending my treasured summer weekends in a stuffy golf club or dimly lit VFW at a wedding dance, I dream of a summer in which I spend my weekends immersed in the woods. I want to strap on hiking boots or soccer cleats rather than slipping into uncomfortable dress shoes.

I want to hear the orchestral hum of crickets, rustle of leaves in the wind and the crack of the embers in a bonfire instead of a crappy DJ blasting beats. Better yet, I'd even invite the newly betrothed couple and celebrate their marriage in the said woods!

In a few weeks, I will reluctantly make a humble appearance at my cousin's wedding. I am looking for a dress the color of the wallpaper, hoping that I blend in and fade in the background in my introverted bliss.