One of my favorite aunts is very serious about thank-you notes. Serious to the point where you’re not getting a gift next year unless you send a note. So under my aunt’s example, I’ve grown up pretty cognizant of manners.

In fact, I think I was overconfident about my knowledge until I started preparing for Wedding Bonanza 2009. Since planning began, I’ve found myself asking what I should write on the shower invitation, whether to send separate invitations to people at the same address, and whether or not phallic-shaped cupcakes are really acceptable. To my mom’s great relief, I have found a couple of sources to turn to and help reduce the number of phone calls she’s getting from me.

I recently checked out two etiquette books that my mom swears by: the classic Amy Vanderbilt and an updated version of Letitia Baldrige. I have to say, there’s a world between those pages that I haven’t exactly conquered. So I picked out a few odd and interesting highlights in regards to bridal parties and manners.

I don’t typically play games that aren’t on a court, a field, a board, or my computer. But there are times in life when trivia contests and icebreakers are certain to sneak their way in—whether it be preteen birthday parties, corporate team-building exercises, or even bridal showers.

I’m not opposed to the idea of playing games at a bridal shower—they can be really fun, they get people talking, and you’re certainly granted more lenience and creativity than at a company holiday party (where it can get tough after a few beverages to name all the reindeer or find the four employees who have with the company there longest). In fact, it was only a few years ago that I attended a friend’s shower that was centered around games. I tried to recall them all to make a list—a potential guide for the games we could play at Ducky’s bridal shower in April (or a guide of what not to play!). Maybe I’ll even let Angie’s maid of honor poach ideas for that shower as well!

Here’s what I’ve got so far:

• Plant the Kiss on the Hunk. Actually, to be specific, it’s plant the kiss on the poster of the (naked?) hunk. This game was definitely entertaining the last time I played it. This game is especially appropriate for a young group. It’s perfect if the bride has a celebrity crush that’s well known to the attendees (LL Cool J would be mine, for instance). There are other options for mixed audiences and special circumstances, though.

Ducky, left, and Katie, second from right.

I should’ve known that the bridesmaid dress my friends picked out might not be the same one that I would. When I received the e-mail from the bride and company asking for my expert maid-of-honor opinion, I wondered how that strapless number was going to support the large-chested women of the bridal party (myself included).

Because my dearest high-school friend, Ducky, would rather that we bridesmaids just choose a dress ourselves and make her job easier, I figured this was an appropriate time to offer my assistance. I didn’t want to go with an “eh” dress just to avoid putting in any work, and I knew that the bride trusted my opinion. But how do you respond to friends of ten years with a “Great, but I’m going to keep looking?”

Having a bride who understands that you don’t want to wear something horrific in front of a crowd of people—even when it’s her day and she knows you will—is pretty great. I may take it upon myself to worry about losing 10 to 15 pounds before the wedding, but I won’t have to worry about looking like a big bottle of Pepto Bismol or a dancing doll from Disneyland’s It’s a Small World ride. But with the privilege of helping to select a gown also comes a little more work on the bridesmaids’ part. And, in my case, a little concern about clashing tastes.

It’s February, and I’m going to be traveling to three weddings this year—so far. With three engagements just sealed over Christmas and others I predict approaching, it may be more than that. I’ll be a bridesmaid in one and maid of honor in another. And I still don’t know how I’ll come up with all the cash.

When it comes to sharing a loved one’s big day, the only thing I can think of when I hear that excited voice on the other end of the phone is “Yay!” and “Congratulations!” and “Another one bites the dust!” But usually it’s only after I’ve agreed to some degree of responsibility that I start thinking about how much it’ll cost.

For me, the biggest expense is the travel. Three plane tickets—or six nine-hours-a-leg tanks of gas for my Corolla—far outweigh any Lenox place setting I might buy or singles I’ll be tucking under the stripper’s G-string. Especially when flying into one of the most expensive airports in the United States (Cincinnati—surprising, right?). But whether you have to travel or not, there are plenty of things the bridal party ought to think about when budgeting for a loved one’s big day. I’m still working on my plan of attack—maybe writing this blog will serve as my motivation.

Katie, middle, with Angie, left, and Ducky.

I was at Macy’s doing some post-Christmas shopping with my boyfriend when I saw the new voice mail pop up on my phone—and as much as my friends love me, they don’t usually sound this excited to talk to me. A return call confirmed it: My friend was engaged!

I’m 25 and from the Midwest, so like most young people fitting that description, I’m looking ahead to a year full of weddings in 2009. That Macy’s call makes the sixth engagement I celebrated in 2008. Of those engagements, three have set their wedding dates for the summer of 2009.

Bride number one: I’ll call her Ducky (weird story). She lives in Cincinnati and is my best friend from high school, and I’ll be the maid of honor in her June wedding. I’ll also be a bridesmaid in the May wedding for Bride number two, a former roommate and one of my best friends from college, whom I’ll call Angie.