I will admit that my wedding registry is complete bullshit. I hated doing it. It was unlike any Christmas or birthday list I’ve ever put together because I had to agree with someone else on things I do not care about and so I spent most of my time pouting, sighing and then just changing the registry back to my preferences when Chris wasn’t looking.
All that nonsense they show you in magazines and fluffy wedding tv shows that involve couples flitting around a store with some fancy gun, smiling and molesting plateware, smiling at their reflection in stemware? Didn’t happen and for the record, that behavior is gross. There was no hand holding, full of bliss, we don’t need anything but each other moment at my house. There was a lot of “You don’t need that” or “A pistachio green mixer, Heather, is for people who actually bake things” or “Oh, we don’t need four sets of sheets. Really?” or “I have never seen you make guacamole in my life, let’s not pretend you’re going to start now.” And so my registry is a mess that includes enough glasses to drink from and troubleshoot a few wine glass dropping incidents, a china set I may or may not use but it is yellow and pretty if nothing else, a few vases for my blumen, some picture frames, and a few globes for my office because I feel like I deserve them.
I spent half of the time reassuring Chris that this was the only chance we have to get the gifts we want and if they sit in our parent’s basement until we buy a house back home, then so be it. Just because we live here does not mean I am getting screwed out of a fantastic knife set. Chris said he felt like we were acting homeless, like the stuff we had wasn’t enough or that we just couldn’t ask for anything, considering we could afford what anything on the list. Well, newsflash, Captain Selfless, our food will taste better when we use the $400 knives I hope my mother buys me.
Must I explain everything in Heather terms?
Now that I have admitted that I hate everything on my own registry, let’s talk about the one thing I truly want in life. Ritz Carlton sheets. Let’s be honest, I want the whole Ritz bedroom set, but considering the sheets cost $400 themselves, I’ll take it easy and start small. Now, there was no way to actually register for said sheets, but I have made a few announcements strategically and I’m not kidding when I say that my life will be complete when my ass gets to shimmy up and down a set of these bad boys every night. These sheets are luxurious and there is not a chance I’d ever put clothes on again to sleep in bed. In fact, the times I’ve slept on them, a week at the Half Moon Bay Ritz Carlton, I would sneak up to my room just to take off all my clothes, roll around in bed and squeeze in a nap or a magazine. I could diddle one out to the thought of those sheets. That’s how great they are. Don’t take my word for it, go to Ritz and roll around yourself.
I would even voluntarily shower EVERY night before bed like a normal person if I knew that softness was going to hug me every night as I drifted off to sleep. So, just in case anyone is interested supporting my Ritz sheet addiction….