The thing about registries is...

you always want to buy something for yourself. Or at least I do. I mean, here I am, printing off ten pages of gifts someone wants, I'm gonna go shopping, and not get myself...anything?

And lets just say, hypothetically speaking of course, that your three childhood best friends all get married in the same year. And your sister's two best friends get married as well. Not that this actually ever happens in real life. Because why would that happen to someone who is single and already has a house that needs to be filled with beautiful home goods purchased on somebody else's dollar? This is purely hypothetical.

So there I am, like seven registries in (because I have to go to bridal showers too) and that's when I realize what I've been doing this whole time. I bought those drinking glasses for the bride and a silicon spatula for myself. I purchased a ladle and serving ware for another bride and a turquoise Martha Stewart flour container for myself. And all the while, when that silver ladle is in my shopping basket, I think about how when Brittany gets married she is going to take her ladle with her, and then my house will no longer have a ladle, and okay, maybe I don't even eat soup that often, but what if I did? I totally need a ladle. So I might as well buy one for myself. What happens is I go into Target thinking I'm going to spend about thirty bucks and I leave spending 98 with a shopping cart full of stuff. Because I really needed that new soap pump and washcloths. Because this is torture, looking at all these lovely things and choosing gifts for someone else.

What happens is I'm looking at the cashier, handing over my money when I look down and realize something. I've got a stack of registries printed out with various brides' names at the top of them, and I'M NOT REGISTERED. We won't get into the emotional aspects of that, but what I'm trying to say is, I don't need to be registered because I don't need a vegetable steamer or a rolling pin (wine bottle works just fine), or matching silverware or a rice cooker or a crock pot or high balls or low balls or martini glasses or more than two bath towels or a basting brush or a meat thermometer or a pepper mill or picture frames or a tent or camping equipment or a pancake griddle. I don't need any of those things. What I need is to just go to the ATM and put some money in an envelope so I don't even look at the registry or go in the store. Of course I realize this after the last gift has been bought for the season. But you know, there's always next year.