My friend E is getting married (Mazel Tov!) and while I enjoy weddings immensely, E’s latest email has alerted me to a large problem with the entire institution of marriage: the registry. Registries are so FUCKING boring! I mean, honestly, never in my life do I want to give someone a set of pans as a gift, nor would I ever endeavor to ask someone to buy me salt shakers. How impersonal and totally lame. Here is my hypothetical registry for those who plan on coming to my wedding (in ten years or so), which is going to be rad, you may be able to guess…
Diamonds –– big ones
First editions of books
a pet turtle
bongos!
exotic fruit
statues of horses or birds
Koi fish (and a pond to put them in)
good wine
pay for my mound of dry cleaning
write me a love letter
classes to brush up on my scuba diving skillz
a piano (you know what, any sort of musical instrument will work, save the tuba. no interest in the tuba whatsoever.)
any sort of art…well, I’d like to take a look at it first…in case it’s heinous…but if you’re coming to my wedding you ought to know what my taste is.
subscription to The New Yorker or Harper’s or Vogue
An assistant
New ballet slippers
God, this is fun. I could go on for ages. But I won’t.
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