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Thursday, September 15, 2005

how to register for wedding gifts and avoid being beaten by teamsters

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile!! Well, I don't really know who I'm apologizing to, its not like the Blogger cares. It's like when people write "Dear Diary" on the top of every entry in their journal, as if "Diary" is a real person that cares about their dreams, fears and acne. Actually, I used to do the same thing, only I'd address each journal entry to a different citizen of McDonaldland. As in "Dear Mayor McCheese, a funny thing happened to me while I was get fitted for my orthopedic shoes..." I wrote primarily to Mayor McCheese; I thought an elected municipal official would be the best person with whom to voice my concerns and feelings. Plus, I had a big crush on him when I was seven.

But anyway, the real reason I've neglected posting for so long is because I'm so BUSY! Aside from my normal routine of small-arms dealing to small-armed children and practicing full-contact origami, I now have to do a registry for my wedding. (In case you haven't heard, I got engaged. I'm the future Mrs. McCheese!!)

I know the phrase "registering for gifts" may sound as great as "hot girl on girl action" or "world's largest rice krispie treat" to the untrained ear, but trust me, it's not fun. At least it's not fun if you're a neurotic person like myself.
It's difficult enough for me to ask a bunch of people to give me presents, and then on top of that, specify the exact color, kind, quantity, price and gender of the gifts that I want. In addition, I find myself battling conflicting emotions when choosing anything for the registery. Even picking something as simple as a blender triggers a whole series of internal conflicts:

The modest altruist in me says,
"I don't need gifts! I want all of my guests to donate an orphaned baby to Africa. Or, something along those lines."
The cheap-ass in me then says, "These blenders are WAY too expensive! I don't need a blender for $12.99!! I can just mash together the smoothie ingredients with my bare hands!!"
Inevitably, however, the greedy biatch in my wins out:
"A $200 blender? I don't know...ooh, it comes in PINK!? I'll take three!!!!"

My poor wedding guests. I basically used this thought process to pick all of my items, which is why I'm registered for a two panda bears, a solid-gold toilet and a small family of Mexican children to wait on me hand and foot.

But seriously, it's not like you get to register for anything fun. I'm thinking, "play station!! lifetime supply of kettle corn!! giant keyboard you play with your feet like in the blockbuster Tom Hanks movie, Big!!!!" But proper etiquette tells me I need to pick things like "towels", "kitchen gadgets" and "China". (Tip: China is actually plates and other dinnerware, not the communist country located chiefly in continental East Asia. You cannot register for it. Don't even try. You'll save yourself a couple of hours of torture and UN hearings, trust me.)

The worst thing about china is that its so boring. I get to choose from white, off-white, and "whitish". My grandmother tells me I should register for twelve place settings. Twelve?! I don't have twelve friends!! The only people I hang out with are the local railway teamsters I play poker with every other Thursday. There aren't twelve of them, and besides, its BYOPH (bring your own prison hooch). I hardly think we would need platinum lined gravy boats or cereal bowls for that. Besides, even if I did set out my best china for them, they'd probably just swipe it...those no-good plate-stealing card-cheating teamsters!! (Note: I know absolutely nothing about actual teamsters, who they are or what they steal. If you are reading this and you are a teamster, please do not bludgeon me with a crow bar, or whatever blunt object members of your union prefer. Thanks.)

So, you can see my predicament. And the worst part is, I may have to register again even if I stay married (which is not likely since I'm marrying a fictional mascot for a fast food company). My mom mentioned the other day that you register for gifts when you have a BABY. If I'm having this hard of a time picking stuff myself, how the HELL am I going to be able to pick out gifts for a baby I don't even know!?!? Maybe I can just skip the baby shower altogether. The only people that would come are those damn teamsters, and they won't show up unless there are free finger sandwiches and Mad Dog 20/20.

Comments:
Dude, I'm actually eating the world's largest rice krispie treat right now. How crazy is that.

Grimace!

P.S. Don't ever right about why you're not posting. Actually you can right about it, just don't say that's what it has to do with; or apologize about not blogging. It's like a blogging curse and traps you in blogging purgatory forever.
 
uh, did you say Mad Dog 20/20? This'll me more interesting than that time I got to sit in the front seat of the car!
 
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