Registering for avoidance

So, I've got this test tomorrow night on the meaning of the universe according to a bunch of guys who died some 2500 years ago. I'm not what you would call "ready", so in order to GET ready I decided to take Scott to BB&B to register.

That was kind of fun, but the whole thing is still kind of surreal. I feel like I'm 8 and we're playing house. What is it about getting married that makes you suddenly think you need thinks like a mortar and pestle or an ice bucket? You weren't using these things before, but now you have to have them?

We conked out by the bedding, which is just as well because our tastes run towards things like the $400 silk comforter and the $200 sheets -- they were 1000 thread count. Do you need THAT many threads, really??

I still don't see why we can't just register for a bank account -- what's the difference anyways? People are going to be needlessly throwing money away on silly crap just to have a wrapped gift to present and frankly, I'm okay with cash. I've got crap, he's got crap -- we may want new crap but money buys crap, that's the thing that's good about it! No worries about size, color, shape, whatever -- it can't be returned and that is a GOOD thing! If you get two of them, that's better!

But, you can't just say that. You can't tell people to give you money -- money is tacky. Talking about money is tacky, asking for money is tacky, needing money -- TACKY! I still can't get over this phenomenon. It's not like things are free, and it's not like people don't know how much things are -- but God forbid we actually talk about them. Scott and I were together for a good while before I told him how much I make and to this day I couldn't tell you anywhere near how much money he has in his account right now.

Well, I've gone off subject again. And then I'm talking about going off subject.

About the only thing more taboo than that is money!

HP