Cold Heart Cash

I want money. I'll take it in the form of cash, check, Visa or Amex gift card. You can PayPal it to me. I'll give you my checking account and routing number.

You sneer, "She has gone off the deep end. Tactless. Totally tactless."

Let me preface my comments with the following. I don't need gifts. I'm independent, self-supporting. I don't need presents to make me happy. If you can't afford one, please do not get me one.

Now back to the tacky discussion. I guess it's perfectly acceptable to register for gifts--essentially telling people you want presents--and printing it on invitations. How many invitations have I received with 'Registered at Williams-Sonoma, Crate and Barrel, Babys R' Us' duly noted.

I can't tell you how many people have whined, "But Catherine, you have to register. C'mon, a Foreman grill, beautiful china, something?"

Ok, people. Dean and I currently cohabitate in a studio--albeit a very large studio--still a friggin studio. I am 34 years old. He's 40. We do not need anything. We do not need an ice-cream maker. We do not need a crystal Lennox frame. We do not need another 500 thread count bed sheet!

I want a wedding that my guests can enjoy. I want a honeymoon. I want a house. I want my child to go to Miss Porter's boarding school where Jackie Onassis went.

Let's say that in order to PayPal me money as my wedding gift, you had to pay an 8% service charge. That's totally not true, but let's say that were the case. You'd cry bloody wedding murder, right? You'd say, no way. No way am I giving that tacky bride my hard-earned cash plus 8% on top of it.

Stop and think now. Do you realize that's exactly what you're doing when you buy something on someone's registry?! It's called sales tax. And in the city of San Francico it's hitting 10%. Not only that, you're most likely paying shipping and handling charges, too.

When I say, I want your cold heart cash, I'm telling you I love you. I'm telling you A) save your 8% tax, B) save your shipping and handling fees, and C) most importantly, save yourself the time of having to browse a wedding registry and look for a gift. It's quite simple.

You want to paint a portrait of Dean and I staring into each other's eyes? I like that. Is there a sentimental gift you've been dying to give me? So cool with that, too. But when did practicality get overshadowed by material things? And when did giving money become so wrong? Who doesn't swoon at the red Chinese envelopes on New Year's? That's what I want to get across. It would be different if we were starting out post-college a decade ago. We have everything we need in terms of 'stuff.'

But not another rice cooker, please.