Registry: Part I

I don't know where to begin. I guess I'll start from the horrific traffic we faced going through Staten Island to get to NJ b/c the NY road people thought it was a good idea to close a lane on the bridge for construction during the busiest travel season ever.

We get to Pottery Barn in Red Bank, NJ, which is a pretty wealthy area, and totally excited, we walk in and get greeted by a ridiculously cheery blonde. I tell her that we want to register. She looks at me with a puzzled stare, pauses for a moment, and then tells us that she is new but she'll get someone to help us. Two minutes later, Amber (I dunno, she looked like an amber) goes and gets Melissa. Melissa, looking like a deer in the headlights, is even more confused. She gets Michele. (I have to add that I can't stand these names because they are both names of ex's of Mike's and so, of course, I have a prejudice to them. And furthermore, Michele should be spelled with two l's unless you're in France, which we are not. Yes, I know that I also shouldn't start a sentence with 'and', so, shut up!)

"You mean, you're here to buy something off a registry?" she inquires.
"No, actually, we want to you register."
"YOU want to register?" the Brainiac questions.
"That's what I said."

Apparently, fat people don't get married in this part of the world. At least, that was the consensus Mike and I came to after this little question and answer session.

So, we start in the back of the store with bedding. Totally not impressed, we move onto the bathroom section. Getting back to the whole being fat thing, we want bath sheets. Not for nothing, who is covered by a bath towel? Certainly, not me, and definitely not, Mr. V. But forgive me, I can't imagine anyone paying $48 per towel and I don't have the co-jones to put that on my registry.

Onto dishes. This is the real reason why we wanted to go to PB. We fell in love with the Sausalito Blanco Collection in square. It is simple and we can throw in colors if we want to, add monogram napkins and a table runner to match, dress it up and dress it down, but most importantly, it comes in a square shape which is what we loved so much and probably the only thing we both can agree on when it comes to plates and bowls. Ok. Mike scans it. He loves the scanner by the way. I think all men do because it's like a dream job to just scan it all and not pay.

Next, we see all these cute Christmas accessories that match our set. We add to the registry snowflake mugs and stirrers and of course, Christmas wine tags which will look great on our over sized wine glasses and brandy snifters, which I have to admit, we only put on because they look kewl. I have never drank brandy nor do I plan on even inviting anyone over that will drink brandy. (You're a fine girl-- sorry, I randomly break out into song.)

We leave PB with the conclusion that we are more of the Target kinda people. Don't get me wrong, Pottery Barn has some beautiful stuff, but I can't see our friends and relatives buying us a throw blanket I can get for a quarter the price. But we did want to keep our registry because we love the dishes and coordinating pieces. Since we're not doing formal China, it's okay to have an everyday set that's a little more valuable than most people would get. And to satisfy the old folks who insist on fine China, this set can be dressed up for the most formal of occasions-- well, sorta!

I go home and can't wait to show my mom. However, when I log on, I see that almost all of my items are unavailable online. I instantly email PB with my disappointing disposition. They send me a personalized response and suggest searching for the items as sets rather than individual as I had originally registered for them. And guess what, still I can't find my items. I respond back with this information and it turns out the square dishes can only be bought in the store. Total freakin bummer considering almost no one we know lives near a Pottery Barn.

They totally suck! And that's all I gotta say.

Target may have a stinky return policy, but you know what, we'll take our chances.

Tar-jey, here we come!