Pots and Kettles

I am lusting after kitchenware.

This weekend I bought a colander. It is red, luscious, shiny and all mine. It called out to me: Love me, choose me, pick me. Obviously I couldn't leave without it. Buoyed by the high only a quickly hidden credit card receipt gives, I made a list of all the must-have accessories that will furnish my as-yet un-attained apartment.

There is something strange about the transition from wanting jackets, jeans, and nights full of fancy drinks and trendy appetizers to thinking about investing in stainless steel pots. It follows after dinner parties replace funnel contests as the appropriate use of a kitchen.

After setting my beautiful new strainer in a box along with my future mugs and salad bowls, I started browsing my friend's wedding registries. This was a foreign concept until this year, the year that apparently marks that transition into the “mid-twenties” and the rest of our lives. I was pleased to find that I could show up with a delux garlic crusher or $300 blender.

Happiness for these soon to be newlyweds aside, I take issue with registries. I know that there was a Sex and the City episode about this and let me say this won't be the last time we overlap subject matter. You can only talk about so much when you're single and fabulous.

Given today's lifestyles and that people move out, live together long before they get married, shouldn't showers be revised? Isn't the whole point to help people starting out in life? What if I never get married, don't I deserve designer kitchen knives? Couldn't we have a one-time only big shower - first degree, first big job, first apartment?

My mother said something to this effect. I joked that couldn't I have a "I could have gotten pregnant but chose not to" one. She did not look impressed. Sometimes it amazes me to remember that I'm not the only one who still considers myself 16.