In which I am broken by sparkle
Wheee!
So, I feel kinda naked this morning, despite the fact that I am wearing a long-sleeve tee-shirt, a hockey jersey, and flannel-lined pants (thanks, petzilla! These are my favourite winter snugglies). I feel naked because yesterday, we dropped off my ring to be sized.
ACK NAKED FINGER IS NAKED.
In case you don't remember, this is my ring. I adore it. I chose it because I love the look of it, that the "stone" is metal (which I love for several reasons, including that HotRod is a metal worker and also 'cos it's not a giant-ass, expensive gem that I would feel shitty about losing if I klutzed it out of its setting), that the setting looks like weensy teensy bones, the symbolism that the artist imbued it with (she created it after being inspired by the myth of Persephone which feels fitting for us)...
You get the idea, anyhow. I love this ring like a fat kid loves cake, is what I am saying, ok?
And what you may not know about this ring is that it took us months to find a ring that we both could agree on. I was kinda startled to realise when we started looking that HotRod? Is kinda traditional. And by "kinda," turns out I mean "like whoa." There were emails of links going back and forth and some interesting discussions about what is "appropriate" for married-lady jewelry (for the record: most things I liked? Are not. *cracking up* "But that looks like costume jewelry!" he would cry. "That doesn't look at all like a wedding ring!" "But who get to decide what a wedding ring looks like, anyhow? Why don't we get to decide? Seems like if I am wearing the damned thing, and it's on the stupid wedding finger, and it never comes off... IS that the point?!" And so it went). The things he sent me made me sound a resounding MEH, the things I sent him got sighs of exasperation. The gems I like are too soft for daily wear, and frankly, diamonds kinda bore me - they're all just "HI I AM A DIAMOND AND THAT IS ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW, HOKAY." Also, they're just PLAIN. I mean, I get it - it's all sparkly and you wanna showcase that, and since DeBeers has done such an outstanding job at managing the commercial market and branding, at that markup, you want people paying attention to the stone.
But as a rule: that leads to intense boredom in how they are displayed.
Wow, that was a bit of a digression, wasn't it? Let's call it foreshadowing, shall we? Cool.
So.
Anyhow. I have this gorgeous ring that I adore, but it's a weensy bit too big, since evidently, I kinda between sizes (shocking, right?). So he ordered it in the larger of the sizes, but since it's a leeeetle bit top heavy with that big ass metal "stone," it tends to... Fall over. A lot. So I've been taping the backside (just like my boyfriend's class ring in high school!) to keep it in place.
Saturday was cold and rainy and just... well. Hideously gross - there was snow in some parts of town, and we got freezing rain for over an hour at the house, and I was kinda in a funk (weather + work + kinda freaking out about dinner that night = generally gross me), and I just wanted to GO DO. I didn't know what, but FOR THE LOVE, something. And so HotRod goes "let's go shopping!" And I go "... eh." And he's all "WOMAN, FOR THE LOVE, WHY DON'T YOU LIKE TO SHOP?" "Dude, ok, fine, we'll go shop. I could use some new hunting boots, after all." Him: *heaves sigh*
Anyhow. So we went to the Giant Mall of Destination Shopping and wandered around and talked and, yes, I got new hunting boots (my old ones were kinda falling apart, and while they are ugly as homemade sin, they get the job done when it is gnarly outside, and hey, I can live with camo if it's keeping my toes warm and dry, alright?). And this is when I found out that all the times over the years that he's gone "wanna go shopping?" -- this has been Seekret HotRod Code Words for "I want to buy you shit."
Oh.
Hm.
I did not know that. I thought that meant "I want to go look at ridiculously expensive suits that I have nowhere to wear them to, and spend far too long looking at shoes I will never wear." So I've always said "nah, that's ok, honey - but you go if you want to!"
Yes, really.
Further more, this has been Seekret HotRod Code for "show me things that you like, so I can stockpile ideas for things to buy you other times, and also, O HAI, LOOKIT, a jewelry store! LET'S LOOK THERE."
But me being... well. me - I did not get those hints.
Which, evidently, means I "suck at being a girl." I'm ok with that, though it DID lead to a pretty fantastic conversation about markers of femininity, and my hangups about shopping and jewelry as a whole, and why I've been so resistant to all of these things (I don't want to want things and be disappointed when I don't get them, I don't want to be "that girl" that dictates "This is the ring I want, this is when you will buy it for me, you owe me/ I deserve it for putting up with you/ I am a greedy, selfish bitchface," maybe it will create a sense of obligation for him, o have horrible taste, or I'll pick something outrageously expensive and he'll have a heart attack and THEN where would I be, etc etc etc)(Yes, I may have some baggage), and various other sociological norms. It was pretty rad, actually.
So yesterday, I had these certificate thingers to that underpants store at the mall, and we had the day to ourselves, so we went to go see about getting me some new drawers. As we walked in, we stopped at the map dealie, and HotRod looks up and hey! There's a jewelry store RIGHT HERE, so let's get your ring sized while we're here! And I roll my eyes and FINE, we will have my ring sized. And you know, here are all these CASES of shiny things, and I am kinda raccoon like in my love of sparkle, despite my resistance to actually owning much of it, and so OF COURSE my eyes are drawn to it, and we were just talking about it too...
And of course, since it is - o hai, the HELLIDAZE - of COURSE the salesgirl is all "WHAT CAN I SHOW YOU, MISS?"
*sigh*
And OF COURSE, HotRod's eyes kinda light up and he's like "ooh! REALLY? What do you like? You like that one? Can we see this one?... Yeh, I want her to have a "real" ring, so maybe..." "EXCUSE ME, HI, I HAVE A REAL RING - I can pick it up and HOLD it and EVERYTHING. That's what REAL means, you know!"
And so it went.
ALL THROUGH THE MALL. With occasional breaks to look at shoes and silly hats and things. But mostly: jewelry stores. And the girls asking me what I liked and HotRod saying "I want to get her a REAL ring" and me kinda snarling "I HAVE a real ring, thankyouverymuch, hokay" and the girls being very confused. And we found out that all the things he thought he liked? He doesn't like on me, and that I don't know the types of cuts (or anything, really, other than "dammit, why can't a pearl work?!"), and that we both found it pretty fucking hilarious that at one of the stores, I completely gravitated to a ring, and we both kinda liked it, and... found out it was on clearance for less than my Frye boots cost. *cracking up* Him: "Only YOU, honey, could manage to find and love a piece of "real" jewelry that cost less than your favourite boots, and have it be on clearance too." As we laughed and I teasingly glared at him, I went over to look at something else, and the girl in that store was all "OH, you're in trouble now! She's going to look at the REAL diamonds" and he goes "well, thank god, I've been trying to get her to for years!" And then I had a twinge of "OMG, I am being That Girl." And we both took a deep breath and looked down and... Wow. That's... Kinda rad. And... Wow.
And that's when I knew I had to get the hell out of that store.
And that is why my finger is naked, and the very long-winded version of how I ended up with a sparkle-headache yesterday, and still won't wear a diamond on my "wedding" finger, even if he decides that I really should have that one that we both actually really liked.
So, I feel kinda naked this morning, despite the fact that I am wearing a long-sleeve tee-shirt, a hockey jersey, and flannel-lined pants (thanks, petzilla! These are my favourite winter snugglies). I feel naked because yesterday, we dropped off my ring to be sized.
ACK NAKED FINGER IS NAKED.
In case you don't remember, this is my ring. I adore it. I chose it because I love the look of it, that the "stone" is metal (which I love for several reasons, including that HotRod is a metal worker and also 'cos it's not a giant-ass, expensive gem that I would feel shitty about losing if I klutzed it out of its setting), that the setting looks like weensy teensy bones, the symbolism that the artist imbued it with (she created it after being inspired by the myth of Persephone which feels fitting for us)...
You get the idea, anyhow. I love this ring like a fat kid loves cake, is what I am saying, ok?
And what you may not know about this ring is that it took us months to find a ring that we both could agree on. I was kinda startled to realise when we started looking that HotRod? Is kinda traditional. And by "kinda," turns out I mean "like whoa." There were emails of links going back and forth and some interesting discussions about what is "appropriate" for married-lady jewelry (for the record: most things I liked? Are not. *cracking up* "But that looks like costume jewelry!" he would cry. "That doesn't look at all like a wedding ring!" "But who get to decide what a wedding ring looks like, anyhow? Why don't we get to decide? Seems like if I am wearing the damned thing, and it's on the stupid wedding finger, and it never comes off... IS that the point?!" And so it went). The things he sent me made me sound a resounding MEH, the things I sent him got sighs of exasperation. The gems I like are too soft for daily wear, and frankly, diamonds kinda bore me - they're all just "HI I AM A DIAMOND AND THAT IS ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW, HOKAY." Also, they're just PLAIN. I mean, I get it - it's all sparkly and you wanna showcase that, and since DeBeers has done such an outstanding job at managing the commercial market and branding, at that markup, you want people paying attention to the stone.
But as a rule: that leads to intense boredom in how they are displayed.
Wow, that was a bit of a digression, wasn't it? Let's call it foreshadowing, shall we? Cool.
So.
Anyhow. I have this gorgeous ring that I adore, but it's a weensy bit too big, since evidently, I kinda between sizes (shocking, right?). So he ordered it in the larger of the sizes, but since it's a leeeetle bit top heavy with that big ass metal "stone," it tends to... Fall over. A lot. So I've been taping the backside (just like my boyfriend's class ring in high school!) to keep it in place.
Saturday was cold and rainy and just... well. Hideously gross - there was snow in some parts of town, and we got freezing rain for over an hour at the house, and I was kinda in a funk (weather + work + kinda freaking out about dinner that night = generally gross me), and I just wanted to GO DO. I didn't know what, but FOR THE LOVE, something. And so HotRod goes "let's go shopping!" And I go "... eh." And he's all "WOMAN, FOR THE LOVE, WHY DON'T YOU LIKE TO SHOP?" "Dude, ok, fine, we'll go shop. I could use some new hunting boots, after all." Him: *heaves sigh*
Anyhow. So we went to the Giant Mall of Destination Shopping and wandered around and talked and, yes, I got new hunting boots (my old ones were kinda falling apart, and while they are ugly as homemade sin, they get the job done when it is gnarly outside, and hey, I can live with camo if it's keeping my toes warm and dry, alright?). And this is when I found out that all the times over the years that he's gone "wanna go shopping?" -- this has been Seekret HotRod Code Words for "I want to buy you shit."
Oh.
Hm.
I did not know that. I thought that meant "I want to go look at ridiculously expensive suits that I have nowhere to wear them to, and spend far too long looking at shoes I will never wear." So I've always said "nah, that's ok, honey - but you go if you want to!"
Yes, really.
Further more, this has been Seekret HotRod Code for "show me things that you like, so I can stockpile ideas for things to buy you other times, and also, O HAI, LOOKIT, a jewelry store! LET'S LOOK THERE."
But me being... well. me - I did not get those hints.
Which, evidently, means I "suck at being a girl." I'm ok with that, though it DID lead to a pretty fantastic conversation about markers of femininity, and my hangups about shopping and jewelry as a whole, and why I've been so resistant to all of these things (I don't want to want things and be disappointed when I don't get them, I don't want to be "that girl" that dictates "This is the ring I want, this is when you will buy it for me, you owe me/ I deserve it for putting up with you/ I am a greedy, selfish bitchface," maybe it will create a sense of obligation for him, o have horrible taste, or I'll pick something outrageously expensive and he'll have a heart attack and THEN where would I be, etc etc etc)(Yes, I may have some baggage), and various other sociological norms. It was pretty rad, actually.
So yesterday, I had these certificate thingers to that underpants store at the mall, and we had the day to ourselves, so we went to go see about getting me some new drawers. As we walked in, we stopped at the map dealie, and HotRod looks up and hey! There's a jewelry store RIGHT HERE, so let's get your ring sized while we're here! And I roll my eyes and FINE, we will have my ring sized. And you know, here are all these CASES of shiny things, and I am kinda raccoon like in my love of sparkle, despite my resistance to actually owning much of it, and so OF COURSE my eyes are drawn to it, and we were just talking about it too...
And of course, since it is - o hai, the HELLIDAZE - of COURSE the salesgirl is all "WHAT CAN I SHOW YOU, MISS?"
*sigh*
And OF COURSE, HotRod's eyes kinda light up and he's like "ooh! REALLY? What do you like? You like that one? Can we see this one?... Yeh, I want her to have a "real" ring, so maybe..." "EXCUSE ME, HI, I HAVE A REAL RING - I can pick it up and HOLD it and EVERYTHING. That's what REAL means, you know!"
And so it went.
ALL THROUGH THE MALL. With occasional breaks to look at shoes and silly hats and things. But mostly: jewelry stores. And the girls asking me what I liked and HotRod saying "I want to get her a REAL ring" and me kinda snarling "I HAVE a real ring, thankyouverymuch, hokay" and the girls being very confused. And we found out that all the things he thought he liked? He doesn't like on me, and that I don't know the types of cuts (or anything, really, other than "dammit, why can't a pearl work?!"), and that we both found it pretty fucking hilarious that at one of the stores, I completely gravitated to a ring, and we both kinda liked it, and... found out it was on clearance for less than my Frye boots cost. *cracking up* Him: "Only YOU, honey, could manage to find and love a piece of "real" jewelry that cost less than your favourite boots, and have it be on clearance too." As we laughed and I teasingly glared at him, I went over to look at something else, and the girl in that store was all "OH, you're in trouble now! She's going to look at the REAL diamonds" and he goes "well, thank god, I've been trying to get her to for years!" And then I had a twinge of "OMG, I am being That Girl." And we both took a deep breath and looked down and... Wow. That's... Kinda rad. And... Wow.
And that's when I knew I had to get the hell out of that store.
And that is why my finger is naked, and the very long-winded version of how I ended up with a sparkle-headache yesterday, and still won't wear a diamond on my "wedding" finger, even if he decides that I really should have that one that we both actually really liked.