I saw this March 3 Annie's Mailbox advice column today. I liked the advice Kathy Mitchell and Marcy Sugar offered to "Perplexed in the Midwest," but people like "Perplexed" could use a little more information when choosing an engagement ring.
Perhaps it's not too romantic to think about the practical aspect of money when trying to buy a ring intended to tell the woman you love you want to spend the rest of your life with her. It's hard to put a price on that. But people need to know that jewelers do put a price on our sentiment and they inflate it far beyond its value.
That's where I take issue with Mitchell's and Sugar's advice to "Perplexed." They use the word "value" in their response. That's the wrong word. If you buy an engagement ring retail, whether it is diamond-jeweled or sports a simulated stone, the price you pay will only have a fractional relation to its financial value.
Depending on where you get your information, retail markup of jewelry, particularly in mall stores, is commonly 300 percent or more. I've written several posts on this blog (search engagement ring if you are curious) detailing the prolonged and financially frustrating process I went through to try to sell a ring a few years ago after a failed engagement. I'm not sure if I confessed that I got about one-fifth of the original price of the ring after it was sold on consignment.
So, if you are thinking of buying an engagement ring, don't be afraid to compare prices. You might also want to consider shopping at a store that specializes in estate or consignment jewelry.
Precious metals and jewels are expensive enough (have you seen the price of gold lately?). Do you really need to pay three, five, 10 times beyond what jewelry is really worth?
You can't put a price on love and no one who buys an engagement ring ever expects to have to recoup their costs. That's not what buying an engagement ring is about. But you don't have to pay hugely inflated markup for what will be an expensive purchase, no matter what. Making a smart purchasing choice will get you a far better value and leave more money in your pocket to start your life together on the best financial footing. It's hard to have happily ever after when you start off by pissing away, let's say, $5,000-plus for something that is really only worth about $1,000.
Mitchell and Sugar are right. A man shouldn't lie to his prospective bride about the type of stone in a ring. But prospective grooms shouldn't buy the lie that that ring in the shiny display case is really worth its obscenely bloated price tag. If she's worth spending 4 or 5 or 6 digits on, then shop around and get her 2 or 3 or 5 times the ring for the same price. You may find that cubic zirconium can transform into a diamond right in front of your wallet.
Showing posts with label jewelry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jewelry. Show all posts
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Sunday, June 18, 2006
That's a wrap
Updated July 22, 2006 1:48 a.m. New information is at the bottom of this post.
If all goes well, I may finally be getting rid of a 14-karat gold and diamond albatross that's been hanging around my neck for more than two years.
I found out last week that someone has made an offer on the ring I have been trying to sell on consignment. The ring is a ring that I bought as an engagement ring in December 2003. The ring was given back to me two years ago this month. It took quite a while to decide what to do with it. I didn't admit it to myself at the time, but I'm pretty sure I held onto it for as long as I did in some sort of false hope that the woman I had given it to would want it back. Want me back. I finally decided to sell it when I knew with all my being that I didn't want her back. That, and I needed cash. I was broke.
Well, I still haven't got any cash out of the deal, and the offer on the ring, which isn't officially finalized yet, is less than I was asking and far, far less than I paid for the ring initially. And I'm still broke and really want to be done with the whole affair and put it all behind me -- lock, stock and facet.
When I found out about the offer, I knew I would make a blog post about it, about the closing of that chapter of my life. But I quickly came to learn something else. I got this overwhelmingly strong feeling that it would be my last blog post here.
Back when Digital Fishwrap was launched in December 2004, I wrote in the first post that "I can't say there will be a theme to this blog, or even a cohesive thread running through it. ...
I merely seek a little better understanding of life and a better way to live it."
But there has been a theme running through this blog and that is of a man who lost love and is trying to learn how to live again. The better understanding I sought was how to move on.
I mentioned the former fiancee and the ring in the first post too, detailing how I had the theme music for "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly," as my ringtone for her on my cell phone. I wrote, "Perhaps that's a story for another post: How the symbol of our relationship went from a diamond ring to 'The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.' " Well, the ringtone is still in the phone, but her number is long gone and mine has changed.
Sure, there have been posts on here about a lot of other topics. Early on that was probably as much to convince myself that I was moving on as anything else. Later, I actually found other things I was compelled to write about. My daughter and the relationship I have, or am working to try to have, with her has probably been a pretty visible subplot.
Somewhere along the line I found a voice -- tone deaf and off pitch as it may may be -- and I had fun with the site. It got me writing again at a time when I wasn't writing much. Now, I'm writing more outside this space and the writing here has grown infrequent, tired and forced.
The time has come to turn my attention to new things, to different things. Perhaps I may resurface in the blogosphere again, with a new site and a new theme. But not this one.
I hate goodbyes, as perhaps the whole "theme" of this site has illustrated in documenting a two-year journey to say goodbye to a life I no longer have and a person I no longer am. So I really hate to say goodbye to the loyal dozen or so folks who have regularly checked in on this site, from locations near and far, including some old, dear friends and some new ones made through reading each other's blog posts.
I did consider coming out of the blogging closet as it were, revealing the man behind the G-man, and maybe taking this blog in a new direction. But that just didn't feel right. If I've learned nothing else in the last couple of years, with the end of the most emotionally serious relationship and a change in jobs and a major relocation, I have learned that sometimes we have to say goodbye to something before we can move on to the next thing.
I also thought about deleting this blog site completely. Just disappearing and being all mysterious. But I think I'll leave it up, at least for a while. There are some posts here I actually was quite proud of, typos and all, even though I never did compile a "favorite posts" list like I considered at one time. Maybe I'll back up a few of them onto a disk somewhere to read what a miserable schmuck I was back when.
But mostly I need to leave it up so all the people searching for "heart-shaped nipples," "nocturnal nose bleeds," "Barry Manilow," "Apollonia's tits," and "naked pool boys" can stumble on the site and wonder what the fuck this wacky site is all about.
I hope along the way something you've read here made you smile or laugh, even if you were laughing at me.
Thanks for the comments, for sharing part of my journey and for being part of my therapy. I am appreciative and grateful.
Well, except for you people who only came for the heart-shaped nipples.
Perverts! (E-mail me. We'll talk.)
If all goes well, I may finally be getting rid of a 14-karat gold and diamond albatross that's been hanging around my neck for more than two years.
I found out last week that someone has made an offer on the ring I have been trying to sell on consignment. The ring is a ring that I bought as an engagement ring in December 2003. The ring was given back to me two years ago this month. It took quite a while to decide what to do with it. I didn't admit it to myself at the time, but I'm pretty sure I held onto it for as long as I did in some sort of false hope that the woman I had given it to would want it back. Want me back. I finally decided to sell it when I knew with all my being that I didn't want her back. That, and I needed cash. I was broke.
Well, I still haven't got any cash out of the deal, and the offer on the ring, which isn't officially finalized yet, is less than I was asking and far, far less than I paid for the ring initially. And I'm still broke and really want to be done with the whole affair and put it all behind me -- lock, stock and facet.
When I found out about the offer, I knew I would make a blog post about it, about the closing of that chapter of my life. But I quickly came to learn something else. I got this overwhelmingly strong feeling that it would be my last blog post here.
Back when Digital Fishwrap was launched in December 2004, I wrote in the first post that "I can't say there will be a theme to this blog, or even a cohesive thread running through it. ...
I merely seek a little better understanding of life and a better way to live it."
But there has been a theme running through this blog and that is of a man who lost love and is trying to learn how to live again. The better understanding I sought was how to move on.
I mentioned the former fiancee and the ring in the first post too, detailing how I had the theme music for "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly," as my ringtone for her on my cell phone. I wrote, "Perhaps that's a story for another post: How the symbol of our relationship went from a diamond ring to 'The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.' " Well, the ringtone is still in the phone, but her number is long gone and mine has changed.
Sure, there have been posts on here about a lot of other topics. Early on that was probably as much to convince myself that I was moving on as anything else. Later, I actually found other things I was compelled to write about. My daughter and the relationship I have, or am working to try to have, with her has probably been a pretty visible subplot.
Somewhere along the line I found a voice -- tone deaf and off pitch as it may may be -- and I had fun with the site. It got me writing again at a time when I wasn't writing much. Now, I'm writing more outside this space and the writing here has grown infrequent, tired and forced.
The time has come to turn my attention to new things, to different things. Perhaps I may resurface in the blogosphere again, with a new site and a new theme. But not this one.
I hate goodbyes, as perhaps the whole "theme" of this site has illustrated in documenting a two-year journey to say goodbye to a life I no longer have and a person I no longer am. So I really hate to say goodbye to the loyal dozen or so folks who have regularly checked in on this site, from locations near and far, including some old, dear friends and some new ones made through reading each other's blog posts.
I did consider coming out of the blogging closet as it were, revealing the man behind the G-man, and maybe taking this blog in a new direction. But that just didn't feel right. If I've learned nothing else in the last couple of years, with the end of the most emotionally serious relationship and a change in jobs and a major relocation, I have learned that sometimes we have to say goodbye to something before we can move on to the next thing.
I also thought about deleting this blog site completely. Just disappearing and being all mysterious. But I think I'll leave it up, at least for a while. There are some posts here I actually was quite proud of, typos and all, even though I never did compile a "favorite posts" list like I considered at one time. Maybe I'll back up a few of them onto a disk somewhere to read what a miserable schmuck I was back when.
But mostly I need to leave it up so all the people searching for "heart-shaped nipples," "nocturnal nose bleeds," "Barry Manilow," "Apollonia's tits," and "naked pool boys" can stumble on the site and wonder what the fuck this wacky site is all about.
I hope along the way something you've read here made you smile or laugh, even if you were laughing at me.
Thanks for the comments, for sharing part of my journey and for being part of my therapy. I am appreciative and grateful.
Well, except for you people who only came for the heart-shaped nipples.
Perverts! (E-mail me. We'll talk.)
Update: It has been well over a month since I wrote this post, and guess what? I still haven't got the money from the fucking ring. I swear that fucking thing will never go away.
I have been trying for weeks to get in touch with the people at the jewelry story that is supposed to be selling the ring. I called one day a few weeks ago on a Friday afternoon and the woman I've been dealing with in this saga wasn't there. Apparently the store was closing, or already closed. Obviously the reason the place hasn't been able to sell that damn ring is they are never open! Maybe the store is a hobby or something, because they seem to have limited hours and limited days of the week when anyone is even there. Obviously, I didn't notice that when I was living in that town, because I was working a swingshift, so I could pop in there at midday and transact my business before heading to work. Of course anyone who actually has anything approaching a normal job is not a customer there.
Anyway, The woman I talked to suggested I call back the following Monday. The problem is, I work during the week, during those few limited hours the store is open (life from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. or something). And I would always forget to call over lunch. I would remember that I had not called when I got home from work each day and was walking to my mailbox and realized there was no check in there.
Finally, one day this week, I remembered to call during the middle of the day, and got the woman I've been dealing with. But apparently the woman who writes the checks has been out on some sort of family emergency. She was supposed to be back by end of this week or next. So the jewelry shop lady tells me that the check should go out next week and she will call me when it does.
So, we'll see if she calls and if the check actually comes. If she had not told me the check was coming, I was determined to have them just ship the ring to me so I could sell it myself, or toss it in the Willamette River, or something. Maybe I could take it to bars, toss it up on the bar and tell any woman who asked about it a sob story to see if they would take pity on the "broken" man with an expensive ring, and no finger to put it on.
Frankly I'd rather have the cash. Besides, there's another woman in my life who already knows the real sob story, and it's looking like maybe, just maybe, if I haven't so offended God that he pushes me further, she may be moving quite a bit closer to my current home. And maybe we might actually get to spend some time together. I don't want to jinx it. But I'm optimistic. And I don't think she would care for a slightly used piece of jewelry, no matter how well things go between us and how understanding she may be.
So my attempt to wrap up the Fishwrap, not to mention the whole failed engagement saga, in a nice little bow didn't quite work out the way I had planned. But then again, life rarely works out the way we think it will, does it? And that's part of what makes it exciting and interesting. The end of every chapter, every story every blog post isn't really an end. It's just the beginning of something else, the epilogue. The story beyond and behind the story.
Sometimes when we read someone else's story, we are left to wonder what happened after the final chapter. And we are left to write our own epilogue to the story penned by someone else. So, if you bother to write an epilogue to this saga, do me a favor. Make it a happy ending.
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Monday, December 05, 2005
When you don't want a diamond to be forever
If I ever ask a woman to marry me again, if that idea ever crosses my mind, will someone please remind me NOT to do it on a major holiday?!?!
Two years ago on Christmas Eve I gave a woman a diamond ring and asked her to marry me. It made for a fantastic Christmas at the time, because she said yes. It was all very festive.
For a while.
She gave the ring back less than 6 months later.
Somehow, I got through the holiday season last year. Needless to say, I wasn't very much in the holiday spirit. I don't remember much about the holiday actually. I was with family, which was good, but it is mostly a blur. It was a date to endure.
Now, a year later, I wasn't anticipating this to be a particularly difficult holiday. The broken heart had healed. Right? And it's not like I'm a blubbering idiot or an overly emotional sap, but there are fucking reminders of that Christmas 2 years ago everywhere I seem to look. And it's starting to piss me off. All those damn jewelers and their holiday commercials are conspiring to torment me.
Now, I had waited 38 years before proposing marriage to a woman, so I certainly didn't expect it to become a failed engagement. And I certainly wouldn't want to go into another engagement, should that opportunity ever arise, thinking of what some date on a calendar will mean to me in the aftermath of another failed engagement or, God forbid, a failed marriage. But still. I don't think I would choose to pop the big question on Christmas, New Year's, Valentine's Day, Independence Day, Memorial Day, Labor Day, Thanksgiving, or any other date on the calendar society uses for social celebrations. You know. Just. Well. Just in case.
Perhaps that sounds a tad pessimistic. And lord knows when you are in love that is not a pessimistic time. So who knows. Maybe I would do it all over again if given the chance. And I certainly hope there will be (at least) one more chance.
Now if I could just get Zales and Kay and DeBeers and all those other folks, who are desperately trying to financially rape unsuspecting romantics by enticing them into buying outrageously overpriced diamonds and gold for their sweethearts this holiday season, to just go the fuck away this may not be a bad Christmas after all.
On another note, I'm sorry it has been a while since my last post. Things have been a bit busy. It's actually been kind of nice to have some social obligations of late, particularly this time of year. It's good to spend time with family, friends and colleagues. It's shaping up to busy a busy month. So, my apologies if the posts get a pit sporadic.
This month the ol' Digital Fishwrap will celebrate it's first birthday. I've been doing this for a year, and I'm still not sure what the goal, or theme, of this blog is supposed to be. And maybe there isn't one. Maybe it's just a way to puke some words onto a digital page and see what patterns they make as they slide down the screen. But sometimes it's fun, and it's led, indirectly at least, to "meeting" some nice folks who like to write, and have a knack for it. So, that can't be all bad, now can it?
Holiday Scrooge
Christmas
Relationships
Blogging
Two years ago on Christmas Eve I gave a woman a diamond ring and asked her to marry me. It made for a fantastic Christmas at the time, because she said yes. It was all very festive.
For a while.
She gave the ring back less than 6 months later.
Somehow, I got through the holiday season last year. Needless to say, I wasn't very much in the holiday spirit. I don't remember much about the holiday actually. I was with family, which was good, but it is mostly a blur. It was a date to endure.
Now, a year later, I wasn't anticipating this to be a particularly difficult holiday. The broken heart had healed. Right? And it's not like I'm a blubbering idiot or an overly emotional sap, but there are fucking reminders of that Christmas 2 years ago everywhere I seem to look. And it's starting to piss me off. All those damn jewelers and their holiday commercials are conspiring to torment me.
Now, I had waited 38 years before proposing marriage to a woman, so I certainly didn't expect it to become a failed engagement. And I certainly wouldn't want to go into another engagement, should that opportunity ever arise, thinking of what some date on a calendar will mean to me in the aftermath of another failed engagement or, God forbid, a failed marriage. But still. I don't think I would choose to pop the big question on Christmas, New Year's, Valentine's Day, Independence Day, Memorial Day, Labor Day, Thanksgiving, or any other date on the calendar society uses for social celebrations. You know. Just. Well. Just in case.
Perhaps that sounds a tad pessimistic. And lord knows when you are in love that is not a pessimistic time. So who knows. Maybe I would do it all over again if given the chance. And I certainly hope there will be (at least) one more chance.
Now if I could just get Zales and Kay and DeBeers and all those other folks, who are desperately trying to financially rape unsuspecting romantics by enticing them into buying outrageously overpriced diamonds and gold for their sweethearts this holiday season, to just go the fuck away this may not be a bad Christmas after all.
***
On another note, I'm sorry it has been a while since my last post. Things have been a bit busy. It's actually been kind of nice to have some social obligations of late, particularly this time of year. It's good to spend time with family, friends and colleagues. It's shaping up to busy a busy month. So, my apologies if the posts get a pit sporadic.
This month the ol' Digital Fishwrap will celebrate it's first birthday. I've been doing this for a year, and I'm still not sure what the goal, or theme, of this blog is supposed to be. And maybe there isn't one. Maybe it's just a way to puke some words onto a digital page and see what patterns they make as they slide down the screen. But sometimes it's fun, and it's led, indirectly at least, to "meeting" some nice folks who like to write, and have a knack for it. So, that can't be all bad, now can it?
Holiday Scrooge
Christmas
Relationships
Blogging
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Want fries with your ketchup?
It's time to play a little catch-up. My routine, including my blogging routine, has been off since I returned from vacation. Everything is out of whack. But I have been fairly productive and got a lot of errands done when I wasn't sitting here typing much ado about nada.
So, here are some of the highlights of the last week for the smartasses (yes, that include you Brat) who left comments on the last post on here. But the rest of you can feel free to read along as well.
With this ring, I thee pawn
The good news is that I found a local jeweler willing to take a slightly used engagement ring on consignment. The bad news is, a buyer has still not been found, so I still don't have any cash in my meager coffers, otherwise known as my checking and (ha, ha) savings accounts. And the depressing news, though not surprising, it that the jeweler said he would probably only be able to sell it for about somewhere around a quarter of what I paid for it.
The moral of the story, don't buy your jewelry from a large chain retailer. Or is it never buy expensive jewelry symbolizing undying love for a woman who only hold onto it long enough to invalidate the 90-day moneyback return policy. I can't remember which one is the real moral, but when I figure it out I'll let you know.
Strange dreams
Speaking, indirectly, of the ex, for some strange reason (and maybe it's the whole attempt to sell the ring thing) she has been making periodic co-starring appearances in my dreams lately. I find this quite annoying since I have actually got to the point where I have been able to go days without even thinking about her. Now, she's back, if only to haunt my dreams. OK, well one of them was not bad, since it was a sex dream. Hell, we only had sex once in the entire 6 months of our engagement, so I got as lucking in a dream as I was for all of 2004.
Working vacation
The last couple of days of my vacation were spent running errands. All the mundane things of like that I pile up when I'm working.
I got the oil changed in my truck and got it washed. So it's looking decent for an aging gal. Not that I can afford to drive her now. The price of gas has hit $2.50 a gallon here in Palm Springs for the cheapest grade at the cheapest stations. Premium grades and some stations are even higher. I think I should have grabbed my old 10-speed bike out of my parents' garage when I was there to visit.
I also did some shopping for my daughter's birthday presents and got those shipped off in time to arrive for her birthday, which was Saturday. I also bought a couple of DVDs and computer games for myself.
And yes, I have wasted untold blogging hours this week playing a new computer game. But you will all be glad to hear that I have saved the world from neo-Nazi terrorists, but please don't tell anyone I told you. This was all covert ops, and I was sworn to secrecy. So, shhhhh!
Work, the pope and missed birthdays
I don't talk about work on here, much if ever. I have no desire to be Dooced, thank you very much. But I will say this, the days back at work after been gone for a week-plus have been long. And to top it all, the pope's dying on Saturday meant I got to work Saturday. I wasn't a follower of his or anything, and I didn't care much for his fashion sense, but I wasn't too keen on having to work my first Saturday back in town. And to top it off it was also my daughter's and a good friend's birthday. Well, at least I got to call both of them. Oh, and if you bother to check out Gene's blog, I'll be curious if anyone else thinks there is some irony to the pope of the Catholic Church dying on Gene's birthday. There is a metaphor in there somewhere Gene, I just haven't completely unearthed it yet. By the way my 14-year old daughter is attending a Catholic school. Oh, and the last time a pope for the Catholic church was selected, I was about her age.
Misc.
I'm sure I'm leaving something out. Some witty observations I intended to post, some salient details that would give insight or share wisdom. But maybe that time spend lounging by the pool in the warm sun Sunday afternoon bleached the thoughts from my brain. Or maybe I'm too tired to think straight at the moment. I got up early to write my column this morning so I could make a lunch appointment with a former college professor today before work. And now, I'm running on fumes. So, anything else will have to wait for later.
Yea, I feel a little guilt for not posting more the last week or so. But I'm sure I'll get over it.
Blogging
So, here are some of the highlights of the last week for the smartasses (yes, that include you Brat) who left comments on the last post on here. But the rest of you can feel free to read along as well.
With this ring, I thee pawn
The good news is that I found a local jeweler willing to take a slightly used engagement ring on consignment. The bad news is, a buyer has still not been found, so I still don't have any cash in my meager coffers, otherwise known as my checking and (ha, ha) savings accounts. And the depressing news, though not surprising, it that the jeweler said he would probably only be able to sell it for about somewhere around a quarter of what I paid for it.
The moral of the story, don't buy your jewelry from a large chain retailer. Or is it never buy expensive jewelry symbolizing undying love for a woman who only hold onto it long enough to invalidate the 90-day moneyback return policy. I can't remember which one is the real moral, but when I figure it out I'll let you know.
Strange dreams
Speaking, indirectly, of the ex, for some strange reason (and maybe it's the whole attempt to sell the ring thing) she has been making periodic co-starring appearances in my dreams lately. I find this quite annoying since I have actually got to the point where I have been able to go days without even thinking about her. Now, she's back, if only to haunt my dreams. OK, well one of them was not bad, since it was a sex dream. Hell, we only had sex once in the entire 6 months of our engagement, so I got as lucking in a dream as I was for all of 2004.
Working vacation
The last couple of days of my vacation were spent running errands. All the mundane things of like that I pile up when I'm working.
I got the oil changed in my truck and got it washed. So it's looking decent for an aging gal. Not that I can afford to drive her now. The price of gas has hit $2.50 a gallon here in Palm Springs for the cheapest grade at the cheapest stations. Premium grades and some stations are even higher. I think I should have grabbed my old 10-speed bike out of my parents' garage when I was there to visit.
I also did some shopping for my daughter's birthday presents and got those shipped off in time to arrive for her birthday, which was Saturday. I also bought a couple of DVDs and computer games for myself.
And yes, I have wasted untold blogging hours this week playing a new computer game. But you will all be glad to hear that I have saved the world from neo-Nazi terrorists, but please don't tell anyone I told you. This was all covert ops, and I was sworn to secrecy. So, shhhhh!
Work, the pope and missed birthdays
I don't talk about work on here, much if ever. I have no desire to be Dooced, thank you very much. But I will say this, the days back at work after been gone for a week-plus have been long. And to top it all, the pope's dying on Saturday meant I got to work Saturday. I wasn't a follower of his or anything, and I didn't care much for his fashion sense, but I wasn't too keen on having to work my first Saturday back in town. And to top it off it was also my daughter's and a good friend's birthday. Well, at least I got to call both of them. Oh, and if you bother to check out Gene's blog, I'll be curious if anyone else thinks there is some irony to the pope of the Catholic Church dying on Gene's birthday. There is a metaphor in there somewhere Gene, I just haven't completely unearthed it yet. By the way my 14-year old daughter is attending a Catholic school. Oh, and the last time a pope for the Catholic church was selected, I was about her age.
Misc.
I'm sure I'm leaving something out. Some witty observations I intended to post, some salient details that would give insight or share wisdom. But maybe that time spend lounging by the pool in the warm sun Sunday afternoon bleached the thoughts from my brain. Or maybe I'm too tired to think straight at the moment. I got up early to write my column this morning so I could make a lunch appointment with a former college professor today before work. And now, I'm running on fumes. So, anything else will have to wait for later.
Yea, I feel a little guilt for not posting more the last week or so. But I'm sure I'll get over it.
Blogging
Friday, March 11, 2005
For love or money?
It is amazing how quickly the last few months have passed. The time has literally, and mercifully, flown by.
I say mercifully because about nine months ago, I wasn’t sure I could make it through the summer, let alone make it to 2005. My world came unraveled in June. The previous year-plus had been probably one of the happiest and most personally satisfying periods of my life. I had started dating a woman in March 2003, moved in with her in July of that year, and by December we were engaged. It had taken me until my late 30s to find a woman I wanted to ask to marry me, and was thrilled when she said yes.
The thrill ended in June of last year, when she gave back the ring. I won’t bore you with the details, but if curious, there is more about that here and here. Somehow, the heart – the one that I thought was so thoroughly shattered I would have sworn pieces had been vaporized – began to reassemble. That heart, the emotional heart, rebuilt and started beating again. The life, also shattered, knitted itself back together. I moved out long before I moved on, but somewhere along the way I moved on as well. A new apartment, a new outlook and a new beginning.
I have no regrets about the apartment I chose to move into. At the time, it was the only place I found were I could actually start to see myself living again. But the rent was more than I had been paying as the live-in guy, or even before that as the single guy. The new place was brand new, never lived in. I wasn’t following in anyone else’s footsteps here, I was blazing my own trail.
But, now I’m finding that the cost of just living, and paying for the living I’ve done previously (those damned credit cards) is more than I take home each month. So, the time has come to sell the ring.
Sometime over the last period of months, the ring has transformed from a diamond and gold symbol of love, to just a piece of unwanted and unneeded jewelry. And hopefully, into a source of some urgently needed cash. Now I just have to figure out how to go about the logistics of selling a piece of jewelry. And I think I can do that. I figured out how to buy an engagement ring with no previous experience, I supposed I can figure out how to sell one as well.
And don’t go suggesting ebay, because I have no interest in the hassle of setting up an auction and then shipping this thing off, nor the risk of not actually getting paid. I ain’t going there. But fortunately I live in a place where jewelry stores that specialize in, or sell to some extent or another, estate jewelry. Not that one ring qualifies as an estate, but these people have to buy the jewelry from someone, why not buy a diamond ring from me?
So, that’s going on the to-do list, and ASAP. I have rent to pay again in a few weeks, and a vacation coming up, for which I am as broke as I was in college. You know that broke? The one where you can’t even go to the ATM because you don’t even have $20 left in your account to be able to make a withdrawal? I’m about there.
As I was thinking about this business transaction prompted by financial need, I found myself looking starting to put this post together and looked at the calendar. And the irony was, and I’m a big fan of irony, I realized that I was supposed to be getting married this month. This weekend as a matter of fact. Saturday, March 12, 2005 was supposed to be the big day. The date was chosen because it would have almost been the 2-year anniversary of our first date, which was March 13, 2003.
That made me pause for a moment or three. Wow.
If things had gone according to the original plan I would be in another city on the other side of the country preparing to say I do right about now. A few months ago, I was really dreading March 12, 2005. But in the here-and-now, it almost snuck up on me without even noticing.
How did that happen?
I don’t know. But I’m glad it did. I’m glad I’m not in Tennessee. I’m glad March 12 is just another day.
OK, so I’m not glad that my ass is so broke, but it is definitely better to be broke than broken. That I know for sure.
Life
Love
Money
I say mercifully because about nine months ago, I wasn’t sure I could make it through the summer, let alone make it to 2005. My world came unraveled in June. The previous year-plus had been probably one of the happiest and most personally satisfying periods of my life. I had started dating a woman in March 2003, moved in with her in July of that year, and by December we were engaged. It had taken me until my late 30s to find a woman I wanted to ask to marry me, and was thrilled when she said yes.
The thrill ended in June of last year, when she gave back the ring. I won’t bore you with the details, but if curious, there is more about that here and here. Somehow, the heart – the one that I thought was so thoroughly shattered I would have sworn pieces had been vaporized – began to reassemble. That heart, the emotional heart, rebuilt and started beating again. The life, also shattered, knitted itself back together. I moved out long before I moved on, but somewhere along the way I moved on as well. A new apartment, a new outlook and a new beginning.
I have no regrets about the apartment I chose to move into. At the time, it was the only place I found were I could actually start to see myself living again. But the rent was more than I had been paying as the live-in guy, or even before that as the single guy. The new place was brand new, never lived in. I wasn’t following in anyone else’s footsteps here, I was blazing my own trail.
But, now I’m finding that the cost of just living, and paying for the living I’ve done previously (those damned credit cards) is more than I take home each month. So, the time has come to sell the ring.
Sometime over the last period of months, the ring has transformed from a diamond and gold symbol of love, to just a piece of unwanted and unneeded jewelry. And hopefully, into a source of some urgently needed cash. Now I just have to figure out how to go about the logistics of selling a piece of jewelry. And I think I can do that. I figured out how to buy an engagement ring with no previous experience, I supposed I can figure out how to sell one as well.
And don’t go suggesting ebay, because I have no interest in the hassle of setting up an auction and then shipping this thing off, nor the risk of not actually getting paid. I ain’t going there. But fortunately I live in a place where jewelry stores that specialize in, or sell to some extent or another, estate jewelry. Not that one ring qualifies as an estate, but these people have to buy the jewelry from someone, why not buy a diamond ring from me?
So, that’s going on the to-do list, and ASAP. I have rent to pay again in a few weeks, and a vacation coming up, for which I am as broke as I was in college. You know that broke? The one where you can’t even go to the ATM because you don’t even have $20 left in your account to be able to make a withdrawal? I’m about there.
As I was thinking about this business transaction prompted by financial need, I found myself looking starting to put this post together and looked at the calendar. And the irony was, and I’m a big fan of irony, I realized that I was supposed to be getting married this month. This weekend as a matter of fact. Saturday, March 12, 2005 was supposed to be the big day. The date was chosen because it would have almost been the 2-year anniversary of our first date, which was March 13, 2003.
That made me pause for a moment or three. Wow.
If things had gone according to the original plan I would be in another city on the other side of the country preparing to say I do right about now. A few months ago, I was really dreading March 12, 2005. But in the here-and-now, it almost snuck up on me without even noticing.
How did that happen?
I don’t know. But I’m glad it did. I’m glad I’m not in Tennessee. I’m glad March 12 is just another day.
OK, so I’m not glad that my ass is so broke, but it is definitely better to be broke than broken. That I know for sure.
Life
Love
Money
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