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Sunday, February 01, 2009

Some advice.

Here it is: Ladies, when posing for an engagement or wedding photo, do not place your hand in an awkward position just so your ring is in the picture. It looks silly and robs you of that moment where you get to extend your bejeweled hand to friends and hear, all together now,


I will be forever thankful to my husband for understanding the importance of that moment. We were engaged for a mere two weeks before our wedding. For the first week of our engagement, I remained ringless, which didn't faze me in the least, as I hadn't expected one. In fact, I spent the week in giddy anticipation because, much to my surprise, my husband announced after proposing,

"Sorry I don't have your ring. I took the diamond to the jewelry store and they said it takes a week to stick it on a ring. I thought they could do it while I waited." Although I might have anticipated future frustration with my future husband's complete cluelessness around jewelry, I was too excited,


"Well, don't plan on making a whole salad. It's only a quarter carat."

"SQUEEEEEEE!" This was meaningless to me. What did I care? A ring!

One week later, he arrived with the ring, which seemed enormous to my untrained eye. I didn't want to say anything, but gave silent thanks it was only a quarter carat, as a rock four times the size would have looked stupid with my Doc Marten's. Turns out he was joking; my new sparkly thing weighed in at a carat and change, respectable enough but hardly obscene. I love it because my sister-in-law has a similar diamond - they were TF's grandmother's earrings - and she's the coolest person in my husband's family, like a sister. She holds our marriage together, because a divorce would make our friendship awkward.

Squealing, I slipped the ring on my grubby finger and prepared to spend the evening ogling it while eating chips in my pajamas. I was exhausted. But my husband-to-be, Bestower of the Sparkly Thing, had other plans. I wanted to be left alone with my ring. He wanted to go out. I tried to beg off, explaining we'd be married the following weekend and he could boss me around then*. He persisted.

"This is the last night we'll be in town before the wedding. Don't you want to go to the Hunter Gatherer** and show off your ring for one night?"

Irresistable. And it hadn't crossed my juvenile mind. Moments like that prove every relationship needs a more mature partner. I was twenty-four and didn't actually know anyone other than old folks who had been engaged. The Bestower of the SparklyThing had rented the groomsman's tuxedo a time or three. Ergo, we headed to the bar.


Ladies, you owe it to yourselves and you owe it to all Bestowers of Sparkly Things. Your Bestower should enjoy a moment too, when your friends turn and tell him what a nice job he did. Do not display that thing in your engagement picture. Do not frame a picture of your posed hand, ring featured prominently. Without heavy-duty Photoshopping, your hand is going to look hairier than you want anyway. Resist! Resist! Don't deny the "SQUEEEEEEE!" Besides, displaying a photo is showing off. Extending your hand - well-manicured in anticipation of course - at someone's request is only the polite thing to do, n'est-ce pas?

And don't take a hand/ring picture for posterity, either. Years after your wedding, you can legitimately flash the ring. Let's say you've retained a smidgen or more of the youthful glow you rocked before the sparkly thing. You are in a bar with friends, because you know married people don't have to spend every moment together. Maybe some guy is chatting with you and he may or may not be interested. You won't know for sure, as this hasn't happened in years. He seems nice enough and you hate to think he's wasting valuable jokes on you, the old married lady. So, although you know putting your hands near your face is at best silly looking and at worst an excellent way to introduce filthy germs into your system, you bring your left hand to your mouth, casually. If he's into you, he's looking at your face. He'll see the ring, a clear signal to chat for one more minute (so you don't think he was only talking to you as a prelude to whatever it is single people do these days) before gracefully excusing himself. I'm not saying this has ever happened to me, but the conversation rarely lasts longer than 45 seconds after the flash of the sparkly thing. The flash is a better device than some freakish announcement from you,

"Son, you know I am a happily married woman!"

He'll probably respond by letting you know he wasn't interested. If you don't make the announcement, you can walk away thinking you've still got it, all embarrassment avoided. And you get to show off the sparkly thing, one more time.

Namasté, y'all!

* Stop laughing. I mean, sometimes he bosses me around. Really!

** Our family bar - then, now and always.


Kirsetin Morello said...

You & you're SQUEEEEs are cracking me up. Long live the honest flash of the ring.

Kirsetin Morello said...
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