But don't feel like I'm going to interlude you into my story for today like I usually do. I'm going to take the shock and awe approach. Because it's Sunday. And I'm well rested thanks to that extra hour of sleep. Yup...I enjoy lacking children. Because I can do what I want, drink when I want (which is usually no earlier than 4:30pm on the weekends), and sleep as long as I want. I just haven't trained Sweet Pea to make coffee yet.
Oh wait...was that an interlude? Shit.
Anyways. I've got to tell you a story. A story of a man...and his filibustering commitment to love. I once met a guy. He was tall. He was in the Navy. And he talked of how much he loved his long-time girlfriend. His next step in life: get married. So he bought a ring.
Okay, joke's on you. This story isn't about me. But were you thinking it was? Because I'm a sneaky bitch on a Sunday night to tell hilariously false tales about glitter, unicorns, and engagement rings. Hahaha...oh my...how sick my humor is. But seriously, keep reading.
Last night I met a guy. Not like "met" a guy...but we were at a 30th birthday party, cocktail in hand - I was warming my cold butt by the fire pit when a conversation started with the fellow fire pit stand-er by-er. Yammer yammer...small talk. He's from somewhere on the East Coast that's not important because it's the East Coast. I'm from the booming state of Oregon where trees, deer, and trout probably outnumber the human race. Blah blah...he has a girlfriend of 4 years who's in Italy. I internally give mad props for those who conquer the long-distance dance. We did it. For a year and a half. And I swear it makes you sane once you remove the distance. There wasn't any awkward move-in phase - it was just "Dude...we live
Dude...Mrs. Wookie...what's with all the tangents tonight...???
I don't know, self. Sorry. Must be one of those kind of days.
Back to the story. Wah wah....continuing small talk...he says he recently called up his girlfriend's dad to ask her blessing. He said he got "permission" but not a "blessing" - so....he's pretty sure his girlfriend's dad loathes him. But he doesn't care. What he does care about...is the $12,000 engagement ring he bought her.
One two zero zero zero dot zero zero.
I didn't know what to say. I can't really condemn the guy with my overbearing belief that DeBeers' success is merely a brilliant marketing campaign. I reigned in my soapbox, I did. I didn't want to blurb out that his ring cost more than my car (true story - a car is just a car to me and I buy non-luxury). I had nothing except, "You know you could go to Fiji for that amount." Fiji...a beautiful place...a nasty price tag.
I met my match. It wasn't even a deer in headlights moment. I was just dumb-founded that someone who spend that
But I don't really want to brush off my soapbox for my theories on relationships (because I haven't had a cocktail yet, nor do I want readership to drop off the face of the Earth, that and everyone is entitled to their opinions and decisions just like this guy). It shouldn't be about dropping mad cash on squished carbon. It should just be about the people. If he wants to sever 5-digits from his bank account, and can afford it, I guess power to him.
I don't know what else to write about this...I could go so many ways. My brain is still speechless with the amount of money he spent. What are your thoughts?
And sorry for the joke. I know it's not April yet. But come on...I'm Mr. Wookie-less while he's TAD and the humor just came to me. I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you. Come by for a cocktail. Because drinking alone is something only...well...Mrs. Wookies do.