The Ring

Okay, I admit it. I am a coveter. There I said it. I - AM -A - COVETER. Of what? Oh god, the truth will set me free, the truth will set me free . . . . . I covet . . . I can hardly admit this let alone write it . . . . rings. Phew! There. Done. Oh wait. What kind of rings? Diamond rings. Are you happy? No? Okay, fine. I covet diamond engagement rings. GAH! Double GAH! Who am I? Crap, I can't help it. I love the goddamn freaking shiny rings worn on the ring finger of the left hand. I suppose I would love any diamond ring on any finger of either hand. But there is something about that damn solitaire on that damn ring finger. It says: I have a lover. I have stability (well we hope). I have a man who buys me pretty things. Shut up all of you feminist females out there!!! I am sure if I polled the Western world most women would admit that it is very nice to sport a shiny diamond that they got for FREE!!! FREE! That is the best thing about diamond engagements rings! We don't have to pay for them!!

I never used to care about diamonds until my first trip to Rodeo Drive when I was 21. On the corner of Rodeo and Wiltshire stands a three-storey Tiffany's. Being from the farmlands of Canada. I had never been into a Tiffany's - so I had to see what all the fuss was about. And as soon as that doorman/security guard opened the door for me and I stepped into the softly scented room filled with sparkle and glitter I knew my love affair had begun.

So today I may have gone shopping with some girlfriends. And we may have gone into Tiffany's. And I may have tried on a ring. Not my fault! My friend pointed it out to me as being perfect. And it is perfect - it is MY ring. No really, the ring was made for my finger, for my colouring, for my personality. And it isn't a diamond (okay it is encrusted with diamonds but they are small so who counts?) it is a 2.5 carat, PINK Sapphire. Oh god, it is beautiful. And the manager practically insisted I try it on (I screamed at it, I think he felt I should). And as priorly mentioned - I am a retard shopper who pretends I can afford the crazy price tags of things in cases. So when I saw the price of $33 000, I hardly blinked an eye. I mean the ring was soooooooo me. I have to have one (or a fake one very much like it). I think the manager thought that the Engineer makes enough money to buy me a $33 000 ring because he gave me his personal business card. I have NO idea where he got that idea.

My girlfriends supported me 100% in my love and need for the ring (okay, maybe not so much for the price tag) so what else is a girl to do but tell her Engineer? He was in the shower. The conversation went like this:
Stella: I love you
Engineer: Aww babe, I love you too
Stella: No, I really really love you
Engineer: What did you do?
Stella: I didn't do anything. (pause) not really

I won't tell you the end of that conversation. I think it ended somewhere between 'pressure' and 'don't drink wine while you are pregnant with my baby who is going to have cancer at the age of six'. All I know is that things got fuzzy and I don't have a pink ring. yet.