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.
The Shop-over
I think I must be one of the world's worst shoppers. Right after my mum. My mum is a salesman's dream - if he says flattering things about his product my mother is putty in his hand. This is how my family has ended up with a pinkish tent, a pair of cross country skis, a Toyota CRV, and even a townhouse. I kid you not - I once got a call from my mum sounding all sheepish:
Mum: So today I went shopping
Stella: Oh yeah?
Mum: 'shy giggle' Yup
Stella: Oh god, what did you buy?
Mum: A house!
Seriously, who buys a house on a whim? The realtor convinced my mum that this was a dream home for investors and those about to retire - so she used her 'Fuck Off Account' - money she inherited from her father and keeps away from MY father - and put down a payment. I have to admit that it was smart buy - it is in Calgary and it is beautiful and it's price has tripled. But still.
Next in the retail idiot line is myself. I love to shop (what girl doesn't) but I really shouldn't as much as I do. Hello! I'm an actress/writer and things are quiet right now! It isn't so much that I suck at shopping - it is that I suck at saying no. For example, I have this problem asking how much things are, I hate appearing cheap. Which is ridiculous!! When things are in cases (ie pretty rings) I hate asking how much they are because when they say $900 I want to appear as if I have $900 to spend on a ring (not faint with sheer shock). I don't know why. So either I don't ask OR I ask and buy the thing even if I can't afford it!
Same with make-up counters. I walked into the new Holt's the other day, BIG mistake. BIG. It was all shiny and bright - how could I resist? Lead me not into temptation . . . . . but I was already there. At Bobbie Brown. Yikes. All the girls working were pretty and glossy. Could I help it if I wanted to be pretty and glossy too? So before I knew it I was up in a chair having my make-up done by a girl with pink cheeks. And I love having my make up done - it is right up there with massage. And she was putting nice smelling creams on my face that made my skin all dewy and silky. Then she had this blush that made me look fresh out of a walk in the woods, then the eye liner and shadow which made my blue eyes sparkle and before I knew it I had bought it all. ALL! GAHHHHH! And now I have to take it back - because it is Bobbie Brown and wonderful and very expensive. And I need to pay for car insurance. God I hate being grown up. Insurance over make-up, who thought of that stupid idea?
But I can't take it back to my new glossy store here, I feel like a retard. Like one of those women who shops everyday and spends thousands only to return her items the next day - we used to get them all the time in the retail store where I used to work. Luckily I am going to Calgary for Thanksgiving so I can return in there. HA! And I always make up a stupid excuse like: my mum bought me one already, it was a gift for my friend and she hated it, I suddenly lost 20 pounds so it doesn't fit, it didn't go with the pants like I thought it would (they went back too!), etc etc. Oh god, maybe I am that crazy lady??!!!
You know what it is? A shop-over. You know what the basic premise of a hangover is? - well a shop-over is very similar. But instead of your head hurting from wine, it hurts from VISA over-spendatures and moments of weakness in the bra department. You wake up with that sense of 'oh god, what did I do? What did I buy?" and items that seemed so perfect the day before are now just reminders of a weak moment in which you decided you just NEEDED a big purple purse (I returned that too). I hate the shop-over, but it is a really good cure for that shop-need (you know the feeling - when you just NEED to buy something. ANYTHING!) That is it. No more! From now on I vow to only make smart purchases that will not leave me heaving over the toilet or skipping off to other cities to return the items so I don't have to face girls with pink cheeks.
Mum: So today I went shopping
Stella: Oh yeah?
Mum: 'shy giggle' Yup
Stella: Oh god, what did you buy?
Mum: A house!
Seriously, who buys a house on a whim? The realtor convinced my mum that this was a dream home for investors and those about to retire - so she used her 'Fuck Off Account' - money she inherited from her father and keeps away from MY father - and put down a payment. I have to admit that it was smart buy - it is in Calgary and it is beautiful and it's price has tripled. But still.
Next in the retail idiot line is myself. I love to shop (what girl doesn't) but I really shouldn't as much as I do. Hello! I'm an actress/writer and things are quiet right now! It isn't so much that I suck at shopping - it is that I suck at saying no. For example, I have this problem asking how much things are, I hate appearing cheap. Which is ridiculous!! When things are in cases (ie pretty rings) I hate asking how much they are because when they say $900 I want to appear as if I have $900 to spend on a ring (not faint with sheer shock). I don't know why. So either I don't ask OR I ask and buy the thing even if I can't afford it!
Same with make-up counters. I walked into the new Holt's the other day, BIG mistake. BIG. It was all shiny and bright - how could I resist? Lead me not into temptation . . . . . but I was already there. At Bobbie Brown. Yikes. All the girls working were pretty and glossy. Could I help it if I wanted to be pretty and glossy too? So before I knew it I was up in a chair having my make-up done by a girl with pink cheeks. And I love having my make up done - it is right up there with massage. And she was putting nice smelling creams on my face that made my skin all dewy and silky. Then she had this blush that made me look fresh out of a walk in the woods, then the eye liner and shadow which made my blue eyes sparkle and before I knew it I had bought it all. ALL! GAHHHHH! And now I have to take it back - because it is Bobbie Brown and wonderful and very expensive. And I need to pay for car insurance. God I hate being grown up. Insurance over make-up, who thought of that stupid idea?
But I can't take it back to my new glossy store here, I feel like a retard. Like one of those women who shops everyday and spends thousands only to return her items the next day - we used to get them all the time in the retail store where I used to work. Luckily I am going to Calgary for Thanksgiving so I can return in there. HA! And I always make up a stupid excuse like: my mum bought me one already, it was a gift for my friend and she hated it, I suddenly lost 20 pounds so it doesn't fit, it didn't go with the pants like I thought it would (they went back too!), etc etc. Oh god, maybe I am that crazy lady??!!!
You know what it is? A shop-over. You know what the basic premise of a hangover is? - well a shop-over is very similar. But instead of your head hurting from wine, it hurts from VISA over-spendatures and moments of weakness in the bra department. You wake up with that sense of 'oh god, what did I do? What did I buy?" and items that seemed so perfect the day before are now just reminders of a weak moment in which you decided you just NEEDED a big purple purse (I returned that too). I hate the shop-over, but it is a really good cure for that shop-need (you know the feeling - when you just NEED to buy something. ANYTHING!) That is it. No more! From now on I vow to only make smart purchases that will not leave me heaving over the toilet or skipping off to other cities to return the items so I don't have to face girls with pink cheeks.
Being a guest . . .
So I just re-read some of my old entries. YOWZA! I do apparently hate weddings. But deep down, I really don't. If you read the entry below you will see that I enjoyed a wedding last weekend. And I enjoyed the cake (oh, god, I don't remember them cutting it? Did they cut it? They must have because I ate three pieces. It was YUMMO). I even think my boyfriend tried to catch the garter. I danced all night with my friends and it was so much fun. So therefore, I can't hate weddings as much as I think I do.
But I think I really like just being a guest - as long as I know the couple (I don't like being the guest of a guest when I have never met the bride OR groom). If it is a friend, then you get the fun stagette a few weeks before. As a friend, you know that other friends are going. And it is always really nice to hang out with your friends. It is nice seeing them all dressed up and pretty. And I love watching our boys playing with each other and becoming friends. And dancing is always fun. You can't ever go wrong with two-stepping in your bare feet!
Wow - two positive entries. What is wrong with me? Oh - I just realized that around July 19th I started taking my happy pink pills. Clearly they have kicked in :)
But I think I really like just being a guest - as long as I know the couple (I don't like being the guest of a guest when I have never met the bride OR groom). If it is a friend, then you get the fun stagette a few weeks before. As a friend, you know that other friends are going. And it is always really nice to hang out with your friends. It is nice seeing them all dressed up and pretty. And I love watching our boys playing with each other and becoming friends. And dancing is always fun. You can't ever go wrong with two-stepping in your bare feet!
Wow - two positive entries. What is wrong with me? Oh - I just realized that around July 19th I started taking my happy pink pills. Clearly they have kicked in :)
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