I have boldly gone where few women have gone before. I conquered a new frontier: I modified my engagement ring.The ring that Mr F proposed to me with was absolutely gorgeous - I loved it the moment I saw it. Well, ok, actually I loved that I was finally getting a proposal (after three years and a move across the country...woo hoo!). But once I took at look at the super sparkly ring before me (and it was realllllly sparkly - Mr F apparently got a little OCD prior to the proposal and had it professionally cleaned no less than three times before handing it over) - I loved it. The center diamond was pear-shaped, which I adored because it's so unique. And when I found out that it was his grandmother's ring I was head over heels. I loved that I was being entrusted with a (gorgeous) family heirloom. (And if my sweetheart didn't have to shuck out two-, three-, five-month's salary - or whatever DeBeers dictates one should spend on a ring nowadays - even better!)
However.
There was one thing I did not love. The color of the setting (which, by the way, is not an heirloom - just the diamond is). And thus, I'm sorry, but in this instance, I cannot be color blind. I have a dream and it does not involve yellow gold - the color of the setting of my brand new engagement ring. Now while I own a good deal of yellow gold and like it a lot, most of my jewelry is white gold or silver. More importantly, just looking at the ring I knew that it would look so much prettier if it were set in white gold or platinum. I found the yellow gold color distracting from the beauty of the stones. So this was not good.
Understandably, I was a little apprehensive about bringing this up to Mr F since I didn't want him to think I was anything less than thrilled about being engaged and about the ring. So I waited.
For a whole day.
Before I decided I had to tell him.
It's very interesting, the whole engagement ring phenomenon. Although the ring - this very expensive investment which is intended to be worn [calculating...sum reached] = until you die, it is something that the proposee (often) has no say in. Moreover, it is also something that becomes a reflection of you (the proposee and wearer of said ring), rather than a reflection of your fiance (proposer and later (hopefully) husband). No one sees a woman wearing an ugly ring and thinks "oh, her fiance has terrible taste." They think "That woman does not have good taste." Which is why I needed to tell him.
(Note: without this change, my ring was not ugly - it was still fabulous; I just obsess because I wanted this to be PERFECT if I was going to wear it consistently for 50 years, give or take.)
And so I casually (and by casually, I mean I planned what I was going to say for hours) mentioned this to him when we were out having celebratory drinks the next day. (On a totally unrelated note I have to admit that day was so much fun and something I had not anticipated about getting engaged...the 24-hour long celebration following the proposal, when it seemed overwhelmingly appropriate to scream at everyone we passed on the street - "we just got engaged!" and a champagne toast seemed to be the just the right complement to our shared glee for breakfast, lunch and dinner). Anyway, during that celebration, I casually mentioned to him 'how much I LOVED the ring, but I was slightly concerned that it was yellow gold since I didn't wear a lot of yellow gold...soooooooo, would it be a problem to change it...?'
dum dum dum dum dum dumdumdudududududud...[sound of my heart beating faster as I waited for Mr F to get mad or upset about the fact that the woman that he was marrying was so...well, superficial.]
"Of course - change it. I just want you to love it since you will be wearing it every day for the rest of our lives."
YES! He actually understood! The man who thought it was a-ok to sport jeans with holes in inappropriate places and who continued to wear, with disturbing regularity, a J Crew rollneck sweater dating back to 1993, actually understood why I wanted the ring to be perfect. Honestly, forget the grilled cheese with the face of Jesus, this was a goddamn miracle. [Dancing the happy dance around the streets of Del Ray beach, much to Mr F's amusement.] Mr F was two-for-two on our Florida trip. (Lest we forget, number one being that he proposed.)
Fast forward six months. Er, actually eight months. I know that the following makes me sound like I'm about 68 years old...but holy metamucil, where does the time go?
I still haven't changed the ring.
Why, pray tell? Because I am petrified that I will drop the ring off at some jewelry store to get it switched to white gold and they will lose it, misplace it, maim it, the store will burn down, giant flying monkeys will swoop in and eat it...you get the picture. And while these scenarios may seem a little, let's face it - excessive - because the ring is insured, that does not allay my fears. Because my favorite part of the ring is now also my biggest burden: I have been entrusted with Mr F's family heirloom and I am completely freaked out that I will be the one to lose it.
But it's only been passed down through like three generations, so it's no biggie, right? If it's just lost, we can always buy another one, right? Or not.
So I began a multi-state hunt for a place that would change the ring on the day that I dropped it off (so no ring sleepovers at the jewelry store) and, just as importantly, allow me to watch the jeweler do the work. You can imagine that this perhaps might not be the easiest task? It involved a lot of calls that went like this:
"Hi, I would like to have my ring changed from yellow gold to white gold."
"OK, we can do that."
"Great! I was wondering if you could get that done the same day that I drop it off."
"Uhm...well that would be very hard."
"AND...I would like to make sure the ring NEVER LEAVES MY SIGHT. Ever."
"Yeah, we're not going to be able to do that. Toodles, crazy pants."
I had that conversation, oh about, twenty times. OK, except for the last sentence. But you get the gist.
Until finally, my moment of great glory: like Galileo, Christopher Columbus, Neil Armstrong and so many others before me, I made a great discovery. I found...The Best Jewelry Store Ever. Even if it was an hour ride away. But lo and behold, they were good for their word (even if I had to sit and wait for a few hours until they got to my piece of jewelry). When it was my turn, I sat and watched through a glass wall (much like the "observing room" for doctors during surgery (or what I assume it would be like, since I've only seen it on "Grey's Anatomy") or the "one-sided glass" in police stations - ditto with respect to "Law & Order"), as they performed a minor operation on my ring.
And then they came around from behind the glass and handed it over to me.
It is the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. Perfect. And in fact, it's like getting engaged all over again, because as I walked to my car that day I stared at my hand (much like I first did eight months ago). And then as I drove the car, I looked down far too frequently (mercifully avoiding any traffic accidents) to see how my ring looked while driving. It looked perfect! And then I looked in the mirror at my reflection to see how the ring looked as I was washing up for bed.
And it looked perfect.
