Flaws are Fabulous

I had an exciting day today. Firstly, working for the city is great because we get just about every single holiday there is. This week, I had election day off and today as well, for the observed day of veteran's day. I thought I would get to sit around in my underwear and watch tv all day but my sweet pea had other plans.

Today I went to a gem laboratory. To get our diamond certified and appraised. It was so freaking cool! The guy I had the appointment with, a Gemologist (even typing that is cool), even showed me how to work this ENORMOUS microscope so that I could see my diamond for myself, under a bazillion magnification. Seriously. It was pretty cool.

The coolest thing, I think, is that inside my diamond there's a crystal that contains a garnet. You can't see it at all by just looking at it, or even with a simple magnifying glass, but under the jeweler's doohickey it is totally there. Its a unique thing that is rather rare, but does not decrease the value of the diamond. I happen to find it very cool. Mostly because my grandmother's favorite stone was the garnet and I have inherited a lot of her garnet jewelry. I think its a special connection, especially since the diamond is the one that my father, who died eight and a half years ago, gave to my mother when they became engaged way back in 1967. Its like this was the one meant for me, and here it is, mine, but also my father's, my mother's and my grandma's.

Aw.

Anyhoo, so yes. I have a diamond. My mom gave to Mike and I for our engagement ring. So, yes, I know we are getting engaged, I have known for a while, but the fact that we're not is still a big deal for me. Its like I can't see past my own nose far enough to tell that there is indeed a future out there for me, and that future, very soon, will certainly include a marriage proposal from the man I would very much like to marry. Its frustrating. I'm trying the whole Be Here Now stuff, and sometimes it works for me and sometimes it doesn't. These days it seems like nothing works.

Interestingly, I just finished reading a book by Elizabeth Wurtzel, the famed depressive author of Prozac Nation. The book I read is about her subsequent struggle with drug addiction, More Now, Again. I was frighteningly fascinated to see that her experience with addiction is not all that dissimilar from my experience with panic and anxiety. It turns out we're all the same, after all.