Thursday, February 11, 2010

Oh for the love of, how do you know me so well?

I don't wear a lot of jewelry.

Like ever.

I have an assortment of earrings - most picked up by Blind Betsy on her world travels - and those I were irregularly. I have a bauble ring I love because it's red and obnoxiously huge. The gay boys love it and I've found myself "engaged" to one more than once because of it.

But, generally speaking, unless I've got my fancy pants on1 and am going somewhere or doing something special, I forget to put any sparklies on.

However, this afternoon I was surfing Amazon.com2, browsing through books and rekkids and cooking utensils in an effort to spend my Christmas and birthday certificates from the aforementioned Blind Betsy3, and I was surprised when sifting through the occasionally amusing recommendations the website makes for me to find this:

and then this4:

I've never ordered so much as a jump ring from before so how they made recommendations on jewelry for me let alone jewelry I loved, I have no idea. But they so totally got me pegged.

I'm a little freaked out actually.

And so now I ponder...spend the gift dollars on practical things like The North Avenue Irregulars on DVD or sparklies?


1: read girdle

2: Links to my wish list just in case you've ever wondered what a girl like me thinks about buying herself.

3: They were intended to be used toward a food processor. However, the lovely Ms. PJ had an unused food processor she gifted me and so I have dollars to spend on other finely crafted goods.

4: I cannot get that ring added to my wishlist. Bizarre.


Anonymous said...

I vote sparklies!!!!! Especially because you never really indulge in sparklies and it is rare to find jewlery that fits you quite so well as those do. plus I am picturing that necklace with the outfit you wore for your birthday...

zero hour said...

do it
I got a lovely bat necklace the other day.

Anonymous said...

Sparklies would be great. A stretch from a food processor but much more fun and a real treat--you wont be sorry . . .