The Lady of the Rings Duology Begun
Part 1: Entirely Too Much Backstory, Yet Somehow Zero Hot Elves
On a recent jaunt to Pittsburgh (one must eventually heed the steel industry’s siren call), not only did I have a gorgeous albeit brief time, but I also procured a lovely ring. By which I mean I purchased one. If you like it, then you better put a ring on it. Self-acceptance, heard of it?
Plus I was on the road and it was a Sunday, two reliable sources of deep ennui for me.
(Is deep ennui redundant? Is anyone out there experiencing light ennui? If so, maybe eat one gumdrop (TM). That seems like the cure for that.)
(THIS POST BROUGHT TO YOU BY ONE GUMDROP (TM)!!!)
It only takes one rideshare headed toward or away from an airport for me to start asking, nay begging, WHAT IS IT ALL FOR?!
Luckily I’m not the type to pose this question to my driver. And even if I were, I’d ask it in a fun way like, “What’s your favorite soda? Feel free to riff!”
(My favorite soda is one gumdrop (TMI)!!!)
Anyway, maybe this purchase felt extra special because it was the solution to a passing thought I had that went something to the tune of “You deserve a new ring!”
This is one of those quirks I am trying to force as I age—being someone who has beringed fingers plural.
I find “wearing a lot of rings” to be in the same Venn Diagram as “cool aunt” which is also on my vision board. I am trying to enter my Steven Tyler era minus the rock & roll. I don’t know what that means either.
(Did I google “Steven Tyler’s hands” when I was fact-checking this post? Yes. Yes, I did. It’s giving hard-hitting professionalism slash Pulitzer bait.)
Also, as my mother pointed out the last time I saw her, clasping my wrist like an oracle on the clock, “You have veiny hands like me!” So I need some shiny sparkly to further highlight the pure unadulterated crone beaming out of me like the Bat- Signal.
Unfortunately, unlike Stevie T., I’m not the type of person who can naturally flaunt a ton of bodily accoutrements without people shaking me down for answers.
I suddenly become a performance art installation with an interactive element. And so others feel inclined to say something like, “You’re wearing a lot of rings!” (I was wearing THREE the last time this happened. Some would say too many, some would say too few. One man in the corner would say nothing, as is his way.)
And I have no idea how to respond other than “Yes, but luckily none of them mean anything to me! Uh oh, too bad, conversation over!”
(loudly piping up to get things back on track) Voice of God Narrator: Nevertheless, she persisted in scheming toward and obtaining more rings.
So I popped into a vintage boho-arty store to “browse”. I landed on a black opal ring after trying on a slew of them like some sort of fairytale maiden trying to figure out who to marry and then later poison.
I was way too pumped to wear this ring yet. That’s always a whole debate after you buy any sort of wearable item at a brick and mortar store. Do you want to wear it immediately? I never accept.
Especially in the era of online shopping, it is such a treat to sling your fresh prize over your shoulder like a kid who just jammed out all the tokens at Chuck E. Cheese and now is legal guardian to what looks like a giant fluffy tooth? They must have run out of the animal ones.
As I headed back to my AirBnb, I thought, Victory is mine AND it’s a circle so it’s infinite.
Little do I realize things are about to take a twist, and I’m not talking lemon!
TUNE IN NEXT WEEK WHEN ALL GOES SIDEWAYS BUT WITH 100% LESS PAUL GIAMATTI!
***
BRAVE NEW WORD
snipsnap - v. - To suddenly realize that you forgot to take your pill, or wait, maybe you did take it? You really couldn’t say either way! Do you chance it and take another one and see what happens? Or you do possibly forego it and hope for the best? The next 24 hours rests on your answer.
Sample sentence: (during a Zoom meeting) Sorry, I didn’t freeze, I snipsnapped. Can we circle back on this after I roll the dice on my neurocircuitry?