with this ring, i abscond
This is not what I planned.
In fact, this is the last thing in my mind when I drove away from him at midnight in pain.
It was hidden by my passport and favorite cd at that time, and I was just wondering if my sister would really like to put me away for a while.
But in the days to come when I\'m from L. A.
I admit I dream of selling it to fund my return to New York.
Or buy yourself a very good watch.
Or donate to the women\'s shelter. (
The man came from an occasional aggressive fiancé.
Not recommended. )
In the early morning of Pepsiand-
During the hours of Hershey, I remembered aunt Helen, who pulled my sister and I to one side and hissed at the family dinner, \"go and buy jewelry!
\"We were confused at first.
\"From Mom,\" she turned her eyes in desperation, but continued her campaign.
Sadly, I got a lot of books from my men.
My first two relationships were the highlight of feminists. (
Yeah, I used to be a writer, but gee. )
Later, Beius began the creation of novels and poems, but all this added a lot of homework.
As for my fiancé, the only thing he knows about feminists is the old light --bulb joke. (
Q: How many feminists do it take to screw into the bulb a: It\'s not interesting. )I liked it --
It\'s no surprise, because I told you first.
All his friends have wives dripping with ice.
Once, when his Boring Company was acquired by a bigger, more boring company, he gave me a lovely pearl necklace.
Aunt Helen finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He was in stock when I went to Texas.
\"Where is that ring!
Where is that ring? -\" I hung up.
After all, this shout is an important reason why I struggled in the Bush desert in the first place.
I was sitting in my sister\'s Houston Lane, exhausted from the trip, and I fished out the ring.
I don\'t want--
This is for sure.
I know the rules--
Both my mother and I went to the girls\' school as well as her mother, so I heard that the woman returned the ring when she was unengaged.
I know him and know that he will change his horrible, occasionally charming determination to be known for beating our competitors and for making us first class, right on this ring, I will hide it from him if he has any hints.
He will call my sister, my brother, friends from all over the country.
He will argue with my despised relatives.
He might win.
I locked the ring in the glove box.
He has always had it.
Over the past five years, he has more friends, more invitations, more personality and more money.
To make matters worse, he looks better. As a quasi-serious quasi-
Feminist, I try not to care about these little things.
Upon checking in with him, I co-signed a joint check account in which we entered a fixed equal monthly amount for family expenses-
Normal for groceries and electricity;
And people who are not normal, such as the little guy who came to the car wash on Sunday morning and the pool. (
I like the people in the pool.
I want to know why housewives go with them. )
Our 50-year-old exception
50 split told us.
When I bought the filtered water, he paid the mortgage for his oversized Santa Monica house and paid for our dinner. (
He has an inexplicable morality.
Political stance against water supply. )
The problem came up when I tried to keep up with him ---a first-
World class travelers with 40 designer suits.
A real industry leader.
I would go through greedy cramps and rush to Saks and go home with a $800 wallet and I would have to charge and not use it.
When I finally bought an Armani suit, the price was right ---Christmas sale--
But time is wrong--post-flu.
I will never be so thin again.
It was great to finally have what he wanted.
I drove to New York and found my own beautiful
Bedroom with view.
Got a lawyer so I don\'t have to talk to him anymore. \"Lawyer!
Cried my sister.
\"You never even made a decision between church and synagogue!
\"Yes, but we bought a small apartment together at a crazy moment and I don\'t know how to sell a part of me.
Considering the value of the property at the time, the $5,000 offer did not bother me ---
Until his lawyer began to mention the ring in a letter to my lawyer. My ex-
My fiancé won\'t buy me out until I return the ring.
My lawyer spoke about this very quickly.
In the fall, his lawyer called my lawyer and said it was illegal for a woman to keep her engagement ring if she was not married.
Default. The law! Hell.
I surrendered at once.
But before I took it out of the glove box, my lawyer did some research and said that in California, the engagement ring was an ordinary gift that could be like any gift
I sighed and condemned the sex discrimination code that made women slaves and forced us to return the ring, which only symbolizes parental possession.
The apartment negotiations were still stalled by November and my lawyer hated him so much that I didn\'t have.
I experienced the first real crisis of conscience.
I \'ve left the guy out of the air: even if he never loved me, my midnight exit made him very shameful.
Let him get the ring.
When he used a non
Hostile on the phone, I admit I want to go back.
I believe I began to cry.
I might even say I\'m sorry I didn\'t make it.
Maybe I remember when he met me at the airport gate.
Or how friendly he was to my late mother.
Or the day he finally gave me the ring.
At sunset, he arranged a private tour of Stonehenge.
He\'s not interested in Stonehenge. that\'s for me.
I know what happens next. -
He would never keep a secret. when we went in, the rough old guard at the door dumped him on his arm.
In Salisbury, December, it was cold and rainy, and we walked alone in a mile of stone --
High grade in gray and silver-wasn\'t it --magic.
Then I shine like a diamond on the ring.
We laughed and laughed, and even jumped in the middle of the monster stone like a few children.
It took us all so long to get there in many ways.
On the phone, in the course of our gradual restoration of harmony, he said he did not want the ring, but he did not want me to buckle it up.
The word made me dry my tears.
It reminds me of the huge gap between us and how I pretend it doesn\'t matter, but how important it is every day.
That\'s why I started with half of California\'s apartments.
When my mother died, I continued with gravity faithfully.
Ignoring the fair effort, use the small estate I received to split the down payment for the apartment.
After that, we moved to Europe like a jet.
Spoiled Bonnie and Clyde, especially angry--
I\'m not worth living with you either. -
Jump on and off occasionally and be happy with our absurdity in the pyramid, the Taj Mahal, the National Hotel in Havana.
Our love story is not as good as traveling around the world.
I paid for India, Cuba, London and Texas (
He headed for Cairo)
Although I was a writer who managed to make a living, he was a captain. . . some industry.
Finally, we need a crossroads for our division.
Country moving, lawyer, buy back desk, light fixture, bed.
I used to have these things but I gave them to our cleaners.
Sure, don\'t buckle the ring.
Did he think I would wear it? I sold it first-and-be-damned mode.
Go to hell with Emily Post!
Aunt Helen rules!
My ex finally bought me from Los Angeles. A.
Half value apartment.
It was generous because real estate in Santa Monica has skyrocketed since we bought the place, and I only paid a mortgage.
I pointed out in my diary that this would be the best time to return the ring.
It seems a little vulture to sell-ish.
Keep it, miss it a little-Havisham.
The ring was left in the glove box.
In order to fully disclose, there is a small matter.
I\'m in my 30 s.
My chance to get the South African chip is roughly the terrorist bomb that landed in my apartment.
This is not thinking about my 10 trillion chance to get a second glimpse of a ring like this. (
In fact, two planes hijacked by terrorists crashed in half.
It\'s only a mile from my apartment in last September, but I don\'t know what this has to do with my chances. )
Shouldn\'t I profit from this anomaly? I shouldn\'t have a great piece of jewelry and of course I can pass it on to my niece and I don\'t know how much this thing is worth
So recently I took the ring out of the glove box and took it to a diamond dealer. An old friend --
A long time ago, Christmas introduced me to Merlin Stone\'s \"when God is a woman--
He knows the whole dirty story.
In his shop, I handed it over to him at the mock ceremony.
\"Well,\" he pulled out his blinds cheerfully.
\"Although I can\'t believe he gave such a small stone to an adult woman, the quality is very good.
\"The standards of jewelers are not the world\'s, dear ones. \" (
No one can make me sad-
I\'m a woman with jewelry. )\"Hrrmph.
He lowered the fluorescent lamp and leaned against the loot.
I started making plans: half of the Visa bill and the other half of the ruby ring.
Or the Poetry Foundation. -
That would surprise him.
At last my friend looked up.
I hold my breath and wait for the magic number, \"You know what you should do with it . \".
He slid it over the table.
Take it to the Post Office.
\"I think I will call eBay.