The Start of Something 1.15.2007

This is the week, folks. The week of important anniversaries that changed my life. Today is the day that eight years ago I… Well… Let me set the scene.

It was a Monday evening. I was working in downtown San Francisco. This was life before my darling little shop back when I was a small fry in a huge international corporation. My job was shaking hands with clients and showing them how to use a computer program (ha! Right? Like I knew how to use a computer program!!!) So really I spent most of my day going to appointments while pretending either to look busy or to know what the hell I was saying.

To relieve all this make believe I went out. A lot. Even on Monday nights. I know my mom is shaking her head right now going “but it was a school night!” It was a school night! Can you believe it? Not literally, because I wasn’t in school. Though it was still literally a school night. Blah, whatever! It was a school night, just not for me. There.

Anyway, back to setting my scene. It was a Monday, afterwork. I probably had changed my outfit. Which is not an important detail but to get the writing juices going I had to let you know. An acquaintance and I hit up some bar on Pine Street, though I had a headache so I briefly considered going home. However, she urged me to tag along with her to meet her friends at another bar, the Cellar. It was a karaoke night! “Margaret does not karaoke,” I’m certain I told her. But I was young, 27! And went anyway. Hangover on Tuesday be damned.

Once there we scooched into a sparkly vinyl booth. I leaned over the table and asked her “Are there going to be any cute single guys?” And she said yes. And guess what? There was! For narrative sake I’ll say he walked in right then. He carried a motorcycle helmet under one arm, wore this big hulking bomber jacket and glasses. Which, as we all know, is the recipe for female catnip. When I found out he was going to sing a song I told him “Margaret does not karaoke but she does dance”, and volunteered to be his back up dancer.

And guess what? That guy is my honey! Cruel man that he is he made me back up dance to the Cranberries “Ode to my Family” (you know how hard it is to dance to that song?!). So today is the 8 year anniversary of that, my first major life change: I now karaoke.

But more importantly it’s the anniversary of the day that I met my honey. I just now went into the bedroom and kissed him and said “I’ve known you for 8 years, honey!”

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Picture of us (me dancing or, rather, posing for the camera, and him singing the Cranberries) from that very first night. This picture, my friends? It is a bona fide film photo. As in not digital. Woh! Blows your mind, right? And I still have this dress though Bandit ate the boots at some point. Anyway, Aaron and I were pretty hot and heavy right out of the gates; a date almost every night of the week! And I’m going to tell you all about them! Because they were full of firsts.

To be cont…

1.15.2007 bangles: my blue Hermès Cape Cod watch, and skinny Orange Clic-Clac
Today’s jewelry are all the ones from my honey:
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Hermès Collier de Chien from this Christmas, Hermès Astrologie from last Christmas, Tiffany’s pearl bracelet from my 30th birthday, Jawbone UP from last birthday (35), rose gold wedding band, engagement ring, rose gold Tiffany earrings from a birthday (33?), and pink pearl necklace he won at an auction. Last is our anniversary ring with Leroy’s head, my honey adds a stone at each anniversary. The colors are for the married years.

I just realized maybe I’ve never before revealed my husband’s name. It’s Aaron, but I’ll probably continue to call him honey. Because that is how I do it!

9.9.14 Poils!

Poils is my best Pop-eye imitation of pearls. Today I went all over pearls. Bracelets, necklaces, okay that’s it. But still! Quand même! I got pearls galore. On my wrist is an heirloom goldfish (apparently my autocorrect does not approve of goldish) bracelet, my 30th bday pearls from my honey, and my Cartier tank française from my mom. On my neck I have my pink pearls, more gold heirlooms, and another from the family blue lapis bead and pearl piece.

In 2007 I was wearing this blue and pearl necklace when I was run over by a truck, they cut it off me along with my clothes and scarf, and I figured it was gone. But the paramedics gave it and my other belongings to my dad who took it to a jeweler in his neighborhood, Hutten Jewelers, and Isabelle restrung it better than new. It’s a survivor necklace. Oh and? I really made an effort to not grimace in today’s selfie. How’d I do? Eh is what I thought as well.

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8.28.14 So late to work

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Pearls and silver!! There’s a fascinating book that I read awhile ago. In Praise of Shadows by Junichiro Tanizaki where he talks about the look and feel of silver. Japanese society prizes the tarnish of silver, apparently. I think of this everytime that I wear silver, especially when the jewelry is not recently polished. Tanizaki talks of the patina, the shadows of the metal, which reflects the age and wear of an item. Maybe even reflects the owner’s love for it. But I don’t know, there’s something so satisfying about polishing silver. Taking a bracelet from gray to sparkling silver. I did not do that today, however. These bracelets are definitely sporting some patina.

Bottom to top: silver cuff from Mexico that my father gave me years ago, the Elsa Peretti pearl bracelet my honey gave me for my 30th and swears that I never wear (It’s so fragile! It’d break my heart to damage it), another Elsa Peretti but a cuff of XOs my dad gave me in the late 90’s, and two delicate cuffs I think Native American in origin but again a gift from my dad.

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Second picture! Stupid selfie, I look so tense probably because I hate taking them but I wanted to show off the pearls. Miles and miles of Gump’s pearls from my dad. I miss him, can you tell? It’s nice to wear the things he gave me, I just wish they were he.