Friday, February 25, 2011

14 Karat PMS

Shortly after my wedding I bent a prong on my wedding ring while I was at work. I totally freaked out thinking I might lose something as sentimental as the diamond my husband used to propose to me. The very next day I went to Venture (Remember Venture stores?) and bought myself a plain gold band for about seventy-five dollars. It didn't take too long before the plain gold band was all scratched up, so I brought it to a jeweler to have them etch a cross-hatch pattern into it to make it look like it was supposed to be all scratched up. I wanted a wedding band I didn't have to worry about.
wedding band.jpg

I don't wear it all the time, but my plain band comes in handy. Not only do I use it for work, but I also wear it when I go for a run, or need to paint the front porch. I think I'd had it for several years before I'd noticed there was some sort of small inscription inside.

It says, "PMS 14K."

I laughed out loud for a full minute. Just imagine some poor guy in a gold wedding ring factory somewhere, inscribing women's rings with the abbreviation "PMS." I don't know if this was someone's idea of a joke or the initials of the manufacturer or some clue about the quality of the gold. One friend, when I told him about it, asked me if the ring ever glowed orange when I put it on, as some form of monthly warning to those around me.

"No. It doesn't," came my indignant reply.

But what a great feature that would be. This way my husband and kids, even the dog, could run from the room before I lost my mind and started a Fourteen Carat hormonal tirade about the dirty laundry left on the dining room floor. (That was Monday. Hormones or not, I was rightly mad. I mean, how far out of your way do you have to go to leave dirty laundry on the floor of the dining room?) It would be even better if I could turn on the feature myself, make the ring glow orange to send my family scattering when I want some alone time. Maybe it could even beam me back to a mothership.

My PMS band is pretty wide (I wanted the message, "I am married," to be loud and clear) and I don't like to sleep with it on. This means when I'm on the road it stays out on the dresser instead of in a jewelry box like at home. This week, I panicked when I though I'd lost it. Apparently my utilitarian, no-worry wedding band has become, almost, as sentimental as the diamond ring I got married in. (I found it under my socks. I get to keep laundry on the dresser.)

It makes sense. This band has been a part of my work life and running life for the past twenty years. It even has a built in joke. It's irreplaceable. Now, if I could only find a way to make it glow orange.

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