I heard this commercial on the radio the other day, and was astounded by its ridiculousness: it was a conversation that contained the phrase “A diamond that says who you are to each other without saying a word.”

What?  Jack is a man of few words, but neither he nor I would never think a diamond could convey anything at all about what we are to each other:  lovers (in every sense),  best friends, confidants.  He knows me better than I know myself.  We trust each other implicitly.  Diamonds?  What do they say- “I paid some huge amount of money for very poor people in Africa to risk their lives to find you a tiny thing that looks vaguely like broken glass, and that you could easily lose in a public restroom if you bother to wash your hands after using the toilet?”

In fact, I got this email after I tried to help find a coworker’s briefly lost engagement albatross:

  “I promptly found it the same day, but appreciate the look out. I probably would be dead at my husband’s hand if I actually had truly lost it.”  Really?  Dead, huh?  I wrote back: “That is the definition of irony.”  Which it is.  An expression of love, now?  I just don’t see it.  I never got an engagement ring.  I didn’t want one.  Eleven years later, I don’t regret not having one, either.  Ask me again in another eleven years.  The answer will be the same.

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