Is That Bling I See?

Sue darling,

I am proud of you! I think you have two very nice choices there! For real!

Well, I mean, the first one reminds me of a ring I wore in sixth grade. Did I ever mention how I hit my social peak in sixth grade? Seriously. On the last day of school, FIVE different boys gave me jewelry! I got three necklaces, a gold (!!!) bracelet (that one was actually from my boyfriend), and a watch-ring. Which I actually loved. How that trend did not take off I have no idea.

Anyway, as fond as I am of those days, your Official Domestic Partner Partnership Ring should not remind me of them.

But! Do my eyes deceive me or did that second one actually have very wee diamonds (but diamonds nonetheless!) in it? Miracle of miracles! You are into (very wee) bling after all! This takes our friendship to a whole new level.

Although - I know. I won't get ahead of myself. You have probably already decided that you hate it. Or found something tackier - I mean, more in line with your taste.

Sigh. Keep me posted. Tiffany, Harry, Fred and I will be here for you.

With labels and love,

DG

Almost Thirty and Still Dirty, Twenty-Seven and in Food Heaven

Sue,

I mean I am not even going to acknowledge the "swallow" comment. That being said, Madonna's level of hotness (which, granted, has been fluctuating due to the A-Rod scandal and ensuing ginormous donation to her charity) is indeed A to the Mazing and nothing you will not be able to attain. IN TWENTY YEARS.

As for the big 3-0, let's try to relax... and focus on my wedding. Shall we? I certainly can think of no better distraction! Am I a good friend or what?

So as you know, my pre-MBA reading and career prep is piling up around me. Thus I decided it is time to get back to my wedding planning. Yes - before you ask - there is still no rock in sight... but that will not deter me from planning my fabulous future nuptials!

In fact, I have news: we booked a caterer! Big Wedding Decision Number Two - well, technically, Number Three - can be struck from the list! We have the Location of Dreams, and now we have the Caterer of Dreams.

As you may recall, I had been fluctuating, much like Madonna's hotness, between two companies. Ever the only child that I am, I (we) basically chose the caterer who gave me (um, us) the most attention. And I'm not afraid to admit it! Plus, the chosen ones are also willing to serve a "local delicacy" (read: cheap-o Chinese noodles from a strip mall restaurant that taste surprisingly good if you add enough vinegar) requested by The Lawyer and didn't turn down their noses at our somewhat simplistic menu ideas. They just called our taste "Americana." Genius! Bring on the mac 'n cheese balls!

Please do not take advantage of the easy pun here. No one needs to hear more about how I will be serving balls at my wedding.

More plans to come!

Love,

DG

5 Reasons to Marry Michael Phelps

Sue,

You and I may be happily off the market, but for all the Domestic Divas and Domestic Bachelorettes oozing fabulosity out there in the blogosphere, I have a proposition. Nay, a plea.

Please, please, one of you - find, date, and marry Michael Phelps!

Watching the Beijing Olympics has been inspiring and moving on many levels. Perhaps chief among them is witnessing the Olympic idol that is Michael Phelps, and daydreaming about eating Nutella off his torso.

Sigh.

Ok, so his ears stick out a bit and apparently he's a little awkward on land due to his innate fishiness, but here are the five reasons that he is super dreamy Olympic husband material:

5. Considering his penchant for gold medals, he clearly appreciates bling. Bodes well for an engagement ring, wedding band, and assorted anniversary gifts, no?

4. And hello endorsements! This guy will be rollin' in the dough after these Olympics. Snag him now, so he'll know to put some of that money away for your Ring of Dreams. And what a ring it will be! (See reason 5 above.)

3. How cute is he with his mom and sisters in the stands? Beware of his mama's boy potential, of course, but he clearly appreciates fabulous women.

2. One (aforementioned) word: torso.

and the Number One reason to marry Michael Phleps:

1. He is the greatest swimmer and Olympian of all time, and truly seems like a nice guy to boot. Need I say more?

Get on it, ladies! And please keep us posted on the conquest. I'll supply the Nutella.

xoxo,

Jen

Show Me the Blingy

Sue darling,

It has been an historic day. Well, not actually all that historic, since the BF and I browsed rings in the States at Tiffany before we moved, but how I love typing “an historic” and also, today was no slouch of a day, either!

In true Lady of Leisure style, I sashayed and shanteyed (wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve quoted RuPaul – I am showing my age) up, around, over, and through Hatton Garden, London’s blingtacular diamond district. How fabulously civilized it was! There were no skeevy men trying to woo you into their stores like they do in NYC – and I mean, does that ever work? Ew. And the three salespeople with whom I worked were all totally friendly and helpful. If only their rings were a little nicer… alas, I am still lusting after a Tiffany diamond, as the BF and his bank account will no doubt be thrilled to hear.

[That being said, it’s his own fault. He is the one that suggested we take a spin through Tiffany on that glorious day back in January. I mean what did he expect?]

Even if I did not find the Ring of Dreams today, my delicious journey was educational and eye-opening. I learned a lot about the ring fabrication process, and about diamonds themselves. Or, rather, how effing expensive they are. One moment that was positively surreal witnessed me balancing two diamonds in my finger cleavage (you know, if you straighten your fingers and then smush them together) to compare their size and color. These were not huge stones, mind you – one was 1 carat, the other was about 1.5 carats – but there I was, with $40,000 worth of diamonds sitting in my finger cleave. It was mayjah.

To be perfectly honest, I am just trying to bask in the glory of my truly leisurely and fabulous day and not freak out about how INCREDIBLY FRICKING RIDICULOUSLY OVERPRICED these things are. I have accepted that I am a total sucker for this tradition of ye olde diamond engagement ring, and I must suffer the consequences (guilt, guilt, and more guilt) in the knowledge that it will be worth it to have my Ring of Dreams on my finger as a symbol of our love and a future family heirloom. TG the BF loves me enough to support all this. Well, or at least he does now. I cannot speak for when he learns that my heart does, indeed, belong to Tiffany after all…

How about you? Are you even considering getting some sort of ring at this point? Don’t let me down, sista!

Xoxo

Your DG

P.S. Off to galavant with the BF around Italy! Back soon! Ciao!

P.P.S. And don't think the joy of being able to take vacation whenever I want is lost on your favorite Lady of Leisure...

When Harry Met Jenny

W,

Well thank you for the pick-me-up (post-me-up?), you fabulous Domestic Partner you. As easily as you scandalize me – still! After all these years! – I have to say that creating a menu via Naked Twister is rather genius. I think you need to patent that.

Your kind words are the icing on the wedding cake, as I am feeling waaaaaaay better than I was the other day. And I’m sure it has nothing to do with the candid heart-to-heart convo the BF and I had about money and the wedding and EVERYTHING to do with Lauren “Devil Wears Prada” Weisberger’s fabulous new novel, released just in time for summer: Chasing Harry Winston.

And yes, I had to include both the US and UK covers (I read the UK version) because aren’t they too fabulous for words? How can you not drool over that bling and those stilettos?

Anyway, reading this book at this point in my life was like a shot of Nutella to the heart – invigorating, comforting, satiating. The book oozes fabulosity and girliness, but I think you might even like it! Seriously! Because these girls have issues! Like, realistic ones. And they deal with them, but not without a little pain along the way to the happy but not wholly predictable ending. I don’t want to drop any spoilers, so I won’t say much more except – sigh. Yes, that was the mellowed, happy sigh of someone who’s just delighting in being a girl again, instead of stressing at every twist and turn.

Not to mention that all this talk of jewelry has me hankering for a trip to Hatton Garden, London’s Diamond District – or, as these oft-tending-towards-verbose Brits call it, London’s Jewelry Quarter and UK Diamond Centre. You know, just to browse. And the BF even approves! He says he needs more input (read: decisiveness) regarding my Ring of Dreams, so I will be making a trip ASAP. Stay tuned… I know you’ll have your barf bucket in hand, but just try to appreciate this for the educational value, won’t you?

Ever yours,
DG