In a moment of girly weakness I found myself seated at a jewelry counter with my mother and sister. We gazed hungrily down at the rows of engagement rings shining like the crown of jesus himself. I asked the woman to pull first one then another diamond from the case. I slid a 1.5 karat marquis cut diamond onto my finger and held it up to show my mother.
"It's on the wrong hand!" She shreiked.
I looked down and thought, "Who cares."
"The left hand rocks the cradle while the right hand rules the world," I said.
The market sells roses for 50 cents a piece and I buy myself fresh flowers every few weeks. At first I thought, "I'll show mr. Onion, I'll buy MYSELF flowers." but what was originally a ploy to shame my boyfriend became a practice in self indulgence. The fact is, I like having fresh flowers in the house, so why not treat myself to them? Why do I have to wait around for Mr. Onion to be in the doghouse before I can get some blooms?
Likewise, if a woman likes diamonds, why does she have to wait for a man to buy it for her? It seems to me that if women wait for men to indulge them they may never be fullfilled. Its like the woman who believes the man is in charge of giving her an orgasm. Most of the time she ends up pulling a when Harry met Sally so she can catch her beauty sleep.
I wanted to tell my mother right then and there, wether it's flowers, rings, or orgasms I'm alright giving them to myself and in the end I can't help but feel like that little fact makes me a better candidate for gifting ( lest someone think I would be an unwilling recipient of any of the above).