Uh oh. Netflix is a part of my life now. I never had it before, but now that I have BASIC cable, I need my Futurama fix. Since Geo has a Netflix account, and what's his is mine basically, I'm stealing his. Cut to: Six episodes of The League later, and I'm a happy, happy girl. This is basically all to explain my short post tonight.
So I'm still adjusting to this whole "engagement" thing. I mean, sure, I super-adapted to the Netflix sharing, but mostly, I'm still figuring it all out. I DID have my first irrational spazz out today, which was...fun.
Remember the ring size debacle of 2012? Well, I got my ring back before my Girls at the Cabin weekend. I was scared that it was TOO small, though, and was freaking out that I'd lose my finger so I kept it off all weekend. After realizing I was being a titch insane, I got over myself and put it back on. And then? AND THEN.
I glanced down at my ring and saw it. EVIDENCE OF A SCAM. There was a small black smear on my otherwise perfectly sparkly Heart of the Ocean. I immediately starting sweating and swearing inside my head. (Sweating in real life, swearing was inside my head.)
Remember that Dateline special a billion years ago? (Don't worry if you don't...you can probably find it on Netflix because Netflix has EVERYTHING.) It was this undercover operation that went into jewelry stores and followed the not-so-shiny behavior that happened behind closed doors. There were people who took one ring from an unsuspecting lady to get sized, and then went in the back room, performed the ol' switcheroo and gave that same unsuspecting lady a totes different stone in her resized ring.
Listen, I have GAZED into my ring for days at a time. Never ONCE was there a black spot on it. I went insane in my head. I quick googled "HOW TO GET PROOF THAT SOME JERKWAD JEWELERS SWITCHED MY RING?" Yes, I googled it in all caps. I was hastily typing an angry letter to the corporate office before my rational brain caught up with my impulsive brain.
I checked out the smudge again. I looked up close, and far away. I closed one eye and then the other. Then I found a pipe cleaner that I inexplicably had at my work desk. I threaded the pipe cleaner onto the smudge. At first nothing happened and I briefly went back to spambombing the jewelry store customer service email.
But then the smudge came off. It was mascara. That's what I get for putting makeup on. And now, back to Netflix. Sorry.