Jewelry Box

     It’s past midnight and I can’t sleep.  I’m also too tired to write anything substantial. 

     I went through my jewelry today, which I haven’t done in a few years.  I made an inventory, cleaned all the good stuff, polished the silver, and gave away the pieces I do not or will not wear.  

      These are some of the things from my jewelry box:

      Buffalo nickles that I’ve had since I was a child.  I don’t care about coins, but I like these:

Buffalo Nickles

         This lovely silver spoon was inexplicably given to me as I was leaving his apartment by my former client, Mr. Crush, aka Sad Divorced Dad, our favorite follower of postmodern poetry and fan of David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest (you can read about Mr. Crush here1, here2, and here3).  Probably the most lonely and emotionally needy client I had in the last year.  Three sessions was all I could handle.  Too bad, because he has a very prestigious job in publishing and he repeatedly offered his assistance.  Alas, it came with too many strings.  Fucking him and being a fun date once a week would have been fine, but the guy was a hurt, needy black hole with boundaries issues. 

          He gave me the spoon on a whim, for no apparent reason.   I was standing at the door with my gear bag over my shoulder when he ran into his kitchen and came out with the spoon.  He said it was family silverware.  It has his initials on the back of the handle.

         “Uh, are you sure you want to break up a set?” I asked, confused.

         He cocked his head to the side: “Well, it’s not the only set, of course.”

          Okay, well.  

          I kept it because it’s pretty, but I don’t know what to do with it.  I guess I could eat with it, but it seems too fancy to eat with.

Mr. Crush’s spoon
        
          My best pair of earrings.  The photo doesn’t do em justice.  The sapphires are a carat each.  I have the opportunity to wear them maybe three times a year.  I almost sold them for cash when I was in danger of losing my lease two summers ago (the summer where I ended up in the strip club, remember that?), but jewelry has very low resell value, so I kept them, and I’m glad that I did.

          Last time I wore them was when Fortinbras took me to Lincoln Center.  I expect that they’ll be sitting in my jewelry box for a very, very long spell. 

Sapphire Earrings
       I got these in Telluride, Colorado.  Love the mountains.  These are very small, so I can wear them with everything.

Telluride Earrings
      
         Detail of the bracelet the Surgeon gave me.   The more visible and conventional partner of the tattoo he put on my ass. The clasp was soldered and I had to go to a goldmith repair place to get it cut off my wrist.  I wore this thing for years.  

Don’t Forget
        This is a picture of the nice black kitty cat who lived in the Deli across the street from my East Village apartment.  His name is Timmy.   Timmy always napped by the newspaper rack, or even on top of the papers.  

 

I miss Timmy.


      This is the money I made on my last shift at the Studio.  I went out with a bang. 

Take it and run.


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