No names, no names.
Well, my name, but you know me.
Recently I went through one of those bags most of us probably find in some corner of one of our closets, because we put it there. We put it there to hold onto whatever’s in it, while not wanting to see whatever’s in it, maybe forever. But always with this not particularly honest intention to go through that bag and…do something, with whatever’s in it.
What was in my bag was a bunch of odd jewelry items I don’t wear.
I don’t wear a lot of jewelry in any case, not even when I get “dressed up.” For dress-up a pair of earrings does the trick. Rarely do I use anything else. Oh, maybe, sometimes a pin. I have some very nice pins.
The bag contained some pins — some of them pretty ugly and mysterious: where did they come from? I certainly never selected them, although maybe I did. Some earrings I have never worn for one reason or another, and since they are silver, they are deeply tarnished. Just like the silver jewelry I do intend to wear but can’t until I clean them with one of the chemical washes I have stored somewhere in a deep cabinet.
Some beads in there, too. One set I de-strung for some reason or other. One set of turquoise beads had its string broken. I think I want to re-string them, if I find the time or the jewelry store which will do the work for me.
And then there’s this bracelet. It is silver — although untarnished, so maybe it’s not real silver. It is an oval shape. One of its ends fits with a click into a circular receptacle. In the center of it is a deep red smooth stone of some kind. (I was on the verge of Googling “deep red stone” to get a name or two but I’ve decided not to spend any time on Google.)
The bracelet was a gift from an old friend, quite a few years ago.
I have never worn it; I don’t wear bracelets, ever. If I did, I’d wear my mother’s silver Navajo bracelet with a large beautiful turquoise before any other bracelet but I never wear that, either. I don’t like having restrictions on my body, no matter how decorative. So I’ve never worn this (pseudo?) silver bracelet.
Thus, I removed it from the bag thinking, “Maybe I should give it to someone who’ll wear it.” Because it is a pretty bracelet.
I opened it to slip it on my wrist, just to see what it looked like on. But I couldn’t. Why? Because the oval is almost too tight for my wrist.
I am laughing because, although my wrists are not mighty things, the wrists of the friend who gave me the bracelet are very slender.
So I ask you: isn’t this an example of passive-aggression?