It Once Was Lost, But Now Is Found

If there was some kind of cosmic test last night, I think I passed. **Looking around for any signs from God that I'm wrong on this one... not finding any. Okay. Whew!** My much-loved girlfriend returned home to report, with a touch of fear, that she had lost the emerald pendant/necklace thing I'd gotten her for our 6-months together. (Note: I don't use the word anniversary when it hasn't been a year. That "Happy three week anniversary!" stuff turns my already-acidic stomach.)

Now, I hadn't been having the greatest weekend at this point. (See previous blogs as to why.) I've generally been feeling like Murphy's Bitch the last 72 hours, and her losing something this valuable, both sentimentally and literally, was another straw. Almost the last one. She had come home expecting me to blow my stack, and I don't blame her. I can be a real prick sometimes. It happens. I looked her in the eye (she already felt terrible about it), and I just sort of... didn't overreact. I realized that losing it entirely would accomplish nothing. I wouldn't feel much better, she'd feel worse, she'd already learned the lesson; and we'd still be one emerald pendant/necklace thing short. "It's just a rock," I told her consolingly, trying to minimize the thing as much as I could.

She thought she'd lost it on her trip to Pittsburg, and already checked the car with no results. I had no hopes of ever seeing the thing again, to curtail disappointment before it had the chance to rear its ugly head.

Now: having recently lost the fruits of the Tuxxer project, I know that there's a lesson in here. I don't like it, but it's there anyway. Who says you have to enjoy your illuminating moments if you don't want to? That which is out of my control is truly out of my control. Fussing over it, fuming, et cetera will not change a damned thing, so why bother blowing your stack over it?

I proceded to take a shower. It was after my ablutions that I found, on the bathroom floor, the delinquent jewelry. The CSI theory du jour: the pendant/necklace thing simply fell off her neck at one point, stayed in her shirt, and remained there until she got home last night and showered, herself. I was pleasantly surprised. I had already resigned myself to never seeing the bloody thing again, and the look on her face when I gave it to her a second time was pretty much the best part of my day.

Not crazy about how we got to that point, but still the best part of my day.

And for the record, I'm still missing my Fisher-Price Blue Bunny Blanket from when I was five. When I lose something, boy howdy does it stay lost. Also on the list, the mysterious Die Hard DVD (vanished like a fart in the wind), the code book for the Universal Remote Control; and my precious, precious childhood. Dig that cat, man, he's real gone...