Jewlery Box

Its funny how something as simple as a jewelry box can be so sentimental. There are so many memories and moments shut in one floral box. As I go through them I find that, unintentionally, many have a strong sentimental meaning. As I sit sifting through my tangled mess I come across the earrings I walked up and got my diploma in. I remember the awesome feeling of being done with high school and being able to go on with the next chapter. Then there’s the necklace I made the night I found out who my best friend really was as I slipped beads on the fishing line while we laughed and talked about art class. Ugh then I came across the earrings the boy who turned out to be wrong got me. Man they are cool but filled with evil memories! Next I spy the little plastic hearts I wore when I went to Magic Kingdom for the first time. I remember waiting in line to get on Space Mountain nervous as can be, with my friends reassuring me that I would survive. Oh boy, now the summer earrings I was forced to remove in order to continue working in the stupid deli. The next one’s I can’t get myself to wear because they are from a friend who broke my heart as she left without saying goodbye. OHHH now it’s the white gold cross I wanted to be a bike on my 18th birthday. Now I am to the section that I have all of my mom’s old jewelry in. I remember watching her as a little girl getting ready for work slowly applying her make-up then spritzing the same perfume on her wrists and at her neck. Under her perfume scented jewels I find the bold broaches from the woman I never got to know, the gold hoops I was called fake in, the square hoops, I, in an effort to conform bought…but never wore, the earrings I got from my grandma the last time I saw my grandpa alive, the earrings that always spark conversations about sex with their questionable shape, the earrings I got the first time I realized I had boobs… real boobs, the earrings I wore the night I realized what I wanted to do with my life, oh and the stupid effing necklace I wore on a night that was supposed to be a wonderful moment in my high school history…but ended up being…lonely. Its weird thinking how something inanimate can spark such emotion. These are really descriptive things…remembering emotions and smells, the moment I was in.

At first I thought organizing my jewelry box was going to be proof of how much I am addicted to shopping but instead I am finding it to be an emotional experience as I tuck each memory away with the jewelry.