The first time I went to Hawaii a billion years ago, I fell in love with jade bracelets--especially the lavender kind--and I promised myself I would buy one some day. Which I did a few years ago when Q and I were in Chinatown. It was exciting. The fulfillment of a big old jewelry dream. And I didn't mind paying good money for it. LOTS of good money.
Well. After a short time it became quite clear that my bracelet might not really be jade after all. It's discolored now--milky gray instead of lavender. You can see seams in it, too--like someone patched the whole thing together.
So yeah. I pretty much got taken for a Chinatown ride. An expensive Chinatown ride.
For awhile I put the bracelet away because I was so disappointed and maybe even a little embarrassed for being so stupid, jade-wise. But lately I've pulled it out and started wearing it again, mostly because it IS imperfect. That misrepresented bracelet reminds me that life is, in fact, often disappointing. But it also reminds me of that wonderful windy sun-drenched day I spent with Q--he of the flowing locks who looked exactly like Tim Lincecum whenever he put on his Giants hat.