One of the things I miss most about being married (go ahead and get ready to pass judgement) is wearing my wedding rings. Big fat sparkly diamonds FTW!

I’ve never really equated my rings with my husband. With being married? Yes. Specifically with him? No. Maybe because I picked out the rings (and wrote the check to pay for them every month). Anyway, I miss wearing them and given that resale values are pathetic, it seems like such a waste for them to be sitting in a safety deposit box*. That’s why I’ve been casually browsing rings to get ideas on how I can re-purpose mine.

I figured women did this all the time, but after reading some recent articles about divorce rings I didn’t realize it was such a hot (and polarizing) topic. I don’t feel like it’s celebrating the failure of my marriage or would jeopardize future relationships (My mom suggested using the main diamond in a new setting if I ever remarry, but even I draw the line at reusing diamonds for vows. Plus, I’m going to need something bigger and better.), I just want to be able to wear something beautiful that I paid a lot of money for.

What do you think about divorce rings? If you’re divorced, did you do anything with your rings? And because I can’t resist searching Pinterest for jewelry, what do you think about these rings that I’ve pinned for inspiration?

My rings. Miss you. Love you. xoxo.

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The “divorce ring” that started it all. I actually really like it and I don’t think anyone would know it’s a “divorce ring” unless you went around shouting “OMG MY DIVORCE RING. SEE – A DAGGER IN THE HEART.” Obnoxious.

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I could squirrel away the solitaire and use the smaller stones for a new multi-band ring.

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I could go super funky.

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Or I could have some of the stones set at random in a wide hammered band. This is my favorite idea so far because it doesn’t look bridal and the designer comes highly recommended from a friend.

* Dear potential burglars. Please note that I said these rings are in a safety deposit box and not my apartment. Also note that the resale value of jewelry is hooey. Trust me.

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Since I’m going to eventually have to date again (I’m actually quite looking forward to it if anyone wants to pencil something in – my schedule is open), I’ve been compiling a mental list of things that I’ll be accessing in potential love interests. My mom says I’ll be alone forever if my list gets any longer, to which I say – I have books, a dog, and a blog. I will never be alone.

That doesn’t scream spinster AT ALL.

So, here are my wants, qualifiers, deal breakers, the things I’ve got my eye on:

• How you treat a stranger is important. Especially pregnant woman, waiters/waitresses, children, and old fogies. Actually, how you treat everyone is important.
• If you drive like an asshole, you are an asshole. A giant asshole if you drive a Texas Edition of any vehicle.
• If you’re car is gross, you are gross. You shouldn’t be able to live for a month off of what is in your back seat.
• I’m a homebody. If you’re a social butterfly, it’ll never work out.
• No video games. No exceptions. If I wanted a teenage son, I would have given birth in high school.
• An equal level of education is highly preferred. Being the smart one in a relationship is just as bad as being the stupid one.
• I don’t give smokers the time of day.
• If you think you’re family is weird, God only knows what I’ll say about them on Twitter.
• If you “don’t get” blogging or Twitter, you “don’t get” me.
• Poor grammar and smiley faces in emails. Delete delete delete.
• Not being able to accept responsibility for anything. The moment you say “but it wasn’t my fault,” it probably was.
• Love me, love my dog.
• There’s a height requirement. The taller the better.
• If your legs or arms are smoother than mine, we have a problem. If you shave your armpits, you’re totally creepy.
• You are, presumably, in your 30′s. Why do you have a roommate?
• Inappropriate use of flip flops. Also known as HOLY CHRIST YOUR FEET.

There are so many more, but let’s start with these. What are your deal breakers? Have you ever let one slide?

How often do you buy yourself flowers? They’re one of my indulgences.

Well, one of my many indulgences.

I believe in self-gifting.

Nothing extravagant, just a $4 bouquet of carnations or daisies or mixed flowers from the grocery store. I know this sounds cheesy and corny and kind of out of character for me, but my little bouquets are just enough to make the day feel special and make me stop for a whiff as I walk through the house. I really think we should all take the time and do this more often – treat ourselves to something that we traditionally wait for others to give us, because in the words of @JenKCunningham, we fucking deserve it.

But please, no baby’s breath.

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Wouldn’t it be awesome to have a fund so that people could buy themselves a $4 bouquet every so often? All our internet friends sign up, throw what they can afford in a pot, and once a week we PayPal someone $4 with a note to treat themselves. I’m loving this idea.

I wasn’t looking forward to this morning.

I had an appointment with a lawyer at the county law library to review the completed divorce decree. On the way, the car directly in front of me was weaving back and forth and then misjudged a turn, jumping the curb and smashing into a tree amongst a corner of unruly bushes. Once I got to the courthouse the only available parking space was right next to a sign that said “Travis County Inmate Unloading Area Only” which is always comforting.

Anyway, it was an uncontested divorce, so up until today I’ve waded through the legal jargon and filed out all the paperwork myself, but I wanted someone to review the final forms before I submitted them to the courts. Someone to say yes, you’ve done everything correctly, the judgment looks fair, and the judge will grant your divorce; no, you didn’t screw anything up besides your marriage, your career, and possibly your chance to ever have children.

You know, just to put my mind at ease.

The lawyer was wonderful. She was kind and helpful and made some small changes to ensure the proceedings ran smoothly. She was also a total bully who ushered me off to the courtroom to read my testimony in front of the judge and two dozen strangers as soon as she signed off on the last page.

My name is Corrin Foster.

I filed this suit for divorce from my spouse.

At the time I filed this divorce, I had lived in Texas for at least the last six months and in Travis County for at least ninety days.

Our marriage has become unworkable. There is no reasonable chance that we will get back together.

My spouse and I do not have any minor children, by birth or adoption.

I am not currently pregnant and I did not have children with anyone else during our marriage.

I ask that our property and debts be divided as set forth in the Decree of Divorce.

I believe this division is fair to both me and my spouse.

I respectfully ask the Court to grant my divorce.

I was completely unprepared to finalize the last eight years of my life in under eight minutes, but in some ways it was a relief that I didn’t realize what was happening until I was standing in the courtroom taking an oath. As much as I wanted things to be done and over, I would have held on to that paperwork until the next court date just happy knowing that I could have the final say whenever I wanted, and what good would that have done? Would I really have been any better prepared? I probably would have still gotten chocked up saying out loud that “our marriage has become unworkable.”

But at least I was wearing new shoes for my first day as a single girl.

Good

• I kind of do get paid to read books (I work for a publishing company). More bibliophile musings at Bookfessions.
• Tiny Tower.
• Jeffrey Campbell boots. Or maybe these Madwell biker boots.
• New neighbors who have a dachshund that is a clone of Ollie. They had a bit of a Parent Trap moment when they first saw each other. (The Hayley Mills version. Not the crappy Lindsay Lohan version.)
• Fairy Berries. If only I had a garden.
• Chair Socks. Because there isn’t a dining room set out there that wouldn’t benefit from a little argyle.
• This glitter teaspoon set is so ridiculous that it’s a must-have.

Bad

• These past two weeks have been the pits. The friendliest divorce ever is no longer amicable. I just want it over with.
• Ollie is having anxiety issues and peeing in the house. On his food and water bowls. This is not only bad, it is also gross.

In Between

• I couldn’t pull the trigger on the iPhone switch today. I just couldn’t. I’ll just have to wait 176 days until my upgrade discount and (hopefully) the iPhone 5.
• I had my annual gynecologist appointment this week and the doctor came back into the exam room to verify my age because she didn’t think that I could possibly be 31 years old. I told her to tell that to my ovaries.
• The catastrophic failing of my tomato pie. The recipe looks fabulous, it has rave reviews, but mine was greasy and the crust was undercooked. I had chips and salsa for dinner instead. And I would have had a margarita if it wasn’t Sunday.