all that glitters is gold

A few months ago, I was cleaning out an old box in my parent's house. Along with soccer team pictures, birthday cards and junior high games of MASH (which were quite hilarious, if you must know), I found a small white box, perfectly square, with a silver sticker on top. In silver lettering, the word sparkled back at me: glitz.
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It's Friday. Kates and I are headed up to Foothill Village, our usual TGIF ritual. I've got a ten in my pocket, Alexander Hamilton happy to be amongst a small list of things to purchase from this hip strip mall, just a few minutes walk from my house. Red pen, soccer stickers, pink pad from Gregory's. Katie's list is similar, although I'm sure it includes red nail polish from Robyn Todd. We'd compiled our lists via phone Tuesday night, comparing and contrasting and, most likely, and even though we didn't know it, using the same pen and paper. I do everything Katie does. She is the epitome of cool and I'm determined to garner her girlish 12 year-old coolness. There will be just enough to left over for frozen yogurt, or potato logs, I think to myself as we round the corner near Zion's bank.

We hit up Stevenson's first, working our way backwards, towards Gregory's (the toy store with all the cutesy stationary and the slide at the entrance, which we're really too big for, but we use anyway). But, on the way, like a beacon begging to be perused, is the glitz counter full of all the sterling silver jewelry a 12 year-old girl could ever want. We have to stop. We always stop.

I lean over the jewelry case and tap three times, signaling Katie to come near. These, I say. Tell D to get these. D is my boyfriend, but I wouldn't dare call him that. Instead, I say we're going out. That's what Emily says. Emily is in junior high and her brother is in high school. Going out (I'm pretty sure) is the cool way to say it. Making a mental note of my choice, Katie then waves me over to the other side of the display case to point out the necklace she wants from J. Katie and J are going out, too. It's totally cute - the necklace. (Katie and John are cute, too). I'll tell him about the necklace.

Maybe, just maybe Katie and I will have the guts to call them tonight and tell them to meet us at glitz to convey our deepest jewelry desires. Katie will talk to D and I will talk to J. Usually, we cave. We call and hang up at the first sign of a voice on the other end. I think D's family might have gotten Caller ID. I think it means they can tell if we're calling. At lunch today, Ash said something about dialing *67. It's like free Caller ID. It's totally going to ruin our plan. If all else fails, we can talk to them in person. Yeah, right! That would require days of preparation, pep-talks over the phone, and, if necessary, a sleep-over dry-run. I think we should have the sleep -over, no matter what. I have some new categories to add to MASH slash MASHO.

Delightfully digesting potato logs and with pink pads in our pockets, Katie and I talk about the boys on the way home. J looked so cute today in his Banana Republic t-shirt with the map on the back. And D wore Gramicis, a step up from Umbros, for two days in a row this week.

A few days later, I found a white box with a silver sticker in my desk at school. K got one, too. We both gushed at recess, revealed our glitz gifts, and immediately put them on. I got dolphin earrings, and K got a silver and black necklace. They beat us to the punch! So sneaky. Apparently Dave and the rest of the guys went up to Foothill last weekend, and they all bought something. I put my dolphin earrings on right there on the playground. The dolphin looked like it was going to jump right through my ears. It wasn't the set of earrings I had hoped for, but knowing D had picked them out himself was priceless. With such a momentous occasion, a sleep-over was definitely in order.

That very weekend, Katie and I sat in her newly-remodeled bathroom with the separated sink/shower room, college ruled paper and red pens in hand. (We saved the Gregory's pink paper to write notes to Libbie and Emily and Ash). As any respectable lady would do, we sat for hours composing the perfect thank you notes while trying to keep Taylor out of the bathroom.

The plan was this: We'd arrive early on Monday morning, with just enough time to casually slip our notes into D's and J's desks. I'd utter a silent prayer they won't spill out along with math books and geography assignments. That would be embarrassing, for sure! I'll look inside at the mess that is D's desk and think, And yet, I love him. I'm even wearing my dolphin earrings today to prove it.
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I opened the white box to find a tarnished pair of dolphin earrings. February 14, 1993 was written inside on a pink piece of paper with red pen. I held the earrings and the box in my hands for a few minutes as my mind wandered back to the glitz counter and our Fridays at Foothill. I could almost taste the potato logs. With a tiny bit of sadness, I tossed the box (earrings and all) into the trash can near the desk. Glitz left years ago, as did Stevenson's, but I think you can still get potato logs at Dan's. Kates, let's make a date of it. On Friday, of course!

{image from here}