The girl with the lost earring

Like most girls, I lose earrings.  There are multiple levels of lost. Sometimes lost just means the missing pair is hiding out in the tangled mess of your jewellery box.  I often leave earrings behind at my girlfriends’ places, who considerately return them to me the next time I see them, or offer to mail them to me. Sometimes lost means you know where it is, but retrieving it might be logistically impossible or not worth it – especially when it’s a tiny gold hoop you were wearing in the second hole in your left ear.  But you end up thinking about that one little earring – you know it’s on the carpet in a corner somewhere and probably has either gotten vacuumed up or hasn’t gone anywhere at all.   Sometimes, earrings just fall out of my ears. 
A few weeks ago, I lost a shiny gold plated, long chandelier earring from Aldo on a street in the Inner Harbor in Baltimore. I never found it again, so I threw away its pair.  They were pretty, but not real gold. I never lose Indian gold earrings. Usually at least 22 karat, they always come equipped with secure, thick, often tortuous screws to keep them clamped on your ear, so sometimes, you can’t even put them on or take them off yourself.  How many times have I said (even at this age) “Mom, I can’t put this earring on!” (insert pouty face while taking the earrings over so she can help you and after some wailing and after some “Let’s try putting on the screws first,” they go in.) 
Just days ago, I got in the car and noticed only one earring of a favorite, costume pair of crystal/silver earrings was on my ear.  A friend of mine from India had gifted them to me.  I looked everywhere for the missing one – under sofa covers, on the carpet, in my handbag.  I even traced my footsteps the day before in the parking garage and my office, including the conference rooms I’d been in. I knew it had fallen away somewhere. My boyfriend swore he saw a silver glint on the pathway that morning, so I figured perhaps I’d lost them there.  He heroically recovered a silver, crystal earring for me: however, it wasn’t mine.  The next afternoon, I found it – the missing earring was on my car seat.  
When you lose an earring, it may surface, it may be lost forever. Or it might be right under your nose – or seat.

2 thoughts on “The girl with the lost earring

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