Don’t be fooled by the rocks that I got… Well, no, in fact I don’t own much ice. No meteor-sized studs in my ears that would be visible from Mars like Oprah’s (I don’t even have my ears pierced.) No massive tennis bracelet weighing down my wrist and perpetually catching sunlight. And no ginormous 6.1-carat pink cube on my finger that would make me constantly touch my face, knowing that everyone within my zip code would see it. But not having massive bling keeps my life pretty simple—no blood diamonds to fret over; no need for a safe deposit box, extra insurance, or body guard; no wishing I were Callista Gingrich.

Most of my real (i.e. non-costume) jewelry is small and modest. Most were also gifts. Behold three of my favorites: a heart-shaped pendant that I received on Valentine’s Day, a turtle (symbolizing longevity) with tiny ruby eyes from my aunt, and a necklace that my late father had originally bought for my mom.

Small carats, big sentiments

Jewelry has been on my mind lately because today is my four-year anniversary with my boyfriend Andrew. I asked for—and received—two decidedly more practical presents: a flat-bed Canon scanner so I can happily scan images for this blog and the new book “Those Guys Have All the Fun: Inside the World of ESPN” that I’ve been dying to read (I’m a huge sports fan, remember?). He also threw in a big box of Jujubes. I was delighted!

Jujubes! A good source of sugar and food coloring!

Lest you think I’m not romantic at all, we went out for a lovely dinner last night (grilled Scottish salmon, lobster fricassée). On the way, we passed a random, kitschy Asian store and liked the juxtaposition between my outfit and the mannequin’s weird burnout velvet cheongsam with kung fu cummerbund.

What I wore to my anniversary dinner: Kate Spade Intarsia cardigan, American Apparel tank, Leifsdottir Pondicherry skirt, Paul Mayer ballet flats, Club Monaco patent leather clutch, Nixon watch, Ann Taylor metal mesh magnetic cuff. (I can’t take credit for what’s on the mannequin.)

Look, I wouldn’t necessarily turn down a Taylor-Burton-sized gem. But if given a choice, I prefer being adored to being adorned. That’s just me.

Happy Anniversary, love bunny!