Compost Studios

OK, there are all sorts of TV programs dealing with the paranormal, but one subject is never explored that affects thousands of women every day. I’m talking about the mysterious forces that tangle and mangle bracelets and necklaces while we sleep and our jewelry is supposedly secure and at rest in our jewelry boxes.

This topic is high on my list of unexplained acts of nature because today I stopped in at the spa at the Embassy to see if I could get my daughter a haircut. Our stylist was booked, but I noticed the massage therapist wasn’t busy and so on the spur of the moment, I decided to get a massage. I have never gotten a professional massage before, but since I’ve been a little depressed, the E-Man is out of town, and my chiropractor is on holiday, it seemed like a better than excellent idea. I needed it mentally and physically.

So I undress and remove my jewelry, which includes a 24-inch gold chain with a diamond heart pendant. The E-Man gave this to me in college for surviving a brutal session of summer school, and it has a lot of sentimental value. Because of this, I’m extra careful with it as I take it off and refasten the ends of the chain together before laying the necklace in the little ceramic tray in the room.

Before long I’m face down on the table, oiled like a body builder, and loving life. The massage therapist spends 45 minutes untying the knots in my muscles, loosening my joints, and revving up my circulation. When the massage is over and I’m getting back into my clothes, I lift up my diamond necklace and notice immediately it has a knot in the chain. How is it possible that while the therapist was working out my kinks the necklace was getting kinky?

I try to unravel the mess in the chain and can’t do it. I blame it on the dim lighting and my lack of glasses and just put it in my pocket to work on later. When I get home, I pick at the links only to reach a point where I’m down to the end and it looks like a Chinese puzzle—one piece apparently having slid through another but refusing to reverse itself.

How is that possible? Why does this happen? And who’s going to get to the bottom of this mystery (and untangle my chain)? Are there pissed-off pixies at work in the world? Grouchy gremlins? Evil elves? Aliens seeking accessories? Bad-ass borrowers? Mind-bending magnetic forces? Part-time poltergeists? Sinister spirits?

Enquiring minds want to know.

November 9, 2005