Do you like my new ring? Isn't it sparkly? No, I'm not engaged, ha ha, silly thing--this is... well, let's say it's a family piece. The stones in it belonged, in a special and very specific way, to my grandmother. In fact, these stones used to be my grandmother, before I had her cremated and compressed into diamonds. Look -- she's winking at you!

I was talking to Tahmi last night, and in discussing options for properly disposing of her grandmother's ashes (currently residing in the trunk of her car) she mentioned that she'd run across an ad for something called LifeGems, a company that will, for a fee, compress your loved ones into jewelry. It's an idea of such hideous poor taste that I was forced immediately to admire it and covet LifeGems of my own.

I don't have any human ashes lying around, but out of curiosity and a fondness of shiny objects, I visited the LifeGems site for inspiration. Expecting a jewelry store, I was naively surprised by the funereal, syrupy tone of the language. I should have expected it, I guess, but to me, the idea of compressed relatives is so appealing and maudlin that I would have enjoyed a site decorated with illustrations by Gahan Wilson or Edward Gorey.

I am glad that I don't have to make decisions about relatives' ashes at this time, because I learned that the LifeGems process is prohibitively expensive. A .99-carat diamond (for some reason, the range of weights offered stops short of a full carat) can cost more than $10,000 without a setting, although LifeGems will be glad to sell you one. There are many beautiful options, and each page of the web site features testimonials from satisfied customers certain that Gil, or whoever, is REALLY inside the ring, winking at them. What an afterlife for Gil. Not pleasant, once the ring-wearer starts dating again.

I learned also that it's possible to compress and facet the ashes of former pets, which could have been useful to me, had I not frozen and then buried my last cat. It would be so lovely to wear that necklace from the Mr. Boy collection. I haven't had pets since, but I am thinking about getting some, like maybe adopting a really old cat, so the waiting process won't be too long. I'll be kind to her while she's alive--don't think I'm on any kind of a killing spree, here, but I can't wait forever, because the diamond-creation process takes a while. See:

A diamond that takes millions of years to occur naturally can now be created from the carbon of your loved one in about twenty-four weeks.

So, there is a certain amount of planning ahead, or "pre-planning," as the site terms it. It is also possible to "pre-plan" one's own diamondification, and send the appropriate funds, facilitating the process for your relatives. I can only imagine my family's reaction, were I to show up as a pair of earrings via Fed Ex some afternoon. Horror and startled laughter, followed by intense, brutal fighting over who got to wear them first. They're like magpies, scrapping over a shiny piece of foil in the parking lot.

In the end, Tahmi and I decided that LifeGems was too expensive an alternative to consider, but we're working on a plan, or "pre-plan," if you will, to make our own LifeGems. How hard can it be, really? The Earth makes diamonds all the time without thinking about it, so we should be able to whip up a batch using Tahmi's George Foreman grill. This process should work with any carbon-based life form, so we plan to make some not just from the carbon of our loved ones, but the carbon of some grilled salmon, and maybe some bologna ("Oh, my earrings have a first name..."). LunchGem, we can call it. We'll undercut the competition and be rich! Rich as Vikings!

With the money we make, we can send our actual relatives' carbon to the real LifeGems place, and get tiaras, like huge, filigree tiaras studded with constellations of orange and blue diamonds, spelling out our names. It's a grand celebration of life!

Star of the day. . .Aimee Thanatogenous