The Problem with Purses

So I bought a new purse yesterday. I decided that my old purse was just too darn big. I bought the old one about six months ago and it was a little bigger than I normally like. But I wanted something big enough to hold my Nook e-reader as well as all of the other normal stuff. And it looked like this.

Etienne Aigner Handbag, A Logo Tote - HandbagsAnd it was big enough to hold my Nook. And my wallet. And my cheater glasses. And my sunglasses. And some hand sanitizer and lip balm and lipstick that I rarely use and some Ibuprofen and some Acetaminophen and some miscellaneous papers and about sixty pens  and a fingernail file and my cell phone and gum and the kitchen sink.

Google Images

Well,there really wasn’t a kitchen sink in my purse but I think I could have probably fit a small child in there if I tried hard enough. It looked quite similar to the one in the photo above. That sucker was heavy! Sometimes I’d have to switch shoulders because the weight of the bag was too much and became painful.

What is it with us women? Why do we have to carry so much stuff around with us? And I have learned that the bigger the purse, the more stuff you’ll put in there. When I was carrying my gargantuan purse, people came to know that if they were in need of something, they could ask me because it was a pretty good bet I had everything anyone could possibly need ever in my purse. Ever!

Last summer I was working on a project at work that required me to relocate to a conference room for a couple of months so I could work closely with the team. It got so that I hardly ever even went to my desk. I just went straight to the conference room each morning with my jacket, purse and all. Favorite IT Guy, Dale made an observation about the women in the group one day. He was absolutely fascinated with the amount of stuff we hauled to and from work each day in our purses. I remember entering the room just after the conversation had begun and he looked at me and pointed. With wide eyes and awe in his voice, he said, “You have two of them! Why do you have two purses?”

“I don’t have two purses,” I argued. “I have one purse and one tote bag.There is a difference.”

Dale was confused. “What do you need to carry in the tote bag that isn’t already in the purse?”

“My lunch,” I said. “And sometimes my breakfast, and magazines I might have a chance to read over lunch break, the charging cord for my Nook, ear buds, multi-vitamins…”

I could tell Dale had already checked out as I listed the contents of my bags. It was that day that I began to realize that Dale had a very good point. What is with all the stuff? I’m nearly breaking my back hauling around all of the stuff I just might need at some point, but 99% of the time I don’t. I mean really! What do I really use on a daily basis out of all that stuff in my purse? My keys, my check card, my cell phone and the lip balm. What’s the worst that can happen if I lighten the load? Is there going to be a hair emergency if I don’t keep that travel-size bottle of hair spray on me at all times? I doubt it.

So I bought a new purse. I made sure my Nook wouldn’t fit in it. The new purse would actually fit in the old purse! And I swore I was going to pare down the stuff to just the essentials. Oh yes, I was making great strides in gaining control of my purse again. I couldn’t wait to sit down last night and clean out the old one. I was ready to have a reasonable purse again with a reasonable amount of stuff inside. I carefully sorted through the contents of my purse. I threw a lot of stuff away and eliminated the non-essentials. There would be no non-essentials in the new purse.

Now that I’ve made the switch to the new purse, there’s only one problem… I can’t get the zipper closed.

Office Restroom Perks

 Or potential plumbing problems…

The water in the toilets in the office restroom is hot. Feels kinda nice, actually. I was tempted to hang around a bit longer than usual, but didn’t want to cause any concern among my office mates. But one has to wonder why the plumbing there is carrying hot water.

Yep. That’s all I’ve got today. Carry on…

Because I can't seem to keep it brief

In an effort to grant you a reprieve from the usual long-windedness known as Terri’s posts, I give you…

A picture:

Mark and his new wheels

Mark's new toy by you.


A Picture with Quiz:

Banana by you.

Terri’s coworker, M felt the need to take a picture of her with a banana today because:

  1. M is on the National Banana Council and needs promotional photos
  2. Terri is trying out to be the next Chiquita Banana girl. She wants to have a reason to wear one of those Carmen Miranda fruit-basket-hat things at all times because fixing her hair every day is just a pain in the butt.
  3. Terri once told M about a spontaneous and ridiculous, but funniest adventure ever; a 2:00 a.m. after-bar trip with her best friend to a “toy” store in Minneapolis. M said she wanted to do that too. M told her new boyfriend that Terri was going to take her to the big “toy” store in Minneapolis if they are ever in the position to take a spontaneous and ridiculous 2:00 a.m. after-bar trip. Now M’s boyfriend wants to see what kind of lunatics M works with. Terri thought the banana was a nice touch. Terri and M currently have no plans to go out, get drunk, or go wandering downtown Minneapolis at 2:00 a.m.
  4. None of the above. Terri is just a little crazy at times.

That’s all. I know. Hard to believe, isn’t it?

Rock Chef's "off the top of his head" interview

I emailed my long time pal, Rock Chef this morning to inquire as to where today’s post might be. We’ve reached the point in our friendship where I feel comfortable enough to nag him about such a thing. He’s a good sport and he promptly got his daily post published, even including in the title an apology for making me wait! Look!

We exchanged a few emails and I soon found myself faced with a set of interview questions that he had promised quite some time ago. And since I am completely lacking in anything interesting to blog about, I am more than happy to respond. (And I am reminded that I promised interview questions to a few people a while ago too, so maybe I’ll get those out sometime this century as well.)

These are the questions that Rock Chef came up with “off the top of his head.”

  1. Choose three words to describe each of your children. Brad – extrovert, compassionate, mellow. Jake – intense, introspective, loyal. Kacey – adventurous, intelligent, nurturing. 
  2. You have been married to Mark for quite a long time now. What is your secret? What do you do that so many others fail to do? Two words: Night shift. I’m kidding! The real reason? He puts up with me.
  3. If you could walk into a new job, any job, no training required, what would it be? A writer. I could write columns, reviews, books…I don’t care. I would simply love to have the resources and the ability to write things people want to read.
  4. If you could re-live one year of your life, which one would it be? I thought long and hard about this one and the answer might surprise you. I would love to re-live the year I started school. I was five years old, going on six. Up until that point in my life, my world was incredibly small. The day I started school, the world began to expand before my very eyes. Every day brought new doors to be opened. Every day was an adventure and a chance to learn something new. I was unconditionally happy. Life was simple and infinitely exciting and I loved every minute of it.
  5. Do you think that your undeniable hotness affects the number of male readers that you get? If so, how do you feel about this?Rock Chef! I’m not hot! I am almost always cold except for approximately three days a year when it gets warm here. This is Minn-e-SOH-ta, remember? Duh! My standard winter wardrobe consists of approximately 13.6 layers of clothing. Hot. Really. What areyou thinking? Sheesh.

Sharing my useful knowlege

I thanked a coworker for sharing some new-found information this morning. She replied, “Knowledge is power. Use it wisely.”

I told her, “Ignorance is bliss.”

Truthfully, I do like to be well-informed, but that doesn’t always mean I’m smart. Smart people don’t run around melting their finger skin off with hot irons.

Smart people don't touch hot irons by you.

Don’t ask. Yes, I knew the iron was on. Yes, I knew it was hot. My only defense is that it was way too early for my brain to be functioning at full capacity and it even took quite a few seconds for my nerves to scream out, “Hey, Idiot! That hurts!”

Allow me to share some powerful knowledge with you. People with blisters on their fingers don’t bowl very well. Did I tell you? I’m a full-fledged member of the bowling team now. And of course, now that I’m no longer the sub, I’ve forgotten how to bowl. I bowled like a rock star when I was just the sub. Now that I’m a true member of the team, I kind of suck. This week, we’ll blame my pulled back muscle and blistered fingers. Next week I better show some improvement or they’ll kick me right back off the team!

There are interesting people in the bowling alley. Last week I was chatting with my little 17-year old mentally challenged buddy. He was telling me about bowling with his family and I told him as soon as they finish building the new bowling alley by my house that I’m going to go bowling all the time with my 17-year old son who also likes to bowl. There was a man sitting next to my buddy and I heard him ask, “Where do you live?”

I looked at him, and he was facing my direction but I honestly couldn’t tell if he was talking to me. One of his eyes was squished shut and the other was sort of floating around in circles. I tried to follow his gaze, but I was getting dizzy. He asked again, “Where do you live?”

I decided it was a safe bet to answer and that turned out to be a good call, since he was, in fact asking in which city I live so he could figure out where the new bowling alley was going to be. We had quite a nice conversation and I didn’t have to try too hard not to ask if he was allowed to drive with that rogue eye.

ADHD moment… Total change of subject. Check this out:

Believe it! by you.

My daughter got the biggest kick out of this insert that came in the package of underwear I bought her. The undies were these really teeny-tiny microfiber panties and did NOT look like they’d fit a grown person. But guess what? They do!

And speaking of random thoughts, my boss buys these awesome scented liquid Bath & Bodyworks hand-soaps for the ladies’ room at work. The one I tried today smelled really good, and I wanted to make a note of the name so I might buy some for at home. It was “Freshwater Cucumber.” I wonder if there are saltwater cucumbers too? I didn’t even know cucumbers could swim.

No, I have NOT been drinking. I’ve just had a hair-on-fire busy kind of week so far and for the record, I LOVE IT! Bring it on!

End of rambling… I’m off to catch up with all of you.

Sometimes you gotta laugh at yourself…

Don’t you love when you go to a sporting event and when you pay your admission, they “stamp” your hand so you can come and go without having to pay to get in again? Yes. Great idea.  Except when they “stamp” your hand with a permanent marker…

is it big enough? by you.

…which doesn’t come off after several hand washings. Could the admissions girl have made this “X” any bigger? And don’t you love when you sort of forget about that hand “stamp” before you go to bed and when you wake up in the morning, you realize the marker used to make that mark was possibly only semi-permanent? How does one come to this realization?

see it? by you.

Can you see it? (This picture doesn’t do it justice. It was more obvious than it appears here. Try to ignore the bed-head and lack of make-up, please. )Apparently I sleep in the fetal position, with my hands all tucked up under my chin, as evidenced by the blue “X” on my neck. Nothing a nice hot shower couldn’t take care of though, so don’t worry. I’m not running around all day today sporting a blue “X” on my neck.

Oh, well. I was getting in the “laugh-at-myself” habit earlier this week. You remember the boots, right? The boots purchased to go with the long sweater purchased for me by my coworker who wants to play “What Not To Wear” with me and my wardrobe?

Bad Ass Boots by you.

Yes, those boots. Well, I finally found some leggings and put together the outfit suggested by that coworker. Once I had it on… well, let’s just say that I wasn’t entirely opposed to the outfit. But I definitely didn’t think it was right for the office. And even if it was, there was a bigger issue. When I walked, so did the sweater. It walked upwards. I suddenly had visions of me strolling around the office and displaying parts that shouldn’t be displayed in an office environment. That’s all it took. It just seemed like too much maintenance to spend an entire workday in this outfit, worrying about whether or not everything was properly covered.

Not for the office. No way. by you.

So I took a picture for my coworker, to prove that I tried and so she can stop nagging me about wearing it to work. Someone commented on my earlier post that if I actually wore it, I would just fuel her fire and she would not leave me alone. Guess what. You were right. I didn’t even wear it. I just showed her the picture and explained my dilemma and told her I would NOT be wearing this to work. She insisted it was fine and that I could just find a short slip or try to stretch it a little to keep it from walking upwards. I just laughed. I had to. Otherwise I might have wanted to smack her.

Can’t say I wasn’t warned now, can I?

This one time? At band camp?

That is what we say to someone (usually my daughter) who is just rambling on and on about a whole lot of nothing, which is what I feel like doing tonight. It’s Friday and I’m happy and feeling chatty!

It’s too cold to leave the house, so I’m staying put tonight. (You’re tired of hearing about it, I’m sure.) We Minnesotans brag about being ‘hardy’ and all, but really, we just have no choice. We just endure it because we’re stuck here. Our cars won’t start and it’s impossible to get to a warmer climate. Personally, I whine a lot and walk around spewing weather-hating vibes and pout. I am not hardy. Tonight I am sitting in front of my gas fireplace (fire at the flip of a switch) and soaking up all the heat I can.

All of the talk around the office today was the warmer temperatures predicted for next week. (I’m thinking RUNNING!) On the way home from work I was listening to the radio in the car. The d.j. said something about hoping the snow and freezing rain just hold off until after rush hour. Freezing rain? Are you serious? We need a break! I’m going to have to wear screw shoes if I want to get a run in after the week we’ve had. (I can imagine where some of your minds are going thinking ‘screw shoes!’ For the record, these are not single girl bar attire.) Check out Irene’s post if you don’t know what screw shoes are. I’m totally giving this a try. (But not on the new shoes.)

The kids had another day off school today. Not all of the districts in the area closed yesterday and a bunch of buses broke down, leaving kids standing in -40 wind chills waiting for the bus for extended periods of time. Very dangerous! So another day off it was for everybody! The district’s automated phone system called ahead this time. At 11:15 pm. So let’s tally this up. They woke me up at 5:00 a.m. on my day off to notify us that there would be no school on Thursday. Then they woke me up at 11:15 p.m. that same night to notify us that there would be no school on Friday. They woke me up twice in the same day! Maybe some of us could just opt to check the website for cancellations instead of getting the wake-up calls? And of course the kids have no school on Monday because of MLK day. And then they also have no school on Tuesday because of conferences. A six-day weekend. Not bad. I miss being a kid.

I love when the kids are home and their dad is home and yet I still get text messages at work asking permission for this or that. I love to call them back and ask, “Do you not have a perfectly good dad hanging around there somewhere? Did you ask his permission?” The usual response is, “No, I didn’t ask him.” Sometimes there’s a lame excuse like, “Well, he’s out in the garage.” Yes, he’s twenty feet away. That is a long way, as opposed to me who is twenty MILES away! It’s so obvious what this says about me. I am the softy. (Well, duh! “Hey, how ’bout we just get a Wii for no reason?” Yeah. I’m the softy. And a big kid.)

Mark’s been on a cleaning binge this week. Not just the usual cleaning, but a laundry room-closet-game cupboard-cleaning kind of binge. This is excellent! I’ve been feeling the need to do some major cleaning and purging and this is just the kick start I needed. The problem is, he took all of our games out of the game cupboard which is easily accesible in the family room. Do you know where he put them? Does anyone have one of those closet-under-the-steps type closets? Are they useless or what? Do you konk your head every time you try to retrieve something from the deep recesses of that closet? That closet is meant for things you don’t need to see again for three years. And apparently. Games. In a big Rubbermaid storage box. I asked Mark if he honestly thought games would be placed back in their proper place in the big, huge storage bin in the closet that tries to hurt you when you go in it. His response was that now we have a nice, clean empty cupboard in the family room.

“Which we will use for…. what?”


Blankets? Isn’t that what linen closets are for? Do you sense my frustration here? After we had this conversation, I told him he was getting blogged. He said, “OK.” He probably knows you guys are going to defend him on this one.

Oh, man. Now I’m feeling ungrateful. He worked really hard to empty out the game cupboard and organize things and I am complaining about his choice of storage area. (Although why the cupboard needs to be empty, I’m not sure.) And a bunch of old games are getting thrown, donated, or regifted to my brother’s son. (My brother liked to buy games for my kids such as ‘Big John’ – the electronic toilet game and ‘Gooey Louie’ – the game in which you pick Louie’s nose and hope your pick is not the one that makes his brain explode. It’s only fair that his son experience the fun of these games just as my children did. So he shall be receiving them on his next birthday along with his real gift.) Anyway, I may argue that the game cupboard is a necessity. We’ll compromise until I get my way. For the record, the laundry room is in better shape than it’s been in years. I have no complaints there.

On a totally unrelated note, my perfume is bugging me. I gave myself one small spray of it this morning and realized I can’t stand how this smells on my skin. Therefore, I have been accutely aware of the scent all day. It’s called ‘Very Sexy 2’ but on me it’s more like ‘Very Granny Bathing in her Perfume.’  Note to self: Get rid of it! I need to go wash this stuff off.

Ok. I think I have run out of things to say, but you never know…


Edited to add: Kacey says I’m mean for telling everyone that we make fun of her stories by mimicking her with “this one time? at band camp?” and also the only reason she texts me at work is that we both know that if she asks her dad something, he will say, “I dunno. Ask your mother.”

Just setting the record straight.