inspired by Bag Ladies
These are just the things I cram into my pockets.
1. keys (three, only one of which I have any use for; the bead string is an old anklet I made then promptly broke and never got around to fixing the clasp of; the hearts were on post-Valentine's clearance at the Gap, and Aynne has some, too);
2. at least one pair barrettes, bobby pins, or hairbands;
3. lip balm;
4. ID and bank cards;
5. a pen, because there are always things to write down;
6. the phone (I am convinced if I ever leave it behind, my daughter will have an emergency);
The compact only comes out for extended journeys, it's just here right now because it has a mirror so you can see
7. my camera, which is #2 behind the keys under Things I Would Hate to Find I Left the House Without.
What's really in my bag:
It's a little busier than normal, what with the addition of the class record book and related office supplies.
I love those mini binder clips so much I bought them.
Blue sheet of paper sticking out of the gradebook is one of many, many odd notes that have been left regularly in our mail slot by an unknown nutjob over the years. This particular one says:
Fast 300 days at time of death.
Stay up drive 6,000 days at time of death don't have sex.
Don't go to church.
Dont let nobody be a police officer no more God says.
Stay up drive presidents day 225 days fast 30 days.
It's on the back of a flyer advertising Hajj 2004 packages. Another one that came recently is on a flyer for the re-opening of Flint's BBQ, which I am glad to know about, and urged us to let artist make money 4 days a week.
Sounds good to me.
The black bag my mom gave me, and the red one that was sitting by the checkstand at the discount emporium, patiently waiting for me to give it a good home.
I get really antsy if I'm out without a pen, which is why I tend to go a little overboard.
The green box has a dozen or so stick ballpoints; sitting on top are three Sarasa gel pens, though I usually cart around the ten-pack.
And you know I'm old school because I've always got a Sharpie. Or maybe I'm just getting myself ready to label my girl's clothes for camp.
Contrary to what your deceptive eyes may be telling you, the chair is not part of the contents of my purse. The farthest that chair ever goes is from the living room to the kitchen and back.
Venus de Mintos aren't my favorite breath fresheners (that would be the pastilles from France in the oval box, in either rose or orange flower flavor) but I love the packaging.
My wallet is from Smoking Lily in Victoria BC, the literal hole in the wall shop G. introduced me to last summer. It has a fly screenprinted on the flap, and you can barely make out all the little holes from the time the cat mistook my wallet for my sandal and was humping it.
Paper items: a design sampler from two years ago; notes about a flyer I'm doing for Jonathan ("lounge of the future, but no space age!"); this month's piddly court-garnished child support check. I am not complaining because piddly money is better than no money, which is what usually comes.
Band-Aids should have been in that first shot, I picked up the habit of always having a few with me once D'arby started walking, but they were throwing the contrast off. Right now there's also a packet of Liquid Band-Aid, which turns black and horrid after about two hours but works much better than the regular Band-Aids on flip-flop blisters because it does not come off after two seconds.
Q-tip brand swabs are the most reliable.
Note that two tampons pictured are different types, thus placed in purse at least a month apart. They'll be needed sooner or later.
Wite-out, for downgrading students when they annoy me.
Pink fuzzy headband (in my world, headbands go around the head; hairbands go around pigtails).
I always need change for the bus and to give Chad for parking.
Weekly schedule for Radio.
Season passes for D'arby and I for Santa Cruz.
Smithsonian product and YMCA summer catalogs that came today when I was running out to mail my taxes.
Matches in case I am stranded on a desert island.
Official Texas Coin Purse that Maria brought me. She brought D'arby Texas Jellybeans, which are so big they're even sillier than normal jellybeans.
Ananya eau de toilette, which Body Shop doesn't make anymore. I stocked up when they were on clearance a few years ago and still have a few stashed in a dark, dry corner somewhere.
More barrettes.
Turbotax instructions for mailing my state forms; the fed ones got electronically filed so long ago that I've long since spent my refund.
Wallet contents include:
1. blood, bone marrow, and organ donor cards;
2. frequent shopper cards for Rasputin (a local new and used record chain; I prefer Amoeba, but they don't have a card), Beauty Town (where I buy hair dye and 10/$1 hair clips, downtown Oakland), Happy Trails (kitschy fun stuff, highly recommended, Alameda) and Pegasus Books (new and used, Shattuck, College, and Solano);
3. our health insurance cards;
4. gift cards for Tower and Barnes & Noble, which may or may not have credit on them;
5. our library cards, which we hardly ever use because it's a long way there and whenever we go, we rack up all sorts of fines;
6. mini calendar from Piedmont Stationers;
7. Chad's business card;
8. Ian's school picture from last fall;
9. more cash than I usally have.
Up top is the Hello Kitty pencil case that Jen gave me and I'm using for miscellaneous things that get lost when they're set loose in the purse.