Words written: DFL 380

So, the weekend. Friday I staggered home, grateful for it being Friday. I discovered my new camera sitting on my desk and was all a-twitter. Ken made something awesome for dinner—I think parmesan-roasted potatoes were part of it, but I’m blanking now. There was braindead lounging in front of the TV. We went to bed at a sadly reasonable hour, because I was exhausted and because I had a hair appt in the morning (I scheduled it early so I’d get my ass out of bed at a sadly decent hour. What is wrong with me?).

I realized quite swiftly that, if I were going to carry the camera with me from now on (which I wanted to do), I was going to need a bigger purse. Now, let me say for the new folks that I don’t have the Female Purse Gene any more than I have the Female Shoe Gene. I don’t get why I need a different purse with every outfit. I most emphatically do not have the time to swap things out between multiple purses. (Do rich women have servants to do this? I just can’t fathom it.) But at the same time, I’ve learned that sometimes I do need different-sized bags (not just purses, but backpacks or attaché cases or whatnot) for different activities.

My current purse was a $3 impulse buy because I was tired of using my fanny pack*/bum bag/moon pack/whatever when we traveled by motorcycle. The fp has its uses, but isn’t the classiest thing around. But my only other purse was an expensive thing from the Relax the Back store that I’d bought out of desperation because I needed a purse that wasn’t going to make me shuffle around like the Hunchback of Notre Dame after carrying it for half an hour. However, that purse was too big, and didn’t have enough compartments; I was forever pawing around in it trying to find things. (In its defense—if a purse needs a defense—it has a wonderful inner pocket on the bottom that’s perfect for hiding a camera when going to concerts. And it’s bag-like enough that nobody blinks over the fact that Ken is carrying it.)

So. New purse needed. Requirements: long enough strap to wear cross-ways across my body for maximum comfort and balance; several pockets; big enough to hold all my daily stuff**; small enough to get shoved in a bike trunk. That doesn’t sound hard, does it? Really, what I’m describing is a messenger bag, and they were all the rage a few years ago…which, of course, was my problem.

So a new purse became my quest for the day.

First we went to the Salvation Army, to drop off four boxes of stuff. We pottered in SA for a little bit, but found nothing of real interest. We stopped at PetSmart, but they didn’t have a pet gate that suited our needs. Alas, they also had cat adoptions going on, and fool that I am, I had to go and met at the kitties, and as always, I walked away with tears in my eyes. We’ve got a big house and the funds to take care of more cats, but Eostre was so damn miserable when Charlie was around that I don’t have the heart to do that to her again. (Kittens might be acceptable to her—but kittens are easier to place than adult cats anyway.) When I turn the back apartment into my writing office, I’m probably going to get a cat or two to live out there.

We then hied ourselves to Staples and Bed Bath and Beyond. At the latter I finally picked up a drink mixer/shaker so I can make tasty fun drinks like Cosmopolitans. We also got a new bathroom set for the upstairs bathroom because we’d managed to break both the cup and soap dispenser. Why oh why do they make breakable things to go in bathrooms? The mind boggles. We got other house things, but I’m already blanking on what they were. I’m sure I’ll remember in the middle of the night.

I tried to find a purse in TJ Maxx and some other outlet store, but no luck. Because the type of purse I want isn’t trendy right now. Have I mentioned lately that I hate shopping?

Anyway. After dinner we went shopping again, this time primarily for foodstuffs, since we’d realized that we were short a couple of things to make a big ol’ batch of Thai yellow curry that we were planning on. First, however, I held my nose and plunged into WalMart in search of a damn purse, because I was now obsessed. Long story short (because, hey, who can make f-ing purse shopping sound at all interesting?) I have a new purse. It looks almost exactly like my old purse, only it’s slightly bigger. Same color, same shape, same manufacturer. Fine. Done. Even if I had to shop at the Store of the Beast. (There must be a numerological way to make WalMart equal 666…)

But it gets worse. You know how the music in the Store of the Beast has the subliminal “you have to spend at least $25” message? Well. I don’t remember walking into the housewares aisle. But we ended up with a new set of dishes. We desperately needed new dishes, as we’d broken all but one of our bowls and several of the small plates had big chips out of them… Now we have new cobalt blue plates, small plates, and bowls, service for eight, along with large and small cobalt blue glasses, ditto. Damn that music, and damn the Store of the Beast.

After we food shopped, we went home and I made kick-ass brownies, to drown our guilt in warm gooey chocolate and cold milk.

That brings us to Sunday, but it’s 9 p.m. and I’m already sleepy and I’m curling up in bed with my book and my beloved.

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*Apologies to my UK readers. It doesn’t mean the same thing here.

** Which isn’t a lot, really. Wallet, camera, gum, extra house key, small notebook, two pens, paperback book, occasionally Palm and keyboard, powder, lipstick, lip balm, eye drops, packet of Kleenex, and a couple of Tylenol Allergy/Sinus pills.

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What Have I Done Today to Make My Writing Dream Come True? Wrote; sent proposal of Sarah’s & my novel to Virgin editor; sent author questionnaire back to Carnifex Press.
Currently Reading: Totally Spellbound, Kristine Grayson (aka Kristine Kathryn Rusch); the most recent Faerie Magazine
Lately Listened To: Chess soundtrack
Recently Watched: Charmed