When I was in high school I carried a backpack, before backpacks were cool. I totally wasn’t cool, because I was a band geek and I was in orchestra and to make matters worse I played for school shows AND school religious services. So basically, there were constant reminders that I was one of the biggest dweebs in school. And I’m not talking about my school uniform being one of the only ones that actually REACHED the knees in the whole school. Or my knee socks pulled up to (GASP) the knees. Or the penny loafers. Or the trumpet pin I wore everyday. But I digress.
Where was I?
Oh, backpacks. Right. So I carried a backpack. And then I worked in the city so I kept carrying a backpack so I could bring my wallet and Walkman (REMEMBER THOSE?) to work on the train because it was heavy. And I brought books, too. Then I went to college and carried a backpack. Then I worked in a different city and took the train so I carried a backpack. Then I went back to college again (FOUR MAJORS!) and carried a backpack. Then I FINALLY graduated from college, planned on getting a purse and surprise! Preggers! Which amused the husband, by the way. So I started carrying a diaper bag backpack. And I carried it for eight years because Bugaboo still worse diapers up to a few months ago, when he started full-time school at that glorious, wonderful program of his. So I got a small purse. A purse that is sorta messenger style and basically barely fits a wallet and a calendar/planner (I swear, I’m the last person on earth that has an actually planner that YOU WRITE IN) and my glasses and cellphone and iPod (smaller than a Walkman) and lip balm and altoids and keys. And calculator. Like, I can’t always zip it. But I REFUSE to be the type of gal that NEEDS to carry a purse. I don’t bring makeup or hair brushes (do people actually brush hair? ’cause I don’t) or any of that girly crap. Have you seen some of these purses today? They look like luggage! No, I’m not kidding! You could use it AS A CARRY ON ON A PLANE. I swear some of these gals are carrying around a hairdryer, a change of clothes and a SmartCar. It’s that big.
Anyways, last week I was at the allergist and now have prescribed to me a fashionable epipen and rescue inhaler. HOLLA! I’m so hip. And I can’t cram them in my much-to-small for a REAL woman purse. I only buy one not-a-purse a year. And it looks like this year I am going to join the ranks of millions of women my age and grow up and get a real, live, actual purse that you can fit things in. Like, a big one. ‘Cause I’m all about these bags right here.