Contents of this purse
may be larger than they appear
Purses are a many splendored thing.
Mysterious. Useful. Donkey-like. A woman’s ultimate security blanket.
And if they are a mirror to our soul, I am in deep trouble.
Recently I purchased the book Snoop: What Your Stuff Says About You by Sam Gosling, because to be honest, I like to know a lot about people. And as I get older, I’m becoming more efficient and figure instead of asking questions I can just look at their stuff and be done with it.
I haven’t started reading the book – yet – but I know I don’t want Sam Gosling anywhere near my purse.
It occurred to me last week when I was moving stuff from one purse to another that if someone examined the contents, I would be classified as tentatively ready for the end of time, or a business meeting with Lady GaGa.
In fact, I am almost certain if I were to become lost in the wilderness I could survive about three days, provided there was water nearby and that breath mints meet minimal nutritional requirements.
A partial inventory of items found in my purse includes: a bottle of JWOWW tanning lotion, billfold, a business card for someone I neither know nor remember, three bottles of perfume (two of which were empty), set of earbuds for my ipod (no ipod), a bag o’ lipstick, a glasses case with glasses, a second glasses case with glasses, seven ink pens, a makeup brush, about $6 in loose change, three lighters, two mints from the Rib Crib in Lubbock, eye goggles for the tanning bed, empty Tylenol bottle, allergy medicine and a shopping list from three weeks ago.
My purse is a mobile and contained scavenger hunt.
I should be ashamed but I realize that genetically, women feel the need to carry ALL the stuff they think they’ll need to survive each day.
And probably, there is just some deep-rooted psychological reason I kept that old shopping list.