|When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping
||[Aug. 22nd, 2007|09:21 pm]
In just a few scant weeks, I will be winging my way to Vegas to meet up with millimom (aka Siskers), bliss (aka Kam) and annie (always annie). I am totally psyched, because even though these are three of my bestest friends in the whole wide
web world, I have only actually met one of them face to face.
So of course I am in a tizzy. Because, Vegas. Vegas is in the desert. I live in a swamp. There's a very good chance I will step off the plane and simply dry up into nothing. And my hair. I will have to do something about my hair, which depends on the kindness of strangers and high humidity to mask the hacking I do to it on a regular basis. Drop me in the desert, and it becomes painfully obvious that I cut it myself. After midnight. And a glass of wine. In the dark. Seriously, I will need to do something. There might even be hair accessories involved. It could get complicated.
Anyway, I'm very excited about the trip, and of course my first thought was, I need to go shopping. Because that's pretty much my first thought when faced with just about any other thought. Milli, a seasoned traveller, suggested that carrying a large purse in addition to a carry-on bag was a good idea, in case you end up having to check the bag. And of course I don't own a large purse. So large purse was first on the list.
I happened to find myself in a store with a friend, who is much younger than I am. She found me not one but two purses, because after I realized I was going to be carrying a large purse on the journey, I realized I needed a small purse to carry after I arrived. She picked out a big old honkin' hot pink canvas tote and a small bronze leather hobo-ish bag. She liked the bronze one so much she bought one for herself, too. Isn't this cute? she asked, stylish bronze purse tucked rakishly under her arm. Yes! I said, and I meant it, so she convinced me it was just the thing I needed. The big old honkin' canvas tote was a bargain at $11. While waiting in line, I snagged a pair of big old honkin' Jackie O sunglasses, because - Vegas. Apparently big old honkin' is going to be a theme for me. My butt will fit right in!
Back home, I started to have doubts. The big old honkin' hot pink tote seemed a might...big. I started to worry that when I tried to board the plane, the agent would arch an eyebrow at me. What's that? she would ask. My purse, I would answer, not meeting her eyes. The agent would turn to her co-worker and laugh, Looks like we got another code 87 here, Mabel. Passenger trying to sneak on two carry-ons. Everyone would turn to look at me. Other passengers would shake their heads sadly. A small child would point, his mother quickly grabbing his arm and leaning down to whisper a warning for him to not stare.
And then there was the little purse. I started thinking that metallic leather purse carried by 32-year-old = kicky and fun, while metallic leather purse carried by a 47-year-old = Extra on the set of The Golden Girls.
I gave the big old honkin' hot pink canvas tote to Middle Daughter, convincing myself that the canvas wouldn't travel well, and trooped back to the store to pick up a pleather bag that looks much more purse-like. It's huge for me, but milli and annie will laugh at the notion of it being a large purse. My 29-year-old co-worker convinced me the bronze purse would be OK as long as I don't mix it with gold house shoes and an appliqued sweat shirt. Hmmm. Maybe I should have told her about the sunglasses.
Up next: The Bathing Suit.