Guest post from Tracey Gee!
Welcome to Week 1 of Project Purse Dump. I get to go first only so I can give the other wonderful people who’ve signed up a chance to get their blogs ready. Mine will be the dullest purse, I’m sure.
First of all, I don’t carry a purse. That alone is a blog post (not really, that would be cruel). I’m a backpack kinda gal and have been for about 30 years. I have come to the following two conclusions about this:
It’s better for my body.
I’m a Libra and hate to be unbalanced.
And here’s my stash, once more, with feeling:
Here’s the tale of the tape, minus the tape.
The two most essential drugs/supplements in my life, after Xylometazoline: Acetaminophen and Lactaid®. They go with me, everywhere.
I live in Canada. And like most Canucks, I have a dizzying array of Tim Cards. Neither of these has any money on it. Bummer.
Boring. My wallet and coin purse.
Double-boring. My water bottle. You never know when you’ll be stranded and need water. One day, I’ll blog about my struggle (mostly over now, phew) with OCD. Not fake OCD, the real deal.
My blood donor reminder card. I went last week. Yay! Cookies!
Ok, now we have a story. This is my ultra-cool Swiss Army knife. I’ve carried one forever. The best thing about this one (my second in 30+ years, first one was stolen)? I was in Genève once a long long time ago and got locked in a public toilet. For years I wondered what on earth would I ever do with a fish scaler. Seriously? Me? I’m at two with Nature.
Then I went to Genève. Things to know about many parts of Europe? Pay toilets. Things to know about this particular pay toilet in Genève?
If you catch the door before it closes and you haven’t put any coins in (I didn’t have any, I wasn’t being cheap, just desperate), you will be LOCKED IN THE TOILET.
A lot of the public toilets are floor-to-ceiling walls for the cubicles. That means, they aren’t really cubicles. They’re tiny rooms.
There is a drug problem in some parts of Europe and in some public toilets (even in really nice places), they use black light so those wanting to find a vein can’t do so.
So you get the idea: I was locked in a very dark tiny room in Switzerland. And I have a train to catch (once I find the train station) because I’m heading to Italy (the food’s better).
Oh, did I mention I’m claustrophobic?
And did I mention there is little-to-no sympathy for North Americans travelling in Europe without change for the toilet? That’s just an aside.
In panic, I rifled through my knapsack and dug up my Swiss Army knife and tried a few things before hitting the fish scaler and voila! I was in Milan later that same day eating farfalle al funghi, the morning just a bad memory.
My teeny phone. I live on my teeny phone. Mummy loves her teeny phone. It’s an HTC Desire C and I have three of them. No. Really. All I need: email, WhatsApp, and Instagram. It possibly works as a phone, too.
A watch. Yes. It’s true. I wear a watch. I hate having to look at my phone for the time because I don’t want to look like one of those people who owns 3 HTC Desire C phones.
My comb. Just in case I get a moment to actually comb my hair. That happened in 2014, and I look forward to it happening again this fiscal.
What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t have my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle gel pen?
Don’t laugh. It’s the schedule for the Y by my house. I circle classes on it (which I never attend).
My only cosmetic: lip balm. That’s it.
My key chain. See that carabiner clip? I hang my keys on my bra strap. It’s the only way I can find my keys. I never keep them in my purse except when I’m NOT out. That spine on my key chain? That from my evil chiropractor. It’s a great ice breaker.
My teeny tiny travel New Testament, Psalms, and Proverbs. Because you never know when you need a quiet moment with God.
About Tracey Gee
Bright light! Bright light! (Sure, you saw Gremlins, didn’t you?)
I’m a crabby old bat. Easily distracted. Portly, perimenopausal, whiffy yet whimsical. I keep the BFG 9000 in my girdle. In my spare time, I eat stress. Lots of it.
I’m the O/O of LOVExtra.com, my newest binary baby who’s about to turn one, this November. My personal blog is the aptly named Old Enough and Ugly Enough. J
I’m trying desperately to write a book which is worthy of a publisher’s notice. In the absence of that, I play piano and classical guitar—badly—and go to Zumba. My own true love.
I eschew malls.