Tag Archives: consumerism

What’s in My Purse: Part 1

What does your stuff say about you? Well, I don’t know what type of stuff you have. But if you’re like me at all, you have a purse and it is filled with crap. I’m known for this, for having a purse filled with crap. If Matti wants to borrow my Ray Bans and he knows they are in my purse, he does not borrow my Ray Bans.

"I see what you mean about your purse" -You and everyone, right now.

“I see what you mean about your purse” -You and everyone, right now.

Whenever I go through security lines, the security guards, as they pick up my purse, are like “geeeesh, what do you have in here?”

And I’m all like “well, you’re about to see on that x-ray machine and also, aren’t you supposed to be strong?”

I just like the feeling of knowing I have something incase I need it (because it’s super important to carry a sole Crest Whitestrip with you in case one row of teeth really needs the clean). Don’t tell me you don’t have a junk drawer. Or a stuffed box of notes a friend you don’t speak to anymore wrote you in high school. Maybe one of those fake, plastic lockers filled with Playboys? Anything? It’s not hoarding if you can remember where you got the item, right? Or is that how you know it’s starting? Well, this is the beginning of a lovely series I have creatively titled, “What’s in my purse?” where I will answer one of life’s most well-kept mysteries: what the fuck does she keep in that thing?

Either way, before I begin to tell you about what is in my purse, I’d first like to ask you to please judge me for all of the things that are in my purse.

  • Whale toothbrush holder: this says I’m a supportive person because I’m always ready to hold close what’s important to me (and also that I’m really good at unpacking in a timely fashion). Are whales fish or mammals? Definitely, mammals. Right?

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  • Owl Date Stamp: This says that I’m whimsical and fun. Whimsical people always have owl trinkets, that’s just a known fact. Also, if you ever need something  to be dated, well I don’t have an ink pad in my purse so you’re out of luck.
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    This was 8 dollars at Whole Earth Provisions. I have never used it.

  • Postmaster Junior Sticker Roll: I’m the first person who is going to get a kid to stop crying at a grocery store. Who could cry while wearing a Junior Postmaster sticker? Come on. How cool did you think mail people were growing up?

    I may even give you one without a coffee stain on it...

    I may even give you one without a coffee stain on it…

  • Two bent Laffy Taffys: I bought Laffy Taffy for a little girl I worked with on her birthday. Upon further thinking, I realized giving three extra long pieces of hard, chewy candy to a five year old wouldn’t be the best idea. On a different note, I have some extra Laffy Taffy if anyone wants some.

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    Rock hard candy, no one?

  • A travel-sized flashlight: This should just tell you I’m prepared. Comes in handy when you can’t find your dogs’ poop in the dark.
  • A Baggy full of Bunion support gear: Only really attractive people have bunions. I like to break out this gear when I really wanna let someone know I’m serious about living. Living it up, bunion style. Actually, these things all look vaguely like sex toys, the beige numbers look and feel like toe bikinis.

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    Play your cards right and I may post a picture of my feet in these babies sometime.

  • A froggy thermometer: 90 percent of the time I think I have a fever. 89 percent of the time I don’t have a fever. I also like frogs.

    "I don't like to take myself too seriously."

    “I don’t like to take myself too seriously.”

  • Coolest pin ever: This pin fell off the kickass purse Matti’s Stepmom made for me a while back. The purse is made out of jeans and Matti’s ties for the handles. It’s actually the coolest bag I own. This pin is to remind everyone that I appreciate inspirational text but only in a hip, vintage way (so everyone knows I’m trendy and unique).

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  • A Ninja Star: The quickest way to be the coolest person in any room is to have a ninja star on you. Just don’t ask me how I made it. Seriously, I completely forget. OKAY FINE — a seven-year-old boy made it for me.


If I were to judge myself based on these things I would probably say I need more attention and I need to relax. Also, maybe, get your shit together and get some adult items. Mostly, however, I’d be like, dayuummm girrl you know how to have a good time and then I’d reply to myself, you really need to get out of the house more.

What weirdo stuff do you have in your purse/wallet/coffee table/kitchen junk drawer/shoebox in the closet and can I see pictures of it all?

This post was written in response to the DP Challenge

The Plight of the Sign Spinner

Dear Mr. Sign spinner,

I’m sorry you keep dropping your sign. It makes me sad because I feel like I know you, which may be because you wink at me when I drive by, as if you can see how good-looking I am from that far away. Do you want me to run away with you, sign spinner? I know you wink at all the girls but am I different? Are you looking for a way out, sign spinner?

I wonder what your day is like. It’s fucking hot outside — like, over a hundred degrees hot. Do you have a personal fan? Do you wear a bathing suit all day? Maybe tear-a-way shorts? Has anyone ever stopped to come to your food truck because of your sign spinning abilities? Do they have sign spinning competitions? When people are walking by, do they ever ask you to sign something? Do your sign spinning moves have names? Like a double axel spin or a sideways spin? Did you have to try out to be a sign spinner at such a prime location? Is sign spinning a sport? For your sake, I hope it is.

I recently learned that sign spinning was invented by a contestant on The Bachelorette. I bet that makes you mad. Hey, I understand, I didn’t think the contestants on that show had real jobs either.


You’re smile is not fooling me, sign spinner. I see those beads of sweat oozing down your face, dampening the sideburns you just trimmed that morning. Your hands are sweaty, aren’t they sign spinner? That’s why you keep dropping your sign. I don’t doubt your sign spinning abilities, for there has been many a time where I was impressed by your taco/shaved ice display. But not today, sign spinner, not today. You look lost. Would you rather be doing acrobats? Maybe martial arts? You seem like you’d be good at that sort of thing.

Do you have a degree, sign spinner? I’m sure this isn’t how you imagined ending up. At least you don’t have to wear that statue of liberty costume like some spinners. You’d probably do really well teaching yoga, you seem limber. I just think maybe it’s time to give up the sign spinning. Your sign is falling everywhere. Clearly, your heart is not in it anymore. You’ve literally almost gotten run over by a smart car three times after your sign has sprung out of your hands and into the street. I have been at this stop light for long enough to see your plight. And I, myself, have now almost gotten into an accident making sure you’re not actually Weird Al Yankovich.

So just give it up, sign spinner. There are better ways. Take some of  your advice, go get some shaved ice and maybe a breakfast taco, call it a day.

What’s that, you say, sign spinner?

You make $60 an hour?

How the hell do I become a sign spinner?

Ikea or DIE!

I went to Ikea last weekend and now I am going to tell you what I think of Ikea. First of all, people are APPALLED if they find out you’re an adult who has never been to Ikea. It was not TOO difficult to miss out on this jarring experience for so long but who knows, everyone is different.

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Sometimes I feel like stores conspire against me. Like the store knows when I’m coming and what I like at that given moment. “You’re obsessed with olive green right now, are you? Well, let me give you 3,000 different items in that color. Some even have floral patterns!” What am I the typical woman or something? (Yes, yes you are, says the home decor industry).

It took a while to stop staring at the young family that was having a lesson in store manners. You know, that family that clearly does everything the right way. The kind of family that makes you feel bad for not walking your dog the last two days. The mom just had her shit together. She was all, “I’m gonna stay super calm and wait for you to be done being a child,” to her husband while the children wailed about how unfair life was. And hey, they were right. At six years old, a saturday afternoon at Ikea is a Normal Rockwell painting with the caption “Life is unfair.” I was more concerned, however, with how this dad was going to make it through the day. He looked like he’d rather be golfing in North Carolina and who could blame him? (besides every child who grew up with absentee dads that went golfing in North Carolina.)

A few days later I went to the store Home Goods for the first time and WHAT THE SHIT. First of all, do reusable bag holders and spice racks that can hang on your pantry door exist? Because this store had everything minus those two items. Since when were fake bird cages so hip? How many versions of beachy end tables with scrubbed off paint exist? Because I want all of them.

Back to Ikea. Sometimes I find myself at random stores looking around at the people that work there wishing I had there life. I did not do this at Ikea. In no way did I want to be Marissa, stalking different color coasters while I beg her, “Are you SURE there are no olive green placemats left?” No, I would rather be any place but here.