Something Pithy Here

"Begin at the beginning, and go on till you come to the end: then stop." -- The King of Hearts

I'm an adopted Texan. As they say, "I wasn't born in Texas, but I got here as fast as I could!" I post pictures and opinions as suits my mood, mostly because I can. Hooray Internet! 

So far I have three blogs here. By the Way is the oldest. I started it in 2003. I lost a couple of years to Vox because I was too lazy to bother to export when they shut down. I consider it an exercise in accepting impermanence. When I followed my husband to Singapore for his first expat assignment, I started (T)expatriate: A Southern Girl in Singapore. That covers 2010 and 2011, give or take. Next came Oslo, and (T)expat 2: Norwegian Boogaloo,  in 2012. Now I'm back home, and back on By the Way.

Pix live on Flickr. I toss links out on Twitter when I feel like it. I'm still not sure what to do with G+ but I kinda like it.

 

It's a Girl Thing

Today I suffered through one of those horrible female rituals that is borne alone, in silence, with a forced smile on one's face. Yes, I bought a purse.

Egads, what torture. I despise purse-shopping with only one less ounce of my being than bra-shopping. (I have it on good authority that a boob job relieves the stress of bra-shopping, but I'm just not willing to go there.) Anyhow, as you may know, my current purse was ripped asunder during a recent dining experience. I have been holding it together with a big safety pin, but today that last-ditch effort finally gave way. The shopping trip could be postponed no longer.

I had been entertaining thoughts of a slightly larger bag this time around, as my current (oops, now previous) purse might be more accurately termed "pocket on a string." It can hold either my cell phone or my Elph, but not both. Ever since the Chester Cheeto incident[1] I've wanted to regularly carry my camera with me. But I am so not a luggage-bag person. Moving up from the index-card footprint is a Big (get it?) Decision.

Now, you also need to know that I'm a cheapskate when it comes to buying things I wish I could do without. The most expensive purse I've ever owned still came in well under $100, and I agonized for days over that purchase. I'm also clueless about this particular facet of fashion. (Some might extend that description to wardrobe in general, but I'm ignoring that for now.) So, with leaden heart, I headed to Marshall's to see what there was to see.

It turns out that discount-store handbags come in three flavors right now: lime, cotton candy and bubble-gum. (And why is bubble-gum blue? I never did understand that.) Once I got over that shock, I had to deal with the shapes du jour. These are: grocery sack, triangle and dachsund. Admittedly, the grocery sacks come in all sizes, from Trans-Atlantic Checked Baggage to Lipstick, but still, one false move and your used tissues and that-pink-plastic-wrap-isn't-fooling-anybody feminine necessaries are all over the floor. Being prone to false moves, that option was out. Some of the triangular bags were aesthetically pleasing, in an abstract sort of way, but the main problem with those is one of physics: teeny-tiny opening, capacious storage facility. Nope, it can already take me five minutes to fish my keys out of a bag that holds only one other item. That left the dachsunds. You know what I'm talking about. Sausage bags. Very "in" right now (or last week, at least) but very not me. The Fastest Lawyer in Houston? Yeah, she can carry anything from a dachsund to an emu and she looks fab. Me? Not so much.

So what did I end up with? I found an orange (let's just say ORANGE) triangle with a big mouth. Does it shout "me"? Well, no, but it does hold my cell phone and my camera, and not much else. We'll see how it goes.

[1] I recently installed some software that tracks referrer search strings, and one of the first hits was "Chester cheeto logos". That had me puzzled til I figured out that at one time, my index page included all of the following: references to my M1, a grackle, and the word blogosphere. I'm sure that's not what the searcher had in mind. This is why Google lets you use quote marks in your search terms.

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