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Friday, July 16, 2004

The things we carry

I'm exhausted and caffeinated and my neck is hurting like a motherfucker. Thus, it is nearly impossible for me to put words together, but in an effort to be conscientous about the updating, I provide you with a look into what's inside my bag, and thus an idea of what's inside my head.

First, a description of my bag -- big enough to hold an entire life, but not too big to be unclassified as a purse. Hot pink in color, corderoy material, with a few smudges making the material look lived in. When I carry it -- which is pretty much all the time -- it hangs like a messenger bag, resting against my ass, a solid reminder of all the things I want and need to do.

And within it, you'll find:

  • pens (4)
  • mechanical pencil
  • honest-to-god Gucci sunglasses, found in a cafe by Das Roomie and bestowed upon me because they didn't fit her head
  • Alan Moore's Writing for Comics
  • glasses case (too small to fit the Gucci sunglasses)
  • checkbook
  • cigarette lighter with sunflower on it (despite the fact that I don't smoke)
  • three hair clips
  • cell phone
  • ticket stub for Anchorman
  • lipsticks (2, pink and fuschia)
  • Flash disc holding copies of po-mo rom-com, Girl Scout comic book script, and last month's Bookslut column
  • cell phone
  • flyer for college friend's rock show
  • this week's paycheck
  • paystub from last week's paycheck
  • Dark red knit square with heart pattern
  • ancient, decrepit notebook of story ideas, opening sentences, research notes, and funny doodles
  • Unnamed Studio security badge
  • Wizard People, Dear Reader (burned onto two CDs)
  • program from wedding attended three weeks ago
  • Creamy Coconut Nourishing Anti-Bacterial Hand Lotion
  • Wallet
  • Empty Altoids tin
  • Button advertising Get Your War On II by David Reese
  • Box of matches from The Fish Market in Palo Alto
  • Slaughterhouse Five, by Kurt Vonnegut

Man. No wonder it's so heavy.

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