Me when I was five or six. (A normal play day, not Halloween.) photo-shopped onto a picture of my Indian when I first bought it, and captioned, "Cowgirl gets her Indian"I guess I started to write a new post last night and only got an "m" typed when I hit post by accident, but didn't realize it, so there you have it. Slip actually made a very funny comment considering!
Whenever I'm wondering what to post about I can't think of anything. Nothing, yet I know that I could literally write a post about anything, and make it fun. Why is it so hard when I sit down to do it. Let's explore my anxiety about writing...nah, that sounds like a snorefest! What a monumentally stupid idea. Instead I'll tell you an entertaining little story about myself as a child, that may have altered my sense of self, or not.
When I was young, probably...five, I liked to play with things like 'hot wheels' and tonka trucks and GI Joe, and cap-guns, and stuff you find outside, like bugs, and rocks. Yes, I actually sought bugs out! I would go behind the garden in the corner of the back yard, where there were piles of wet leaves laying around, and carefully pull them apart looking for bugs, and I found 'em. You could also find them under rocks etc. I found praying mantises, centipedes and walking sticks, and all kinds of cool things, then I would watch them, but they never seemed to do enough to hold my attention for long.
I also loved rocks, we had a lot of rocks in our yard, and I would find the interesting ones and take them to my boulder sticking out of the ground a little. I would place the new rock on the boulder and then with a bigger "smashing rock", I would smash it! I called this activity "smashing rocks" and I would announce it like I was going to work. "Okay, I'll be out back smashing rocks."
I liked to see what was inside them. We had a lot of quartz around and I liked those a lot.
One evening, my parents had some friends over to play cards, as they did once or twice a week. It was shortly after Christmas, so I began to run into the kitchen where they were all seated to show the Terva's my presents. They would oooh and ahhh, and I would go get the next thing. After doing this for a while, I grabbed a red purse, my mother had retired and given to me. When I showed it to them, they asked, "Did you get that for Christmas?"
"No, but I like it" I answered. Gales of laughter rang out from everyone. I didn't understand what was so funny about that! I went back to my room in a huff, and decided not to show them anything else. Serves them right!
How did this affect me? For years I refused to carry a purse.
I do carry one now, and it's red, but it's canvas and it's made by Vitorinox, and has lots of pockets, and I call it my "man-bag". Okay, maybe it didn't affect me at all, but it was fun to tell.
18 comments:
Hahahaaa! Oh "man-bag". Still one of my favourite expressions after all these years.
LOVE the cowgirl picture.
roro, Thanks. Yeehah!
i told my son-in-law we wanted to get mr. ryan a pocketbook for his little crayons.
he thought about it for a moment and said, "no pocketbook for my son....but a manbag would be ok".
oh jeez. "oh, ok, fine, sure. a manbag. fine."
:)
I won't lie...I may have had the same purse and it may have also affected my sense of self.
Edit: If I didn't have it, I'm sure I wanted one. Let's cry together in red purse group therapy.
kj, yes, when will you be picking out Ryan's new crayon clutch?!
benjamin, welcome to my blog! and to "the survivors of red purse trauma and/or drama"!
Tool Boxes, canvas totes, folding hand trucks,brief cases, but alas no man bag! I feel a bit left out.
slip, There's still time. You could have one eventually...don't lose hope.
I was that kid, too - catching tadpoles to raise in a jar, grubbing in the dirt, you name it. And I have a decided issue with purses, so my compromise is a very small (about a 5" square and flat) one that just carries the essential cards and cash. But even so, I typically stick it under the seat of my car and stuff a credit card in my pocket and clip the car key on my belt.
(And have you seen "The World's Fastest Indian" with Anthony Hopkins? It's wonderful.)
citizen, It doesn't surprise me at all, that you were that kind of kid. I think we are alike in a lot of ways. I did see that movie, and you're right. It's wonderful.
I wish we could have known each other as kids. I could have given you my Barbies, and you could have given me your Kens. Preferably, without clothing.
johah, Welcome, thanks for visiting. After checking out your blog, I've added you to my reading list. I enjoy your humor and your writing style very much.
I'm afraid I would not have wanted your barbies. I scoffed at All things girlie, as a kid.
I have a man bag that my wife calls a purse just to piss me off. I wasn't much of a collector as a kid, but I think it would have been fun to know you then and see the stuff you lugged around.
I carry bags and purses that match my shoes or shirt when I go to work or travel, unfortunately I am so forgetful. I often leave my purses in my office because I don't think of them as essential accesories. I like pants with lots of pockets like army pants. I like very big bags which explains why I have back and shouder pain.
samokdaddy, thanks for stopping in. The stuff I lug around now, is probably more interesting! I'm sorry your wife teases you about your purse.
ces,well, as a child I did love my red stride-rites, so my bag and shoes did match!
Ha! Well, you were a cute little girl and very adorable in that cowgirl outfit.
Man bags...are wrong!! You should have a utility belt like Batman instead.
Ces, Thank you, although back then, that was no "cowgirl" outfit, that would have included a fringed skirt!
ve, I do have one of those when I'm working, it has a place for my hammer, a measuring tape, a pencil, a bullet level, some screws or nails, and other stuff I need that day. Neat!
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