At home with her purse: Always room for one more

By: AGNES DIGGS - Staff Writer | Saturday, September 25, 2004 10:38 PM PDT ∞

I live inside my purse.

Well, maybe it's more like a home away from home.

At any rate, it contains most of what I can anticipate ever needing in the course of any given day, and then some.

When I open it to search for something, I'm often reminded of those little circus clown cars that seem bottomless, spilling an endless stream of contents.

I mention this because it's time for the annual fall purse purchase. Every year about this time, I begin the hunt for a moderately large leather bag that will hold a variety of things many women might never even think of carrying.

This is serious business. Summer purses can be light confections, designed more for looks than brains, so to speak. Room for a pen, a change purse and a reporters notebook, and I'm good to go.

But the fall bag must be sturdy as well as attractive, made for heavy lifting, able to take a punch, as it were.

Last year I got lucky during a trip to Los Angeles and found one with two inside compartments, several zippered slots and a flap that would remain closed with or without the use of the clasp. That's important when your job occasionally requires you to use a fast draw to pull out the tools of your trade.

The bag started its life with me as a slender, attractive accessory, but, as the season progressed, it soon filled with many pens, a couple of different-sized notebooks, highlighters, markers and two Ziploc bags ---- one for loose change and one for store receipts, in case I have to return a purchase.

It held a pair of socks ---- my feet hate being cold ---- toothbrush, breath mints, dental floss, a roll of antacids, house keys, miscellaneous keys, a padlock for my locker at the fitness center, a flashlight, reading glasses, a case for my sunglasses, my press identification cards, my employee identification, a couple of hair clips, a cell phone ...

This is just what I recall without looking inside, mind you.

A calendar, postage stamps, a small Bible, a comb, Post-It notes, business cards, hand cream, vitamins, a Swiss Army knife, aspirin, Kleenex, napkins, a pulp fiction book to read in case I get stuck waiting somewhere ...

And, of course, floating on the bottom, hairpins, safety pins, loose change, paper clips, hand wipes, Band-Aids, Chapstick, a nail clipper and an emery board. On occasion, all this is joined by a digital camera and the battery charger.

By spring, the poor thing looked like a small, shapeless version of Jabba the Hut from "Star Wars."

I hardly ever think about the contents unless I happen to be searching for something and see the situation through someone else's eyes as I rummage around blindly, mumbling to remind myself what I'm fumbling for.

I can hardly count the times a friend has asked for, say, a cold tablet, and, like a magician pulling multiple rabbits from a hat, I eventually produce the requested item from the chaos with a flourish. For which I got a thank you and a parting shot: "I knew you'd have it somewhere."

Once, while on assignment, I tossed my purse down on a chair and moved away. A lady asked me, "Aren't you afraid someone might grab it and run?"

No worries. First, I seldom carry money in it, other than the aforementioned change. And second, I believe it would be easy enough to find the perpetrator. Go directly to the nearest hospital emergency room and ask for a man who recently arrived stooped over and complaining of a severe hernia, and voila, we have our guy.

Sometimes, however, the bag's heft amazed even me. It was so heavy, I suspected there may have been squatters living in the bottom. Rents being what they are and all, I can't say I'd blame them.

Contact staff writer Agnes Diggs at (760) 740-3511 or adiggs@nctimes.com.

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