Pick Me! Pick Me! Uh . . . NOT

The holidays are upon us once again!  Decorations are going up, bright lights and colorful bulbs adorn the trees, people are out and about shopping and everyone is in the mood for festive celebrations complete with lots of food and drink!  This is the time of year when happiness, good will and cheer abundantly flow; it is also the time of year when certain people drink too much egg nog and evidently lose their sensibilities . . . . 

Why just this past week, I've been formally invited to not one but two purse parties. So that means that not one but two people need to lay off of the holiday cheer already.  What in the hell does one do at a purse party?  I've never heard of such a thing!  I hadn't a clue so I inquired and almost immediately wish that I hadn't.  Apparently, it's a "girls" get together where you may browse through quite an array of higher end purses and purchase them at deep, once-in-a-lifetime discounts. 

Here is how one of these parties works:  All of the "girls" meet up at someone's house, eat, drink, and socialize all the while shopping for a purse.  Oh yes!  Pick me!  Pick me! I would love to go because I know so much about purses.  In fact, just the other day I was saying that I can hardly wait until my purse wears out so that I can go to one of these parties and treat myself to a brand new one.  Now that I think about it, I just might go ahead and purchase two because you can't have enough purses.  There's nothing more dreadful than being invited out somewhere and not having the right purse; the mere thought keeps me awake at night.  

Are these people out of their fucking MINDS?  What is it about ME that would remotely suggest that I might fit in let alone actually enjoy one of these events?  LOOK AT ME!  It's like inviting the Spartans to a tu-tu party.  Some things just don't go together very well; myself and purses are one of them.  I look ridiculous carrying a purse; so I don't.  My own mother gave me grief about it for years on end to no avail.  My beloved grandmother went so far as to buy me a purse for Christmas one year and all but threatened my life if I didn't carry it.  I thanked her kindly, promptly threw it into my closet and never thought about it again.  Every time that I went to visit her she inquired about that dumb purse.  After twenty years . . . she finally gave up!

Here's the bottom line -- I don't carry purses.  I don't like purses.  And I certainly don't go to purse parties.  So, if you happen to see me walking down the street carrying a purse, seek shelter because it's a sure sign that the world is coming to an abrupt and immediate END!

Comments

[N]

The poet is bach...

To some it's a curse
to carry a purse.
They'd rather haul it,
In a fine leather wallet.

[Christine]

Nancy, my dear, lay off of the drugs! HA! HA! HA! Cute poem though . . . I gotta admit.

[Elise]

I totally agree that you should not carry a purse. But, if you have to put that cocktail dress on again and need to carry something, how about a man-bag?

[Laurie]

I can't see you with a purse either -- doesn't suit your personality!

[Christine]

Kiss my ass Elise. I don't want a "murse" either! I have a gym bag.

You're RIGHT Laurie; it doesn't suit me AT ALL.

[Elise]

A "murse." I like it. Goes with your man pants, aka, "mants."

[Christine]

The correct spelling is "mantz." And I LOVE THEM!

[Cori]

You always look stunning in your Fanny pack/ Belly bag (gag).

[Christine]

OMG! That's funny Cori! I have a picture of me with my AWESOME purple "Gold's Gym" belly bag; I'll send it to you! And I agree . . . GAG! HA! HA! HA! (It was a low point in my fashionable existance.)

[Shana]

A PURSE party? hehehehehe! I'd pay to see it!