It's In the Bag

It's really hard to get used to new stuff. Like purses, for instance.

There is always a great struggle within me when it is time to buy a new purse. See, I'm the type of girl who builds a committed relationship with one handbag over time, and I rarely, if ever, switch out to coordinate with outfits through the duration of said partnership.

No, I'm the girl who carried her battered leather lime green wallet purse to the club, the grocery store, and the doctor's office for six months no matter what shoes I happened to be wearing for each outing.

To save myself from feeling like a complete fashion mutant today, I might tell myself that I look "eclectic" when I carry my olive and lilac colored cloth tote while wearing a red-orange sweater. But, I know deep down inside that this combination is tacky.

Is it possible, that I am just not as accepting of change and variety as I have imagined myself to be all of these years?

Sure, I talk a big game about being a progressive thinker, and on large-scale issues that only indirectly affect me, I am. When it comes to the little, everyday things, however, I can be as obstinate and impetuous as a small child.

I hate the idea of changing shampoo or deodorant, and I will stand at the hygiene aisle and agonize for eons trying to decide if "Spring Breeze" or "Orange Blossom" is a more pleasing fragrance. When I go to a restaurant, I rarely try something that falls outside of pasta, soup, or mexican criteria. I am much more inclined to pick from the "favorites" on a menu, rather than the "specials," because, well, that title alone just reeks of controversy. Interestingly enough, though, when I do move away from my safe zone, I find that I usually enjoy the experience, and gain some sort of insight from it, no matter how trivial or monumental. I am not picky in a conventional sense, but I am resistant to the idea of breaking a routine or, as I have stated previously in more blunt terms, lazy.

All this strange talk about change and regrettable fashion decisions comes as I am moving my old blog here to Blogger. I am trying to learn all about this new format and its tons of features, and I have to say that it has been rather frustrating at times. Thank goodness for my husband. He created some really cool custom art for me, and pretty much set up all the features on here. This page would look like one of those bad pharmaceutical ads (a generic flower here, some vague text there) if not for him, and I probably would have given up on trying something new, as I am not exactly known for my tenacity or determination.

To get going, I brought over some of my old posts a few days ago, and I told myself that I would delete the old blog after I posted a new entry here. Metaphorically speaking, I have put all my belongings into my new, snazzy Blogger shoulder bag and I am finally taking it out for a test run. Cheesy, I know.

With that in mind, however, please give me some time to get comfortable with my new "accessory". If I fumble a little over the next post or two, or I can't find new comments immediately, it's probably because I lack the familiarity and confidence that came from that old comfy spot I used to inhabit in the blogosphere. So stick around; I might grow on you...kinda like that hobo bag you thought was hideous the first time you saw it, but now, you're starting to see the function of it.

Very soon, I won't be so concerned about what is "appropriate" and "correct," and I can get back to the sometimes tacky and mismatched style that I try to make my own. This is my "Hey there, check me out!!" to all you readers, old and new, and I hope that you will let me know what you think...just don't compare me to one of those god-awful sparkly sequin purses they sell at mall kiosks, my frail ego couldn't take that.

RD