But back to may favorite part about the weekend, which is getting home from work and loading up one of my six backpacks. Sometimes we don't even go anywhere, but if we did, I'd be prepared for anything. Like swimming (a pair of board shorts or two, sunscreen and Chapstick) or a night hike (flashlight, moister-wicking socks and electrolytes) or even the movies (two jackets, one for me and one because my fave will forget hers). And best of all, I can carry all of this with my hands free to wander and roam where ever they like and have the piece of mind of knowing exactly which pocket my harmonica rests in for easy access.
Jealous yet? My fave obviously isn't — I just took a quick tally of purses suspended in her closet. I counted 16 before it hit me that we probably aren't as compatible as I once thought. Worst of all, not a backpack to be found. However, I did stumble upon my electric guitar case, which also doubles as a backpack and brings my count to 7. As it turns out, I am the jealous one because if I had over 16 backpacks the world would be just one big trail map waiting for my two-wheeled arrival.
Instead of lashing out I've decided to handle this maturely, and since my fave is way ahead in the purse to backpack ratio, I would have to make a creative comeback. So I took these 13 or so purses:
|13 or so purses (PandP)|
And stuffed them into one of my favorite packs.
|One of my favorite packs filled with 13 or so purses. (PandP)|
And as you can see:
|Newly discovered closet space. (PandP)|
And please for the sake of utility, the next time you see hipsters (they travel in herds) with messenger bags, ask them, "what's in the purse hipsters? Diapers?"