Showing posts with label stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stuff. Show all posts

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Charming charms

I have a disease called cute-itis. It makes you use cute things even if you're just a little too old for them already. Take bag and gadgets charms for example. My friends' charms have colored stones and beads and look elegant. Mine? Uh, cartoon animals?

My cellphone charm is half a heart and Minnie Mouse, and is one part of a pair. Guess who has the other half.

My alma mater's mascot is a blue eagle and I couldn't resist this charm when I saw it in the university bookstore. It's an eaglet on what's supposed to be a bracelet, but I hang him on my (current) everyday bag. Not very professional looking, I admit, but I think he's adorable! And he's only a centimeter high. Just between you and me though, I think he looks more like a blue penguin than a blue eagle.

This little mint green teddy bear is actually pretty big for a bag charm. But he's my birthday bear. The sole of one foot is stitched with the date of my birthday (sorry—I forgot to position the foot properly). My sister and three nieces each have one too. How can I not use it? I removed the key holder and attached him to the zipper of my work bag, along with mini train cards from Tokyo—mementos of a visit to my sister and her family when they were living there. One of them supposedly has the name of the station nearest my sister's home, but since I can't read Japanese characters, I just have to trust her on it.


Now, I have two questions for you:
  1. Do you have cute-itis?
  2. Do you use bag and gadget charms?

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Keys and more

I've been planning to write a piece about hand bags because of what my girl friends did the two times we went shopping together this past month. But I read Chey's blog this morning, which is about the contents of her hand bag and it got me to thinking about mine, and I realized that the heaviest item in it is my key chain. (I'll write about my bag OC-ness and frustrations some other time.)



The key chain itself is a keepsake from the 75th anniversary of the Walt Disney company (how long ago was that? I don't remember now) with four rings attached to the central holder. On the Cheshire Cat ring are my house keys—for the front door and the kitchen door. On the Dumbo ring is the key to our bedroom.

Tinkerbelle holds the spare key to the car (my husband has only left his key in the ignition maybe once or twice, thank goodness) and my mag light, a present from one of my brothers-in-law. I love this flashlight! The light is wonderfully bright for such an itsy-bitsy thing, and best of all, it never turns on accidentally while it's in my bag. It has a push-button switch at the base, covered with rubber, and it takes a pretty hard push to turn it on. I've gone through two previous flashlights for my key chain already, both of which I discarded because the switches would slide on inside my bag. And what's it for? Seeing keyholes in the dark mostly—the car door in the parking lot, and the kitchen knob when someone forgets to turn on the stoop light. The short-cut from my office building to the parking lot is pretty dark too, so it really comes in handy.

The last ring, Pinocchio, doesn't even hold a key. He has my tiny eyeglass screwdriver which has both a flat and a Phillips head for just in case, and a small Swiss Army knife. This one has only four pull-outs (aside from the tweezers and the toothpick, both of which I hardly ever use): bottle-opener/Phillips screwdriver, knife, nail file/flat screwdriver, and scissors. This little tool has saved many an event and situation, believe me.

This heavy key chain is also my security blanket when I'm going home alone at night. I loop the strap (it belongs to the mag light) around my wrist, and hold the key chain in a fist with the rings and keys hanging through my fingers. If I can take even a single swing against a would-be attacker, it's going to hurt awfully. It may just be fancy on my part, of course, and I'm really, really glad that I've never had to find out.

Oh, and my office keys—they're in another key chain.