It’s My Bag, Baby

Funny how sometimes little insignificant things are so pleasing. Like my new bag. I am pleased as punch with it.

I am going to Thailand in less than a week, so I wanted something that zips up, and something that slings over my shoulder and crosses my torso. Pick-pocketing and bag-snatching are apparently the two significant dangers I have to watch out for there. And I wanted something big enough to hold my usual wallet, cellphone, keys, hairbrush essentials, plus my sweet little baby-sized laptop and maybe a book or two so I can take it on the aeroplane. But I didn’t want something so enormous that I felt like I should be delivering papers out of it.

It turns out the sort of bag I wanted is very unfashionable at the moment. I was willing to pay quite a bit of money for the right bag, and I was searching in all sorts of high-end stores to no avail. In the end I found it in the most unlikely little shop that mostly sold cheap jewellery. 15 bucks for everything I wanted with a cool kinda rock-chick aesthetic. Pleased as punch, I am.

This has been an entry of mind-numbing detail about my new bag, because I’m trying not to think too hard about the fact that it is now less than a week till I fly away to a strange country, where I know no one and don’t speak the language and have to try to negotiate my way around. Every time I get a little freaked out about going to Thailand, I look at my bag and think, ‘It’s OK. I have an awesome bag.’

Oh my god, I’m going to Thailand!! I’ve had One Night in Bangkok stuck in my head for the past three weeks. Actually, I’m having three nights in Bangkok before heading up north to historical Chiang Mai. This is all a bit whimsical and I really don’t know what to expect or exactly what I’m going to do there. Get spa treatments, see pandas in the zoo, go to markets and hold snakes, I imagine. It’s all such an adventure.