Some people call it a "Man-Bag." Some call it a "Murse." I need no masculine qualifier. It's a purse and I'm proud to call it by its proper name.
That's my purse. Well, its not specifically mine, but mine looks the same without the extra-geeky book accouterments. I do, however have several geeky accouterments contained in my purse such as a bluetooth GPS receiver, a 1/4 terabyte portable hard drive, a blackberry, a TYTN, a groovy bluetooth headset, and my own personal pharmaceutical department. I discovered after several years of emptying my pockets that I simply carry too much crap around. And after coming home from work and emptying my pockets, I felt liberated and free, like a homosexual in San Fransisco. Perhaps this imagery is what prompted me to explore the convenience and Uber-chicness of the purse.
I've been carrying for about a month now and I can tell you that in my quaint little Southern state, I'm definitely out of the ordinary. Striding into the grocery store with my purse slinged over my shoulder draws glances and curious gazes. I can read on some people faces, "where's his wife?" and "her purse certainly is butch." But, I don't care. I have all the toys I need with me at given moment. I'm totally prepared to blog at any given second with an attached geotagged digital photo. Plus I have ibuprofen available for my back aches which are caused from the strain created on my spine from the 20 pound bag that carries my ibuprofen. Ironic, huh?