suitcases, strappy red sandals and modern satirical angst

I've decided to resurrect two of my favorite blog entries from back in 2003 & 2004 when I had a xanga account. Enjoy. :)

November 20, 2003

"The most important quality in a man is whether or not he can carry your suitcases." ~ my grandmother

This was valuable knowledge passed on to me during a phone conversation with my grandmother this afternoon and I have to admit that it is important for a man to be able to carry my suitcases because Lord knows I can't . . .Haha. But I'd like to lay approximately 75% of the blame on suitcases themselves and their deceptive and oftentimes nasty little qualities. They pretend they have your best interests at heart: "oh look at all the roooom we have in here, come on, pack a few more things, we can take it." So, I pack and pack and pack and usually can get the suitcase closed without sitting on it. I then move on to suitcases #2 and #3. We're all getting along fine until it's time for the trip back home. When my back is turned while gathering my stuff for the return trip, the suitcases (with their evil and cruel intentions at heart) decide to shrink on me, therefore requiring me to a. sit, jump, or scream at them, or b. give a bewildered glance to my fellow travelers and insist that the suitcase shrunk and I DID NOT acquire more things on the trip.

These suitcases also make me look bad. They make me look like I CAN'T PACK or I'm one of THOSE PEOPLE. You know, the ones who pack a million things and have no packing skills or strategy. I have strategy. I do. It involves putting the stuff in my suitcase- in a lovingly and carefully arranged manner of course.

Now some people may argue, most of them probably men, that the real issue here is that I don't NEED all of this stuff. HA. My question to you is this: What if on our trip you got attacked by seagulls and were dying and the only way- THE ONLY WAY- to save your life was with a pair of sexy, red strappy sandals? You would be dagon glad that I packed my pair of sexy, red, strappy sandals to go with my red dress that I might wear that one night- maybe. If the necessity of something I pack is not immediately visible to you, just think "preparation." You never know if it will rain, or in this case, if you will be attacked by seagulls.

I hope whatever men come in my life will understand my philosophy on suitcases and packing and realize that truly, I am the victim here. I hope that they will lovingly say, "Let me hold those suitcases for you . . .no, of course they aren't too heavy . . . yes, yes, I understand what a brilliant mind it takes to pack the way you do."

October 20. 2004

Tonight's journal entry is brought to you by Modern Woman Satirical Angst (a term invented by the lovely author of this journal).

Modern women with satirical angst tend to be women who, when drop-kicked by the nuances of reality and trod on by the bastards of society, adopt a witty and piercing world-view as a method coping. They usually record their keen observations with humor in journals, or profess them voraciously over a latte or glass of wine amongst friends. Modern women with satirical angst tend to be culturally proficient, but this quality is not mandatory. Actually, failed attempts at being cultured are often quite handy in the furthering of said angst. Furthermore, most women of this nature were fixing their panty-hose in the bathroom when the "Gorgeous, Succesful, Intelligent, Overall-Perfect-Men" were passed out to the remaining women in the room, a.k.a. the "Overly Successful, Pretentious, That-Kind-Of-Beauty-Is-Unfair-And-Obviously-Fake" women that modern women with satirical angst like to despise. Quite often, due to the sadistic humor of circumstance, modern women with satirical angst end up making idiots of themselves in front of said pretentious and man-stealing women. But all is fodder for previously mentioned journals and diatribes.

~From a current Modern Woman With Satirical Angst in Training,

Kelly