Project Purse Dump: Romance Author Jessica Cale

Project Purse Dump: #RestorationRomance Author Jessica Cale

Guest post by historical romance author Jessica Cale.

 

Twenty-two lipsticks. Eleven bottlecaps. Seven black pens. Five magnets. Three tins of Altoids. Hello Kitty bandaids. A Mucha compact mirror from Paris, and a coin from House on the Rock.

These are a few of things I found this week when I emptied my purse out onto the floor.

In my defense, it is a very large purse. I have a few you might call “sensible” purses, brightly colored leather with understated embellishments and clever pockets, but the one I keep returning to is an oversized, flimsy thing I got at World Market for I think $8. It’s grey and it has crows on it. Size aside, it’s fairly nondescript, and goes well with my worn out jeans and band t-shirt aesthetic, plus I can fit half a library (and a hoodie!) into it should the occasion call for it. All of the things you see here were in it on a day that it was fairly empty, apart from my cat there, but he could have fit into it, too.

So what’s inside? It’s a kind of survival kit, plus a few extra bits and pieces I picked up along the way. Let’s take a closer look.

Sept 25 - Purse - Jessica Cale

The essentials:

Seven black pens and two packs of post-its: I usually also carry a notebook full of graph paper with me for story ideas, but post-its and pens will do in a pinch. If I get story ideas–anything from bits of dialogue to major plot points–I write them on post its and stick them to the cards in my coin purse if I don’t have a notebook handy. Apparently I can also write notes on my phone, but this still feels too futuristic for me most days, and I usually forget.

Makeup: I don’t intentionally have twenty-two lipsticks on me at all times, it’s just that they gather in my purse. I don’t have any anywhere else in my house. I have them in my purse, in the coin purse inside, and more inside the Union Jack makeup bag. This makeup bag also contains hair pins, more ponytail holders than I have anywhere else, two eyeliners (one black, one purple), face powder, blush, mascara, orange scented roll on perfume, and a souvenir Mucha makeup mirror I got in Paris ten years ago. Because you never. fucking. know. Some days you just need eyeliner, and lots of it. I once loaned one of my friends a fire engine red Stila lipstick to write down her number for a random guy, and a couple years later, loaned the same lipstick to another friend when he was hosting punk rock karaoke as a kinky sailor. Who wore it better? My vote’s on Dave.

Coin purse: I haven’t carried a wallet in many years. In Britain, coins are far more common than paper bills, so carrying a coin purse was far more practical. I’ve been back in the states for a couple of years now, but I still carry the same coin purse I bought at New Look for a pound almost ten years ago. Today it’s full of all of my cards, some random change, a spare set of earbuds, post-its covered in story ideas, a customs declaration, a list of Edith Piaf songs (really), a guitar pick, some fortunes from cookies (“Don’t put off till tomorrow what can be enjoyed today…” in bed (snicker), hair pins, and more lipstick. Could you fit all of that into a wallet? Didn’t think so.

A coin from The House on Rock: How else will I make the crazy music play?

Randoms:

Bottlecaps and magnets: Okay, there’s a reason for this, I promise. My friend Lily gave these to me a couple of weeks ago so I could make some bottlecap magnets for my fridge. She made some and they look awesome, so I’m going to give it a shot.

Three tins of altoids: Why have three when one should be curiously strong enough? None of these are actually mine. My husband keeps buying them and asking me to hold them, so I put them in my purse. He forgets they’re there and buys more, asks me to hold them, and voila. Three tins. Can I offer you a mint?

Not pictured: The phone I use to obsessively ignore my email and ogle pictures of macarons on Instagram, my work badge, and my keys.

This might seem like a lot, but if you need to be minty or photo-ready, I’ve got your back. You know, just in case.

About Jessica Cale:

Jessica Cale is a recovering journalist writing historical romances out of a grey bedroom in North Carolina. Originally from Minnesota, she lived in Wales for several years where she earned a BA in History and an MFA in Creative Writing while climbing castles and photographing mines for history magazines. She kidnapped (“married”) her very own British prince (close enough) and is enjoying her happily ever after with him in a place where no one understands his accent. You can visit her at www.authorjessicacale.com.

You can find Jessica here:

Website: http://www.authorjessicacale.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorjessicacale

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JessicaCale @JessicaCale

Google+:  https://plus.google.com/u/0/+JessicaCaleWrites

Tumblr: http://authorjessicacale.tumblr.com/

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/rainbowcarnage

Instagram: skittles_and_smut

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Jessica-Cale/e/B00PVDV9EW/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9819997.Jessica_Cale

 

 

 

 

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Project Purse Dump: September 18, 2015 Tracey Gee

Purse

I’m so meta. You can see, in the background, this blog posting as it’s being written.

Project Purse Dump: September 18, 2015

Welcome to Week 1 of Project Purse Dump. I get to go first only so I can give the other wonderful people who’ve signed up a chance to get their blogs ready. Mine will be the dullest purse, I’m sure.

First of all, I don’t carry a purse. That alone is a blog post (not really, that would be cruel). I’m a backpack kinda gal and have been for about 30 years. I have come to the following two conclusions about this:

  1. It’s better for my body.
  2. I’m a Libra and hate to be unbalanced.

And here’s my stash, once more, with feeling:


 PurseDump-Notes

Here’s the tale of the tape, minus the tape.

A. The two most essential drugs/supplements in my life, after Xylometazoline: Acetaminophen and Lactaid®. They go with me, everywhere.

B. I live in Canada. And like most Canucks, I have a dizzying array of Tim Cards. Neither of these has any money on it. Bummer.

C. Boring. My wallet and coin purse.

D. Double-boring. My water bottle. You never know when you’ll be stranded and need water. One day, I’ll blog about my struggle (mostly over now, phew) with OCD. Not fake OCD, the real deal.

E. My blood donor reminder card. I went last week. Yay! Cookies!

F. Ok, now we have a story. This is my ultra-cool Swiss Army knife. I’ve carried one forever. The best thing about this one (my second in 30+ years, first one was stolen)? I was in Geneva once a long long time ago and got locked in a public toilet. For years I wondered what on earth would I ever do with a fish scaler. Seriously? Me? I’m at two with Nature.

Then I went to Geneva. Things to know about many parts of Europe? Pay toilets. Things to know about this particular pay toilet in Geneve?

  1. If you catch the door before it closes and you haven’t put any coins in (I didn’t have any, I wasn’t being cheap, just desperate), you will be LOCKED IN THE TOILET.
  2. A lot of the public toilets are floor-to-ceiling walls for the cubicles. That means, they aren’t really cubicles. They’re tiny rooms.
  3. There is a drug problem in some parts of Europe and in some public toilets (even in really nice places), they use black light so those wanting to find a vein can’t do so.

So you get the idea: I was locked in a very dark tiny room in Switzerland. And I have a train to catch (once I find the train station) because I’m heading to Italy (the food’s better).

Oh, did I mention I’m claustrophobic?

 And did I mention there is little-to-no sympathy for North Americans travelling in Europe without change for the toilet? That’s just an aside.

In panic, I rifled through my knapsack and dug up my Swiss Army knife and tried a few things before hitting the fish scaler and voila! I was in Milan later that same day eating farfalle al funghi, the morning just a bad memory.

G. My teeny phone. I live on my teeny phone. Mummy loves her teeny phone. It’s an HTC Desire C and I have three of them.  No. Really. All I need: email, WhatsApp, and Instagram. It possibly works as a phone, too.

H. A watch. Yes. It’s true. I wear a watch. I hate having to look at my phone for the time because I don’t want to look like one of those people who owns 3 HTC Desire C phones.

I. My comb. Just in case I get a moment to actually comb my hair. That happened in 2014, and I look forward to it happening again this fiscal.

J. What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t have my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle gel pen?

K. Don’t laugh. It’s the schedule for the Y by my house. I circle classes on it (which I never attend).

L. My only cosmetic: lip balm. That’s it.

M. My key chain. See that carabiner clip? I hang my keys on my bra strap. It’s the only way I can find my keys. I never keep them in my purse except when I’m NOT out. That spine on my key chain? That from my evil chiropractor. It’s a great ice breaker.

N. My teeny tiny travel New Testament, Psalms, and Proverbs. Because you  never know when you need a quiet moment with God.

About Tracey Gee

Sept 18 - Headshot - Tracey Gee

Bright light! Bright light! (Sure, you saw Gremlins, didn’t you?)

I’m a crabby old bat. Easily distracted. Portly, perimenopausal, whiffy yet whimsical. I keep the BFG 9000 in my girdle. In my spare time, I eat stress. Lots of it.

I’m the O/O of LOVExtra.com, my newest binary baby who’s about to turn one, this November. My personal blog is the aptly named Old Enough and Ugly Enough. Oh wait, it’s THIS blog. 🙂

I’m trying desperately to write a book which is worthy of a publisher’s notice.  In the absence of that, I play piano and classical guitar—badly—and go to Zumba. My own true love.

I eschew malls.

 

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