Put me in Coach. No comma.
I tried to convince myself for a full 24 hours that I did not need a pewter metallic Coach handbag.
I failed.
I mean, it was on eBay for a SUPER low price and, y'know, pewter is a year-round color, really.
I wish I could say I feel guilty for splurging and spending as much on a bag as I pay for cell phone service (oh ho, now it's a mystery--does she spend way too much on cell phone service or did she get a really sweet deal?! Answer: REALLY SWEET DEAL). I don't. I feel zero guilt.
It fills the no-boyfriend gap in my heart nicely. This bag will never cheat on me. It will never leave the seat up. And it will never, ever fart in a closed-up room and then laugh. EVER.
I failed.
I mean, it was on eBay for a SUPER low price and, y'know, pewter is a year-round color, really.
I wish I could say I feel guilty for splurging and spending as much on a bag as I pay for cell phone service (oh ho, now it's a mystery--does she spend way too much on cell phone service or did she get a really sweet deal?! Answer: REALLY SWEET DEAL). I don't. I feel zero guilt.
It fills the no-boyfriend gap in my heart nicely. This bag will never cheat on me. It will never leave the seat up. And it will never, ever fart in a closed-up room and then laugh. EVER.