About Me Photos Stunt 2007

Stuff in my bag

*This is a companion piece to a similarly-themed article on Karen’s site which, all things being equal, should be published at roughly the same time.*

The contents of my bag

The contents of my bag, which I purchased 3 months ago. You can buy one just like it from the National Trust if you so desire.

The contents of my bag

(Yes, the PNG is transparent, so you can overlay it on the JPG if you so desire).

1. The bag in question. It has lots of pockets – I count seven zips in total.
2. Moleskine notebook.
3. Uh, uh, papers, um, just papers, uh, you know, uh, my papers, business papers.
4. Diary. A6 Week-to-view diary, 13 months starting from July. I’ve been using this type of diary for three years now, and it seems to have become my “thing”.
5. Second camera again. Still a Pentax Optio S30. This is where it really lives. Observe the awesome hand-knitted pouch, created by the delectable Karen.
6. Car stereo fascia. It’s a Sony, about five years old. The FM tuner seems to be broken but it can still play CDs and receive traffic announcements, so replacing it isn’t high on my agenda.
7. Binoculars. Occasionally useful, which might surprise you.
8. Sturdy reusable plastic bag. Everyone should carry one of these.
9. Keys – house, car, bike lock, office.
10. Breath mints
11. Pens. I’m using one of the beige ones at the moment, but I think that it’s nearly run out.
12. 64MB Pen drive (rarely used)
13. Phone. Motorola Razr, nearly two years old. No plans to upgrade, at present. My ringtone is “Birdhouse In Your Soul” by They Might Be Giants.
14. Mini tripod
15. Loose change
16. Lip balm. I believe that this was purchase in Amsterdam in 2003. Ugh.
17. Wallet
18. Mag-lite

About Me

Emailing my mother

My mother sends me emails quite regularly. She clearly expects regular responses. I do my best to respond to the vast majority of her emails, pretty promptly.

And that’s okay, but the problem I have is one of content. Once I’ve answered any questions that she may have posed, I will start writing a little bit about what I’ve been doing lately. Which is generally a good thing, because it makes an email much more interesting to read.

But then I realise that one of the things that I’ve written could be misconstrued, as she does have very delicate feelings, and will take offence at the drop of a hat. So, to remove the risk of upsetting her, I will edit out the paragraph about the computer speakers that I’ve bought in the post-Christmas sales, because she may read it and think that I am implying that she failed as a mother by not buying me the computer speakers for Christmas.

And then I’ll edit out the paragraph about the nice Maglite torch that someone else bought for me for Christmas, as she may read it and think that I am implying that she has again failed me as a mother, for not buying me the torch herself.

And before you know it, I’ve edited my message down to the bare bones, facts and figures, no subjectivity, as if I were writing an email to a client at work. No risk. Because it wouldn’t be worth it.