Survey: What's In Your Purse?

I'm speaking this week at a women's event, and the theme is "What's in your purse". As I prepare the devotional, I'm curious to know what other women carry in their purses.

So here's the survey: What's in your purse, and what's in there that you can't leave home without? Just post a comment with your answer.

Thanks!

The Kid did it

Police in Rochester NY have taken a student into custody this afternoon because he allegedly had a gun in school. That's upsetting, for sure, and police are still looking for the gun, if in fact the student actually had it.

What I want to know is this: when did journalists start calling suspects who are minors "kid"?

The story at 13WHAM reads in part:

Rochester Police have found the kid believed to have a gun at Charlotte High School Thursday morning. Police picked the kid up on the east side of the city, but still haven't located the gun he believed to have. He is being taken downtown to the Public Safety Building, where he will likely be charged.

Shouldn't that read "found the student" instead of "the kid"? That phrase isn't in keeping with the non-biased reporting the journalist should be engaged in. Unless "the kid" is his moniker, in which case it should be capped, as in Sammy The Kid. And I think that second sentence is missing a word.

I know, I know, there are more important things to worry about than sloppy journalism, like the fact that a student may have had a gun in school. But sometimes the soapbox is there and I just have to jump up on it.

Poor Baby Bird

OK, I'm totally grossed out right now. I was in the back yard and Scout and Bandit were chasing squirrels up the tree. As the rodents got higher and higher, more and more stuff fell from the branches above - nuts, leaves, bark, sticks. And then a baby bird.

A BABY BIRD! Plop, thud, right at my feet.

EEEEWWW.

I thought it was dead, so I got the pooper scooper to pick it up, and then it moved. EEEEWWWW! The poor thing is still alive!! I have no idea what to do with it but I'm totally freaked out. I called my neighbor Flow, who used to work at a vet's office, to see if she could tell me what to do, but she wasn't home. David's on his way home, though.

Postscript: The bird was still alive the next morning, and after calling my vet for a referral to someone who could care for it, I took it to Eastridge Animal Hospital, one of the few that take wildlife. They're caring for it and will let it loose when it's healthy.

I'm too tired to be tired

The good thing about being a freelance writer is that it gives me flexibility to work when I want. The bad thing is that in order to make money, I need to write stuff that doesn't thrill me that much.

In fact, I'd go so far as so say that I'm tired of what I'm writing. I love following American Idol, and believe me, American Idol has been very, very good to me. The only reason I'm making money blogging at Bnet is because Idol is a hot topic.

But I have to confess that there are other things I'd rather be writing, most of it random nonsense about my life, my dogs, and what I'm learning about God and how I'm wasting my life doing nothing, and how those last two things are more and more coming into conflict.

Instead, I have to do a couple of book reviews, and sift through dozens of new CDs and transcribe a gazillion interview tapes and write a music column. It's not that I don't enjoy it; once I actually get myself going I can usually work up some enthusiasm. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that my creativity is in short supply lately and I'd rather stare at the CD pile than open anything, let alone actually listen to music.

Part of is because I'm just tired. I mean, exhausted, fatigued, drained, pooped out, tired. Bandit gets up at 6 am every morning, and he goes like a wind up toy for a couple of hours and then crashes. By the time he crashes, though, it's too late for me to go to back to bed; I have to get some work done. While I can work when I want, I do have deadlines and people waiting on me.

The other problem is that while I want to be obedient to God and write what I know he's giving me, I'm not feeling inspired or fulfilled. It's not God's fault, of course. We're supposed to be obedient whether we're inspired or not.

It's my own fault, for not doing more to recharge my spiritual batteries. For a variety of reasons, I'm not currently plugged into a church. My job situation means I spend a lot of time alone with dogs and a cat and more and more I find that I'd much rather it be that way.

I think what I need is a few days to do nothing, sit around and read, catch some sun, nap, take the dogs for walks, etc. without an assignment hanging over my head. It seems like I just finish one thing and another is waiting.

Or maybe I just need a good night's sleep. Bandit is going in to get neutered in a month or so and has to stay at the vet's two nights. Hopefully, I can hold out that long, and then I'll have two full night's sleep.

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