Wait, I’m an Adult?

It is perfectly acceptable for a thirty-year-old woman to carry a wrist bag that looks like this:

Isn’t it? I think it’s much better than some gaudy designer bag (I’m looking at you, Coach, Gucci, and all you other craptastic bags) with unoriginal letter logos spewed all over it. Plus, I like cats. Also, I’m thirty.

29 Olives is a great little site I found recently while skimming through the Internet looking for cute things. The boutique promotes small, indie artists and designers and has (among other things) a really swell $15 and under gift section! (I love a bargain!) I think it’s one of my new favorite spots on the Internet. I especially love their selection of notecards and notepads.

And of course, the spider computer screen cleaner:

I’m telling you, the site makes me “Squee!” with joy. Lots and lots of joy.

But on to more important topics . . .

One of my absolute favorite childhood activities was playing office. Yes, I played office. Complete with my grandmother’s old office supplies, a computer than ran nothing but DOS, a very vivid imagination and a personal assistant (a secretary, if you will) who was none other than my cousin, Missy. Anyway, long story short, I just got a call at work from D telling me he just walked by two little girls in the neighborhood and THEY WERE TOTALLY PLAYING OFFICE! Outside, on the sidewalk. Complete with a desk and notecards and one bossy girl telling the other one to file something for her. Suddenly my boyfriend no longer thinks I’m crazy for playing office!

See! All along, I’ve been saying it’s totally normal to play office! Right? Shouldn’t little girls aspire to have careers, too, instead of solely dreaming about weddings and babies and Prince Charming?

I think so.

After all, if those girls don’t start practicing office life now, how will they know how to avoid doing work and sneakily browse the internet for cute animal purses when they’re thirty? It’s a skill, girls. Get busy.