In the Bag

This blogger has been on hiatus, as you may or may not have noticed. I've been sick. Physically sick, yes, but also sick of social networking and electronic media as a whole. I'm sure my apathy will lessen once summer is over and crappy weather sends me scurrying back into my hidey-hole, thus limiting my interactions with the outside world to the occupants of cyberspace. Fear not, young grasshoppers. I shall return.

My new phone is super cool.

With the touch of a button (or a few), I can access my email, check my Google calendar, and write myself a note (and set an alarm to remind myself of the note, if I'm feeling just that crazy). This insane new phenomenon has made my notebook idea all but obsolete. I'm not quite comfortable enough with these new-fangled mannerisms to lose the notebook just yet, so I'm still lugging it about. Which brings me to my new obsession.

I've been in search of The Perfect Bag.

Originally, I had a vision in my head of a messenger bag I owned once upon a time. I know this bag really existed because I vividly remember carrying it to and from the few college classes I actually showed up for. What I don't remember is getting rid of this bag, which I obviously did at some point because I've searched my house high and low and that thing just isn't there. Nor was the other messenger bag I used to own before I wrote my firstborn's name on it with a silver Sharpie and sent it with him to preschool. So either I went on a wild bag purge at some point, or the evil Messenger Bag Fairy paid us a visit. Either one is possible.

I started keeping my eyes open during my Target trips, but the selection of messenger bags was disappointing at best. I'm no fashion victim, but I'll be damned if I'm going to be seen in public sporting a Hannah Montana bag. I finally settled on a plainish gray and black model on sale at Target for a very attractive (read: cheap) price. But it just didn't work very well. The pockets weren't the right sizes (or in the right spots) for cell phone, keys, key card, etc. And it was a bit on the floppy side, where I need a bag that can hold its own.

When I got the September Real Simple in the mail last week, I read the editorial in the front and was happy to learn I'm not the only crazy person out there. There was the editor, telling a tale of her own quest for The Perfect Bag. And I'm paraphrasing here, but the general idea is the same:

It had to have plenty of pockets for wallet, keys, sunglasses, phone, and the like.

I'm with you.

I do a lot of reading at home, so it had to have a big interior pocket to carry files.

Ditto that.

It had to have handles that were short enough I could carry it without it dragging the ground, but long enough I could carry it over my shoulder.

Hear hear.

It needed a square bottom so it could stand by itself.

Are we looking for the same bag or what?!

Of course, she eventually found her Perfect Bag, but at a price high enough to require the handing over of plastic. I'm not willing to further damage my credit rating over a bag, even if it is a bag that can help dress me in the morning and make me a latte. Besides, I have bags all over my damn house. Surely one of them fit the profile. I started scouring closets and storage bins, running down the checklist in my head...

...and I found it.

The handles are sturdy, well-attached, and just the right length. The bottom is square and stable. There's a large central compartment with room for not one, but two, maybe three notebooks. There are also two small inside pockets, one large inside pocket with a Velcro closure, and another large inside pocket with a zipper. There is an open back pocket perfect for a file folder or two. There are two small pockets on the front with Velcro flap closures. And if you leave the bag unzipped, there are two small pockets on either side.

It's perfect. It's beautiful. It's Da Bomb.

It's a diaper bag.

Ironically enough, it's the first diaper bag I bought for the Toddler, before he was born. It was on clearance at Target for ten bucks. I think I used it twice before opting for a smaller diaper bag we received as a gift. I was going to use it as an "extra," but we had several premium bags mother-in-law snagged from her office. When the time came for a larger diaper bag, I started using the last one I bought for the firstborn (which is the Diaper Bag To End All Diaper Bags), so this bag has been hanging, unused, in the Toddler's room for so long, it still has Size 1 diapers in it.

Now it's free of diapers and butt paste and travel-size bottles of lotion, and full of my crap. I have a pocket for damn near everything. I'm happy, the Toddler's happy, my wallet is happy. I just hope it's not too obvious that my bag was designed to hold baby-shit disposal equipment. That would be awkward.