I am not sure if this has anything to do with the massive migraine episode I had over the past couple of days, but I woke up from 24 hours of intermittent sleep a changed woman.

Like, you know, *snaps fingers* this.

Maybe the 101 things that eluded me for the past couple of days with the migraine interfering with my cognition (which unfortunately, ewwwwwwww… includes a shower. I can never judge an European for missing a shower again) just came flooding into my mind once it got into gear this morning when I woke up, or that the migraine had altered some of my brain cells that brought upon this change.

Like the title suggests, I am quitting bags.

I would like to think I am a woman of few vices.

Like, say, an almost non-existent sex life, which I can almost fool myself into thinking that I am a virgin without involving any self-denial, until Minibean’s tantrums and sharp wits kinda reminded me that hormones once ran rampant in me.

Perhaps that reminder kinda kills off any trace of it, ha.

Never done drugs (I think…. unless you include times like sniffing in the air in Amsterdam which made me floatingly gigglish), and would insist on keeping it that way because as much as a weak-willed person as I am, I would always like to be in control of myself than allowing something else does the job for me… cos I will get morbidly fearful of getting reliant on things/people/substance…

Can’t do alcohol.

It’s a fucking gene-deficiency! The defective allele of ALDH2 and I think when most people have like 1 mutated copy of it, and I suspect (and ahem, this is after an “intellectual” talk with an intelligent friend of mine in microbiology field) I have 2 mutated copies of it, which explains why I not only black out from alcohol, but my alcohol tolerance is practically crap.

You think I enjoy seeing everyone high and happy when I am the only party-pooper remaining sober and can’t find a valid excuse/muster enough courage/be drunk enough to have beer-goggles to snog a hot guy at the corner of a party?

Tsk!

Neither can my body deal with effects of coffee. Loser alert.

Not a fan of shoes. Love my flats and boots and all things comfortable (which explains the lack of glamour).

So yes.

My vices.

Bags. To be fair, I don’t really have that many, I insist!

Travel. To be fair, I only travel once a year, honest!

Books. I find physical books irresistible.

Occasional fags. No excuses for this, except that they remind me of people. And moments of peace.

An unhealthy state of perpetual dreaminess.

Over-indulgence in decadent food (especially past midnight) which proves to the downfall of a soon-to-be 31-year-old body with slowed metabolism.

Fine, not so few vices afterall.

I am just awfully glad that on this recent Europe trip, there was no urge of lugging a nice bag home. I enjoy shopping for my friends and sashaying down the streets with boxy paper bags on my shoulders, but just don’t really seem to be having that unexplained phenomenon of “I GOTTA HAVE THAT SOME DAY….” when I see a 2.55.

Age not only kills off my mojo for men, and apparently bags too. The horror!

I woke up today feeling a need to de-clutter, and the depleting bank account since I got back from Europe doesn’t sit well with me.

I am seriously contemplating of ridding off the 1374 items sitting around the house and not contributing to the neatness of the household. It’s about time I kick them out and get some sort of rent back to contribute to something more.. well, meaningful.

Like, say, Minibean’s educational funds?

Or fine, even to my own should I want to like, you know, dabble in Italian or something. Totally random, watched La Vita e Bella last evening and in between tears (great, great movie), felt the urge to pick up my Italian again so if ever someone tells me “Sei bellissima donna“, I will actually remember that I had learnt that rather than quip a bimbotic “translation, please!”.

Of course, I did learn that when I was 24, but then as time passes, the possibility of someone saying that to you dips in the graph and you probably feel no need to remember when you are over the big three-zero.

Still, just in case.

And of course, coincidentally, a letter from Hertz came in the mail today and I find myself frustratingly seeking help from google translate, because it is a letter in Italian.

Maybe, it was a ticket from speeding in Florence… CHE CAZZO FAI!!!

I think the rules of the universe state that I should be picking up Italian again soon.

Which reminded me of an episode in Florence where I tried to use my pathetic Italian with a shopkeeper, which eventually led to him speaking to me in Italian, which surprisingly I could catch him asking if I was from Japan, and I replied, “io non sono giapponese, io sono cinese.”

And then he went on to illustrate how he had been to China.. which eventually I didn’t catch much of it and I had to tell him the cold hard truth that I didn’t speak Italian at all.

BUT… I had a 5 minutes conversation in Italian, I deserve a medal for that, methinks.

So yes, I am quitting some of my vices, which makes me feel like emptying my closet of clothes, books and bags so that I could start saving up for the bigger things in life.

And yes, that includes cutting down on the travelling, which I am sure will be the hardest to say no to, because what I learn and see on each trip, never fails to remind me how little do I really know. It’s always a humbling experience.

Which makes me want to do more for my parents and bring Minibean to more places.

So maybe I should really start acting on it and dig out all the things I have been hoarding and get rid of them once and for all and put the moolah into better use.

I mean, I hardly use them (poor bags), wear them (dressing up is a chore!), or read them (I only read my books once… but I can never bear to part with them!)… so the emotional attachment HAS TO GO.

Okay, baby steps, maybe. I shall start with stop buying them. Then when the time is right, I shall slowly wean off them and sell them away.

For now, I guess killing the lust for them is a good direction to start with. So, I deserve a pat on the back.

On a sidenote, the 2.55 is really kind classy and irresistible, don’t you agree……..? Maybe just one bag to replace them all…?