Transitions. Inside Transitions.

Spoiler: Prepare yourself for another one of my world famous rambling rants. Seriously, I really spend a lot of time explaining my thought process, while building up to a flimsily constructed and poorly formulated point. Usually I completely lose focus from my original intent during the course of the post. Welcome along for the ride!

Ok, now that the pleasantries are out of the way, onward with the topic.

On the radio this morning, there was a funny little discussion going on.

Ok, well, it wasn't, "Drop down, pee your pants" funny. I'm mentioning it because, unlike most mornings, I actually tuned my brain in long enough to follow - though briefly - the current minutia of a subject they were babbling about. It was more that what they were bantering about was mildly amusing, and made the little voice in my head chuckle, than anything shockingly political or world changing revealing.

Thinking back now, I do believe that for a moment my head may have shaken almost undetectably side-to-side a few times with a barely noticeable smirk that no other drivers would likely have detected - unless they were watching me with stalker-like eagle eyes. Which is a real fear my wife holds over my head where ever we go; assuming suspicious, judging eyes follow our every move, just waiting for one of us [i.e. ME] to do something embarrassing or criminal.

As usual, I digress. Surprise!

Well, as morning shows go, none tend to ever really hold my attention, at least not for very long. I don't ever tune in specifically just to listen to the faceless DJs ramble on about nothing in particular, nor do I usually find any pleasure in doing so. What they usually seem to attempt at passing off as humor, gossip, intelligent conversation, or entertainment in general, usually just ends up being nothing more than a slight buzzing background noise of uninteresting blather. Sometimes it's can't-change-the-station-fast-enough disgusting (you know who you are, givers), or mind-numbing-drown-out stupidity, or play-some-damned-MUSIC forcing a frustrated push of the "Off" button. But occasionally my mind tunes in and grabs some little tidbit to tickle my tiny subconscious child, whom then - in true kid-joke fashion - rides it all the way to ridiculous town into the forefront of my immediate attention.

The subject being talked about really seemed like a thinly masked attempt to get people to go to the radio station website and click on a "picture of the day" - going so far as to even ask folks to "like" it on Facebook, Re-Tweet it, or "+1" it on Google. I suppose you can't blame them for trying.

It was about women's purses. Yeah, fellas, I'm talking about PURSES!

More in particular, it was about the female radio host's purse, or pocketbook, or shoulder sack, or fashionable bag of unmentionable horrors - whatever you like to call it. In this instance it was more about the ridiculous contents of her purse. Namely, another purse.

A purse inside a purse. Like some kind of warped version of those disturbingly fascinating Russian nesting dolls (my mind really took this to internal visual links that I will spare you from the descriptions of).

Get your head around that?

That's what the other host - a male, 'natch - was trying to comprehend. Why, pray-tell, was there a purse inside of a purse? What logic was there to that, what reasoning?

Surprisingly, the girl had an answer (Or, maybe not surprising. Depends on your viewpoint, I suppose.).

She said, with an audibly perceptible nervous smirk on her face, that it was simply a transition purse.
I'm sorry, let me repeat and rephrase that.
She said she was "Transitioning" her purses.

She knew exactly how ridiculous it sounded, and yet she not only said it, but was prepared to defend her lunacy with an explanation.

You see, she had purchased a newer, bigger (supposedly more attractive?) purse - more like a bag or satchel, really - and had not yet had the time to transfer all her stuff from within the smaller purse, unto the larger one. So she just dropped it in. She lazily opened the new purse and "plunk", dropped the small one in like a sack full of k̶i̶t̶t̶e̶n̶s̶ stones into a well.

They even asked for the listeners to chime in and let them know if they had ever heard of such a thing. (Un)shockingly, to the surprise of the male host (that guy finds everything unfalteringly amazing), it was apparently not only common, but rather typical. Honestly, it was the first I had certainly heard of such a practice. [mental note: ask the wife later. And check her purses.]

Now, I'm not exactly an expert on purses, but exactly how much of an effort can it be to move all the little contents of one tiny purse into a larger, roomier purse? Even just to eek open a small purse and dump all the stuff into the thresh-hold like maw of a larger purse can't exactly require much planning. Let's not kid anyone, ladies, you are not fooling anyone; There is no order or organization to those purses. At least, not any that I've ever witnessed. My mismatched sock box has more order than most purses (yes, I have a mismatched sock BOX. Don't judge me.).However, you know, in some strange lazy way, I guess it makes sense.

Because that's what has the world come to; completely normal women, going around carrying large bags, filled with other smaller bags. This really attests to the greatest culmination of pure procrastination that humankind has ever achieved.
How far does this rabbit hole go exactly? Best we not pry, I suppose.

Aaaaany-hoozles.

At the end of the mind-numbing tirade of banter between the hosts (are they even called DJs anymore?) made it a point to inform the male listeners to make note of the word "transition". He specified that it should be used, from hence on forth, as a way to be lazy when your significant other (assuming a female, I suppose) asks you to do something, or asks if you did what they asked of you earlier; i.e. She: "did you mow the lawn today?", He: "Well, I filled the gas tank and am 'transitioning' to mowing the lawn at some point. Or, She: Are you ever going to marry me?, He: Well, our relationship thus far is still in transition.

Well, ok, so long story... um, longer... for whatever reason, that got me thinking. Thinking about that word, "transition". How does that apply to my life and the way I currently handle things? Truthfully, quiet aptly and accurately. I am a pretty bad procrastinator, and there are tons of projects that have been in "transition" in my home - and my life - that need to be completed or addressed more sooner, rather than later. And I am done with living like that. Thus, it is high time that I move on from the transitioning phase of so much in my life, into the finalizing and completing end result - so that I can not only feel accomplished (and actually have something to show for it), but also so that I can start other, newer phases and projects without adding to an ever mounting, never ending list of "To Do".

Like this blog post; It has gone on long enough.

Oh, and I have been thinking long and hard about possibly c̶h̶a̶n̶g̶i̶n̶g̶ transitioning this blog into something else; perhaps having to do with geeks, technology, gaming, and game related stuff. We'll see how long I procrastinate on that.

The End.