In my backpack, besides the necessary textbooks and occasional laptop, extant of the obligative pencil case and always wallet, I carry with me:
+ two Pilot P-500 pens, extra-fine, back-up in case my other three Pilot P-500s fail me or in the event Staples decides to discontinue (again) stocking the Only True Pen in the Known Universe, a fact that I know because you don’t just spend half of your high school life testing ink fluidities and line variations for nothing.
+ a pack of post-its, the small half-size sort, orange–which is unfortunate because I prefer the classic yellow or neon pink if absolutely imperative, but these were given as a gift and so I have to use them but mostly they look worn and warped and weary of two months travel in the front pocket without much play (yes, people gift me post-its).
+ four bobby pins, the usual black but actually quite miraculous seeing as with four bobby pins you can twist any amount of hair up into the perfect party bun, which is not only the latest Parisian trick but the answer to every bad hair day you’ve ever had.
+ two safety pins, the genesis of which I question but imagine will be a smart thing to have eventually.
+ a red pocket-size Moleskine, college-ruled, in which I write ideas when they strike (occasionally this actually happens) or notes on gathering the universe, like “Ernesto Miranda was killed in a knife fight. Police used a Miranda card from Miranda’s own pocket to read his killer’s rights.” And “The first typewriter was called a ‘literary piano.'” Or “What if you had a dramaturgue for your own life?” Which is a good question, because who doesn’t want someone exploring and researching and understanding all the ins and outs and throughs of what makes something work and succeed and shine?
+ my Oyster card for the London Underground. In case of emergency.
+ Burt’s Bees beeswax lip balm, classic Vitamin E + Peppermint because nothing else is ever so minty-fresh and moisturizing (do you hate that word as much as I do?), and also kissable because you just never know (really, you don’t).