Adia sent me a link to the totally affordable* Kate Spade Arabella Maya, made of … python.

It definitely wins best disclaimer award in the realm of purses:
“please note: due to state law, california residents are unable to order items made with python.”

I love my state full of animal rights activists.

*For those who don’t understand sarcasm (which apparently constitutes a lot of people on the Internet), “totally affordable” in the above reference is A JOKE. I would not spend $1,495 on a purse. I do not buy designer purses everyday. Maybe every month**. Go away. Please stop sending me hate mail about my fucking budget. As the comments on that post indicate, this is actually what Manhattan costs. I am not making this up. Someone be my boyfriend and buy me dinner. Oh god, I’m going to starve.

**In total seriousness, I really only splurge when I land a decent freelance assignment and I never blow my entire paycheck. The largest amount I’ve spent in one outing this semester was $400 and this is because a completely incompetent Kate Spade clerk overcharged me. Then Bank of America/my mother/the useless piece of plastic in my wallet got all pissy on my ass.

Remember that spontaneous trip to New York I took for President’s Day weekend last month? I just got my credit card bill and it’s starting to hurt.

Besides the $145 phone bill (which I have no excuse for considering domestic calling), I dropped some major change on travel (try two pairs of plane tickets and five bus tickets). I don’t even want to examine my Restaurant Week damage. Two meals at OM and dinner at 33 were $100+ in one week alone. Plus, I’ve been grabbing Thai and sushi all the time. Definitely no more meals out in Cambridge.

Thank god for the money I’ve been making on freelance assignments. If I can get my ass in gear, I’ll be earning about $800/month, which combined with allowance, will barely pay rent in New York this summer.

Then again, I’m living with someone who’s about as low-maintenance as a BMW. This girl says she’s “cool with anything.” As long as we don’t live in Brooklyn. Or on a lower floor. Or share bedrooms. Or pet-sit.

Right.

If we’re going to make our two-bedroom arrangement work on an intern’s budget, we’re either living in Brooklyn or I’m going to have to sell my panties.

Buyers?