Front pocket. We've got some cool money in here. A ten-dollar New Zealand note my mum brought back from, um, New Zealand. Their money is pretty ridiculous. It's got see-through bits. Yep, plural, multiple see-through little windows in it, because why the fuck not? (I'm going to end up blocked at school for weighted phrases and then I'll be really fucked)
Then we've got some Turkish ten-Lira notes. They're pretty and pink and have Atatürk on one side and some scientist and equations on the other. No windows, but still pretty nice. Especially compared to American money. Ugliest stuff in the world, I ask you, why?
There's also, let's see.... a blister-pack of Advil that's got three blisters punched out and one remaining. And two stray quarters.
Moving backwards to the Pocket With The Zip.
Shit, I had no idea this was where all my money was. I assumed it was in some dark recess of my camera case. We've got about sixty dollars cash (for food, see. I have to buy food), a tube of lip balm that claims to be nourishing and organic and, incidentally, is also made in New Zealand, and lots and lots of coins. These coins add up to: Five Lira and forty Kuruş (5.40 TL), sixty-two US cents and twenty-one pence. How exciting! Oh, and a broken rubbery earpiece bit from a set of Skullcandies.
All right, I've shoved all that back in there and zipped it back up. Now there's this big back pocket with all these slits for credit cards, though I don't know anyone who's got enough of any sort of card to fill them all up. What I have is a crumpled up receipt for some groceries at the one shop that's any sort of feasible distance from my school, my key card to get into the dorms (I was so pleased to find that a week or two ago - I'd been knocking for ages), a University of Maine library card that the English teacher passed out to us all, two Aerie awards cards that make me buy lots of underwear for slightly lower ridiculous prices on occasion, an AFS Turkey business card with their Ankara address, and ooh! Look, it's another receipt. It's for a half-gallon of semi-skimmed milk. How exciting! I remember buying that milk! I had to smack someone to stop him paying for it. Moving on....some dollar bills, some more coins....a Canadian cent. I think we're up to five currencies, aren't we?
In those actual slitty things where all those other cards should have been are a few card-shaped-ish things, too. There's a ride ticket from the fair. There's a student Müze Kart letting me into any public Turkish museum for free until Temmuz (July) 2011, and a card 'proving' that I'm a student at Ankara Üniversitesi. There's my old student ID from my old school, and my actual credit-debit-card thing.
Just one more pocket now.
It looks like these are mostly just folded up bits of paper from Turkey. A ticket for something, a receipt for something else. A couple emergency addresses/phone numbers, my International Student insurance card, and a sort of customs declaration thing. My wallet's not very feminine at all, is it? I mean, there's expired lip balm. But then there's just...shit. I guess the bra cards count for something,
This one's on my wall in the dorm. Robert Indiana is just fantastic. And I am going to meet him! Maybe. I'll tell you about that later.
So, only two nights ago, I was introduced to Torchwood. I know. I KNOW! I'm English, for god's sake. And I love the Doctor, but Captain Jack is something else. I'm not ashamed to tell you that he's replaced Kapadokia as my desktop image.
Now, there was champagne involved in this weekend, which is the Only Reason some of these might be a bit blurry. Let's start with my birthday cakes. Yeah, plural. One was a triple-layer chocolate ginger cake with ginger whipped cream and ginger ganache, and the other was (and still is - I had the most marvelous breakfast) a gingerbread apple upside down cake. I can't decide which I liked better. Both recipes were from Smitten Kitchen, my favourite food and photo blog of all time, but I'll post them separately, with my desperately-bereft-of-buttermilk adaptations, next post. I'm getting better at keeping next-post promises, aren't I?
So, not beautiful pictures, but you get the idea. And what wonderful ideas they were...
These were actually the night before. But whatever.
Oh, Christ, this is shaping up to be a really long post and somebody's going to murder me tomorrow for being so tired. So I'll stop here - cake's all that really matters anyway, right?