Just for my records, here is a list of what I believe was inside.
-Money ($39.60, I believe, $20 of which was hidden).
-Coles/Myer discount card.
-Possibly Flybuy’s card.
-Gosnells library card.
-Student card (with ~$8 of printing credit)
-Proof of Age card
-Photos of Bethi and I
-Discount vouchers for Timezone -sorry Craig :(
-Gametrader’s discount card.
-Student edge card
-Smartrider (~$1.00 credit left)
-Sticker of a puppy, held together with love.
Hm, seems I lost more than I thought. Most of it is replacable- I’ll be glad to get a new library card and smartrider. The student card, Coles discount card and Proof of Age card might be slightly harder to replace but the rest I’ll leave, methinks. Ah well, I was hoping for a wallet with a coin section anyway. Lately (these past few months, about a year perhaps) I’ve accepted faultless loss as inevitable and spent little energy mourning it. What cannot be changed will not be, but to avoid its repetition is a gift in itself. It’s sad that it happened, but not tragic and through little fault of my own. Ah well.
If only I could be as collected when I lose the opportunity to see Dragonball Evolution :P
Sorry for kicking up such a fuss today baby. I’m glad we got to spend time together, and I’d love to see it with you next week.
So after spending maybe an hour and a half getting home from Bethwyn’s, I met a man- Wilson- from Fiji at Claisebrook. He’d lost his passport at the station a few weeks ago but it was returned to him safely. With that, we chatted awhile and ended up talking about the different kind of people there are in the world. Almostly shyly he mentioned that Australia was much safer than where he was from- Fiji and South Africa. There the people used black magic to get back at one another. He told me a story about his close friend who had stolen from his brother. His brother had consulted a shaman who requested some soil from where the theif had stood, and from that cursed him to die. Within a week the man was dead. As Wilson was telling me this story he kept turning his head away and making a sound- Pah!- like he was spitting the evil words from his mouth. I myself felt like making the sign of the cross or exclaiming "Avert!" as they do in Earthsea to ward off evil. Wilson claimed he was a prophet- that the dead visited him in his dreams. He was a strong Christian, close to Jesus, and black magic could never harm him. And I believed him, too. Something about the seriousness of his voice, the conviction, cunning and reverence with which he spoke made me believe him. I should probably mention that I did smell alcohol from him and he did told me he liked to go clubbing which marred his credibility a little. But he had a cross tattooed on his forearm so that has to count for something.
All in all an eventful evening. Time to unwind, methinks. Take care y’all, and don’t go crying about spilt milk if the forces of the universe are bent on spilling it.