Hunting the Anderson Silva bag, and gathering the Magic

The semestral break finally kicked in.  Before we allow ourselves to be reminded of the amount of our work left undone, or of papers that will very nearly evolve into a sentient mountain, we made time to waste as happily as we could.

We spent hours looking at stuff we can't afford, as well as stuff that we can afford but did not buy for being too fluffy, big, useless (or all of the above).  

Except for two things.  Well, it was more like seven hundred and twenty-four things, but we can just call them two things.  The first one is a happy golden yellow backpack the color of fresh egg yolk.

It felt like a warm hug to be able to buy it, because this is the first backpack that I bought for myself. The bag I had in primary school was a red and gray hand-me-down from a cousin, and was subsequently and continuously impregnated with seven hundred and twenty-four textbooks and notebooks.  That bag lived for five years until I went to college, with a collection of patches and differently-colored stitches on its butt.  My mother got to know that bag intimately, for all the time and effort she spent on repairing it.

When that bag retired, it was replaced by a black and blue veteran from my brother-in-law.  That second bag was his bag from his college years, making it nearly two decades old, presently.  This bag didn't gain patches on its butt, mainly because that's precisely where its main zipper is located: its butt.  No matter that ergonomics died when that bag was spawned, it lasted me a good decade.  It was well-loved, and it was smirking that entire time I had to open and close it using its nethers.

And now I have this happy egg yolk bag, which I hope will last me just as long.  It is still beyond me, though, how I will keep it clean.  In the end we just hoped it would be imbued with Anderson Silva's spirit, to make it impenetrable even to dust.  Well, before Chris Weidman, anyway.

The second thing - or things - are Magic cards.  

I'm not certain now how it went, but it seems that one day three weeks before the finals we woke up and wanted to revisit an old game both of us played when we were in college. We started out by borrowing Pasco's friend's deck boxes, used them approximately two times, and decided to buy additional cards of our own. "Additional" quickly turned into "oh, about sixty cards each," which of course turned into seven hundred and twenty-three cards.  I would tell you all about the kinds we bought - and are still buying, but that would take up the time that you, dear reader, and myself, could spend wasting. Time spent hunting for stuff that makes us feel hugged, or feel like kids who grew up - is what semestral breaks are for, anyhow.