Big borrowed suitcase

In my apartment there sits a GINORMOUS, world-traveling suitcase on wheels.  The bottom of it is caked in a fine mist of dust from Uzbekistan, from when Poppy was wheeling it through the dirt roads on her Peace Corps travels.  This luggage has lived, guys. 

I went to her apartment to pick it up the other night, after we saw Fahrenheit 9/11 (rock!), and she went through the pockets first and discovered all sorts of forgotten little things.  Like snapshots and stickers and chunks of Central Asian soil.  While I'm in Salt Lake City I think I'll sprinkle some smelly lake water on it, to balance out the elements.  (If you're into that kind of thing, which I'm not.  I just think it would be another badge of honor for the suitcase.)