While we were returning from Ireland two days ago (geez, it seems like a month ago and a dream at that), one of my pieces of checked luggage didn't make it from Dublin to Chicago. Then it didn't make it from Chicago to Los Angeles. We filed a lost baggage report.
They told us that they try to get it back in 24 hours and would deliver it to our house. But all day yesterday, the airline kept showing status reports on the internet and over the phone of it continuing to be lost. The video camera you see to the left was in that bag but the good news is that, at the last minute, I stored the two tapes we'd shot in my carry-on and put the camera in the other bag that got checked. "It's only money" I reminded myself; I'd saved what was important, the memories.
I gave up hope of getting the bag back as the clock ran out on the first day. Then I got sad remembering that the luggage had all the t-shirts I'd bought in Ireland, including my two Rolling Stones Slane concert tees. It had some other stuff, too, that had some attachment, plus the bag was new. What really depressed me was the feeling that a robbery victim must have: you've been violated, and there's nothing anybody can do about it.
This morning it looks like they found the bag! Even though I've slept only a couple of hours from this topsy-turvy jet-lag, I'm wide awake and feeling fine. Over a few tee-shirts. Go figure...
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