my true love gave to me:
Seems that my true love, the hotband, managed to bring everyones suitcase out to the car...and not mine. We boarded the plane. We got to Esther's. I went to get into my pajamas. No bag. I look through all the bags. None are mine. We check the claim check. Five bags checked. We had six.
My suitcase is sitting right next to the front door of my house.
I spent the whole first night here crying and calling the hotband all sorts of expletives that I will not divulge here. My shoes. My jewelry. My bags...oh my GAWD my beatiful Prada bag...home, in Florida. My Jimmy Choo boots bought especially for New York. In Florida. I am miserable. I am in the same bra, underwear and jeans I wore last night. I did, however, manage to finagle a shirt out of my daughter.
In other stories, I got stopped by security. Apparently, when we were moving, I tossed my vibrator into my overnight back to pack it and bring it to the new house. When I packed my toiletries for this trip, I neglected to remove it. When my bags went through security, my vibrator turned on and began to buzz. They swept my bag away to a private area to search it. They removed my vibrator, removed the battteries and then, put it back into my bag. The guy on the X=ray machine just sort of smirked at me.
Whatever. So far, my trip is sucking.