The Baggage gods hate me. I mean they REALLY HATE me.
Two weeks ago, my luggage got lost between Salt Lake and Rome (causing me to miss my next flight to Jerusalem). It finally arrived six days later. One suitcase was dented in, but I was not about to complain. The spirit of Christmas and of wearing two shirts and one pair of pants for a week straight made me quick to forgive and quick to want to burn my old clothes. Also I was happy to be able to deliver my Christmas presents of powdered sugar and bacon bits to my parents.
Yesterday I tempted fate again and flew from Rome to Chicago. I picked up my bags in Chicago and took them through customs before rechecking them (minus the Italian orange, which was confiscated from me with white gloves). Unfortunately, my next flight's departure time had been moved up and they were done boarding by the time I arrived. Those Chicagoans have no mercy. Not even for a super tired mommy and trooper 2-month-old baby. To add insult to injury, I got tagged for the extra special security feel down. Dang Italian orange.
Perhaps the airline agent saw me offering desperate prayers in line to rebook my flight, because after clicking away for at least 20 minutes, he was able to get me a standby ticket on a later flight with a different airline. I spent a nervous two hours wondering if my ticket would pan out (since the flight was overbooked by12 people, and I was down to one more diaper for Lily), and almost cried of happiness when they handed me a boarding pass with my seat on it. Never mind that it was a middle seat in the back of the plane next to a teenage boy who was rather squeamish about Lily's interest in nursing. I was headed home! God bless the USA.
True to form, my bags failed to appear when we arrived in Salt Lake. I flew on Alitalia (Rome to Chicago), checked my bags with Delta (in Chicago), flew on American Airlines (Chicago to Salt Lake), and found my traveling partner's bags had arrived on United, and mine were not in anyone's computer system.
Today I picked up Mark, Sage, and Eliza from the airport, and Mark's bags were missing and Eliza's suitcase was ripped.
I think I will not travel again for a very, very, very long time. The peanuts are just not worth it.
(I can certainly appreciate these two blog entries.)
11 comments:
Ah me...Maybe you're getting your turn over for the rest of your life? I hope so. --Mom
Muzeltof (spelling?!) and Welcome Home! And thanks a whole, whole bunch for your posts these past weeks. I've loved every single one. And I'll bet the TSA man really enjoyed that Italian orange when break time rolled around!
You poor thing! Thanks for the carving you sent with Mark, I loved it. Glad the girls made it home and I hope your bags arrive soon!
Wait - you mean to tell me you got complementary peanuts on your flight? And you're complaining?
Just kidding. It sounds horrific. I am amazed that you even undertook such a trip! I'm glad you're home safely, and hopefully your luggage emerges soon ...
Oh dear. We're glad you made it back in one piece, even if your bags didn't.
Thanks for blogging while on your trip~I could spy on Jordan and Becca vicariously! I traveled with 3 under the age of 5 across the country with no husband. NO ONE helped me and people actually complained that my baby cried on takeoff! I'll tell you the rest of the story when I come to Utah when Bec delivers! Can't imagine doing it half way across the world with only one diaper to spare! -Cindy
You are amazing!!! I would have cried! Thank goodness for nursing-boobs! Easy to carry, always warm and ready, instant comfort and nourishment for babies, even if teenage boys are squeamish!
Loved your posts! Glad you are back safe.
hey janel, it's your cousin, sarah. glad to see you guys made it back ok, crazy stuff going on back there!
ps i haven't been around you and your fam much in the last...oh 7 years or so! but your blog posts make me feel like you live next door, too funny!
well, when we were in israel, i sure was glad your suitcases arrived--i was getting sick of that purple shirt.
I'm pretty sure the only way to appease the luggage gods is to offer a sacrifice of a purse annually. Don't feel bad; a lot of people don't know about that rule.
Of course the peanuts are worth it. I wish I was sitting next to you and the squeamish teenage boy! Oh wow, good thing you didn't get your luggage at the mall.
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