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Monday January 2, 2006

Christmas Cruise 1: Off to a Roaring Start

Mildly Retarted? Baggage is the job for you. This cruise is going to be great. Where to begin. We had to leave for the airport at 5 AM to catch our 7 AM flight from BWI. I, not being a morning person, decided to pull an all nighter. I jammed my suitcase full of my clothes and gay christmas presents and we headed off. We all check our bags and go through security. My little sister is supposed to drive from Fairfax (1:15 away) and meet us at the airport. Once we get through security my older sister gets a frantic call from the little sister saying she forgot her passport and birth certificate. I chuckle because for once it's not me that fucked up (My track record includes forgetting my airplane tickets for BOTH spring breaks I went on, and booking Thanksgiving flights for my entire family on the wrong week). She turns around to drive back through morning rush hour, get her passport, and drive back to try and make a later flight and still make the ship leaving Orlando. Good freaking luck. I think this is awesome because I will no longer be #1 on my dad's shit list, and will take claim to the cash she would have gotten on the ship. I already know which number I'm going to put it all on at the casino in the Bahamas.

The rest of us get to our gate and have a good laugh, until my older sister's husband pulls out two passports, his new one and his old one. My older sister thought one of those was hers, and turns white because now she won't be able to get back in the country either. Two down. I give a good belly laugh and point in her face as I move up another notch. She boards the plane anyways with a 'plan' filled with holes so big I could drive a truck through it. She's going to try and use a faxed copy of a birth certificate. I hope Orlando is a cool place to hang out for 4 days.

We all get off the plane and head down to the baggage claim. All the bags come....except mine. Un fucking believable. I find this hard to believe because it weighed atleast 70 pounds; you couldn't misplace it without steroids. Plus, it was checked at the same time as everyone else's bags in my family. On all three of the last times I've been on an airplane, my bags have been lost. I particularly care about this time, because it's not like they're going to fly it out with a helicopter and drop it on the cruise ship. Ironically, I'm wearing shirt number 2 from the period in Blacksburg where I only had three shirts for two months, and I have a very bad feeling about the outcome of this situation.

So let's recap. I'm over 24 hours without sleep, my eyes are all bloodshot and sunken in like some junkie crackhead, and I'm having a nic-fit because my cigarettes are in my bag, which is LOST. Not to mention the faint din of "Feliz Navidad" on repeat in the background, slowly lulling me into insanity. Before I went and wrecked shop in the we-love-to-lose-your-baggage claim, I went to buy cigarettes. Did they have matches? No. Did they sell lighters? Nope. Flint and Steel? No, and I asked.

As I walked into the lost claim department, all shaky and tweaked out, I didn't know if I was going to spontaneously combust from rage or have a stroke from lack of sleep. I calmly explained my situation. The lady asked which cruise ship I was on. I told her it didn't really matter because it was going to leave in 4 hours and I knew she wasn't going to swim my bag out to it. I asked what their usual protocol in this situation was. You're going to love this. "We'll fly it out on BahamaAir." This is perfect. They're going to FLY MY BAG TO ANOTHER COUNTRY. Which, might I add, my ship won't even reach for two full days. Then, they're going to have some Bohemian junk monkey shuttle it from the airport to my cruise ship (which I know for a fact is about an hour away) without rummaging through it? No fucking way.
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