On July 22nd, my friend and I took a much-needed vacation to Jamaica. It was B-E-A-UTIFUL and very fun. Even if it WAS sans luggage.
We arrived in Jamaica at about 12:30 a.m. on July 23rd. Yes, we were late. Blame it on my terrible "luck" (or what is the opposite of luck? Curse?) in traveling. The plane to Jamaica was delayed due to the airplane having a cracked windshield...
?
When have you EVER heard of a plane getting a cracked windshield?
As we approached the baggage claim area in Jamaica, I couldn't see my bag.
It was one of those moments like when you walk out of a store and look at where you think you parked your car and it's not there. Aka, a Panic Attack. Turns out, Delta told me, that someone stole my luggage from the Baggage Claim area. It had been scanned in, but once it got out to the floor, they no longer could find it anywhere.
I was DEVASTATED.
I mean, BAWLING. It doesn't help a situation like this to actually have Panic Disorder, and the drugs to help you NOT have an attack are in the aforementioned M.I.A. luggage.
Meh.
Life goes on.
I didn't let it ruin my trip. I'm not too attached to physical things. I AM, however, quite sentimental about the littlest things. This sock, that bra, these swimswims... all have great stories behind them.
Fast-forward to last night, August 31st.
It's 9:45 P.M. and I'm leaving class, and see that I have a missed call and a voicemail. I'm walking with friends mind you. It's funny how you can multi-task on certain activities in some situations and not others. I.e., I'm perfectly capable of walking, listening to voicemails, and carrying on conversations with people I'm walking with.
However, once this voicemail started, I had to come to a HAULT!!!!
It was a lady from Delta.
They had located my luggage, and they were going to send it out for delivery immediately.
I bawl almost hysterically.
Then, I speed home.
I'm going through stashes of purses and nooks and crannies trying to find the key to the lock to my suitcase. What if they bring it to me, and it still has the lock on it, and I have no way of opening it?? THAT would be my "Luck" (curse?)
Waiting.
Sitting, waiting, wishing, hoping. Isn't that a song?
Go lay down on my bed.
...
Next thing I know, the guy is ringing my doorbell at 1:02 A.M. ? Where the heck has he been?
When I opened the door, the guy had left it standing on end in front of my door, and already was getting back in the elevator.
Like, “I’m just going to leave this here. I don’t care if the lady didn’t hear me knock and if anyone steals it. This broad has been without this shiz for over a month”.
I stared dotingly at my bag.
Oh, I love you, Bag.
I pulled it in to my apartment, unzipped all the pouches, and noticed that nothing seemed to be missing (except key exterior items; ie, a lock, a zipper pull, my name placard).
I went into the bathroom, took a Klonopin and a bath, and went to bed.
This morning I woke up and pulled everything out individually.
My black dress.
I pulled it out, held it up in front of me by the shoulders, stared at it admiringly with my head tilted to the side and stars in my eyes, then pulled it in to my chest and gave it an extraordinarily loving hug. * Muah* Black Dress.
My Rainbows.
Black ones. and Tan ones.
Ironically, my backordered replacement Black Rainbows should be delivered today. Sigh. I had to work so hard and wait so long to get these replacements. Do I just turn around and return them?
I tried the left one of each on, because I already had my boot on my right foot. I wanted to wear my black ones to work today.
My swimswims.
My swimswims. : ( I had put them all in a plastic grocery bag when packing. Thinking of all the moments and pictures I wish I had been wearing them instead of my too-small, cheaply-made obligatory purchases made me upset, so I did NOT pull them out and love them. I will do that tonight. Because the pool in my complex is open again.
My jewelry.
Oh, you sexy ivory bangle, you. But not real ivory. That’s cruel. But it looks like it. Looks great with sexy jeans and a black top.
And miscellaneous earrings. Hoopies and Turquoise danglies. Oh, you guys are just too much. Who could live without you?
Necklaces! You get on my neck RIGHT this instant! Oh, my jade-beaded necklace. I wore you to Club Jam only a week before I left, where a gay man asked me if you were a real “Pearl Necklace”. We both giggled. Yes, you did too, Jade-beaded necklace.
My skirts, sundresses, and swimswim wraps.
You were each dearly missed. I’m saddened at the thought of loss of usage over the past month during other excursions.
Next year, sexy black Victoria’s Secret Swimswim Cover-up-- I say as I shake my finger at it-- Next year.
... Unless, of course, I can talk Delta in to giving me a flight somewhere warm and sunny where I can wear my stuff all over again. Then, maybe sooner. : )
But with my traveling luck/curse, I'm not going to plan on it.
The beginning picture of this post is one I took on our way hiking through random Jamaican jungle. I found the self-made fencing beautiful in a way. Little did I know, that behind that shanty of a wall, was this breath-taking natural crystal-clear spring.
In life, you just don't know what's hiding behind third-world shanty fences...
And today, I feel a complete contentness with the Universe.
Thank you, Karma.
