So we just got back from nine days in Massachusetts. I was going to write about our upcoming trip (including a very funny, prolonged misunderstanding of Jarrah's that we were visiting Fitchburg) but then I figured I shouldn't announce on the internet that our home was going to be vacant, even though we really don't have much to steal.
Anyway, we got back last night, and had a wonderful time. The main reason for the trip was my 20th reunion at Smith (that's right, Readers--I'm old) but we expanded on that. David was amazed how I was able to pad a three-day event, but I always have been known for embellishment. We included a few days in the Pioneer Valley and another few days in Boston and Marshfield, where my friend Sue and her family live.
My emotional response to reconnecting with so many dear friends (all of whom I've known over 20 years) cannot be described, even by someone as eloquent as me. I will be sharing some highlights (and lowlights) of the adventure over the next few days, but for now I'll just tell you that, while we are home, our blue suitcase is still on vacation.
This particular blue suitcase has already been all over China (it even took two separate trips from San Diego, once with our friends Melissa and Bill) and to Columbus, OH. Apparently, it craves the open road, because when we arrived at the baggage carousel last night, all of our stuff was there except it. On the carousel a few feet away, a single bag was forlornly circling, and wouldn't you know? It matched ours. I smelled a conspiracy right away, and tried desperately to sway the agents to my side. "Don't you see?" I shrieked. "The same bag! And it's alone! Clearly, someone picked up ours instead!" But I might as well have been shrieking "DON'T GO! IT'S A COOKBOOK!" for all the response I got. They just kept saying that the other bag was with Hawaiian Airlines, and we had been on American, so there couldn't be a connection. "But don't you see???" I shrieked again. "The carousels are mere feet from each other!" Meanwhile, Jarrah was interrupting constantly to tell me that "My lollipop is too sharp! Too sharp!" Hey, everyone's got their priorities.
I was certain we'd never see the bag again, and by the time we got in the cab, I was resigned to that fate. I spent today makeup-less. So I was quite surprised to receive a voice mail late this afternoon saying the bag would be on a 6:20 flight. The rest was muffled.
When there'd been no further updates by 8:00, David called, and was on the phone a long time. When he got off, he said, "The bag will be here tomorrow. It went to Charles de Gaulle." World-traveler that I am, I know that Charles de Gaulle is in Paris. I felt a stab of jealousy. I want to go to Paris!
As I write, the bag has apparently made it as far as Dallas-Ft. Worth (another fine destination of which I haven't had the pleasure) but won't head to San Diego until tomorrow.
Meanwhile, it's probably out having barbecue and line-dancing, busting its zippers with glee because it didn't have to come home, like us, and like that poor sap, the black suitcase.