My plane landed at 12:33 p.m. My bag was checked in at 12:40. I walked straight to baggage claim, and proceeded to wait for my bag. For an hour.
My bag never came. I have yet to receive a call telling me it was a) recovered b) returned by someone confused traveler who doesn't know what their bag looks like or realize that it was probably too heavy to really be theirs.
Monday morning, I had to go shopping to replace things I no longer owned and couldn't live without. I bought:
- $50 worth of makeup.
-contact solution
-deodorant
-hair stuff
-a toothbrush (yeah. my pink electric toothbrush is mia. sad.)
To still be replaced:
-four pairs of jeans
-new bras & underwear
-undershirts. a black lacy one, three white ones that I loved, and an assortment of colors from Nordstrom.
-a camera charger
-my favorite workout/dance/everything pants. booo.
-pretty much all my newest tops (which essentially makes them my favorite ones.)
-boots. my favorite ones too.
-my vans & flats.
So, dear SLC Airport, I have come to this conclusion.
I don't care if I get my bag back anymore. No need to stress yourself out trying to find this mysterious piece of luggage.
Please just reimburse me promptly for approximately $800, and we'll be even. I am willing to spend the hassle of running around trying to replace everything, no worries. After all, I do love to shop.
Gratefully,
Leah Marie
song: big shout-out to care, who made me listen to this song today. Little Song: The Secret Handshake. soooo cute.
however, this post wouldn't be accurate if I didn't tell you I've been listening to Half of My Heart & Assassin by John Mayer, literally non-stop. loves.
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