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Enjoy.
June 5th, still at the airport
I know I frequently overreact, but I think this is the only proper response given the situation I am in.
They lost my Vuitton bag. That's right. Airline lost my Vuitton bag. I am without my Vuitton bag. But since this sounds so superficial for someone who insists that the only thing that matters is what's inside, guess what else I am without?
Oh, just a pair of skinny jeans, a few shirts, my wallet which included my CREDIT CARD, and my CELL PHONE.
Which only means that I cannot call home and tell Mum what happened. OR remind her to feed Louie.
And, of course, that I am broke. Minus those 30 bucks that I kept in my small bag, I am broke.
You'll say, hey, that's not that bad. I mean, my connecting flight to Tsukuba is already paid for, and so is my return ticket to New York. With money I have I can easily survive even if Michael shuts the door in front of my face (Which, obviously, he will).
Well, then there's the second part of the problem.
I missed my connecting flight to Tsukuba. And all flights for the rest of the week are full. My already paid for ticket to Tsukuba is pretty much useless.
And I can't call home and tell Mum that.
So, basically, this gives me two options – I either go all Tom Hanks and camp in this airport till a seat to Tsukuba opens/it's time for me to fly back home or I go to Tsukuba by train. The latter might be slightly problematic given my financial status.
So, you see, I have no reason to freak out at all.
AT ALL.
And the worst thing is, it is not even my fault that I missed my connecting flight! I was waiting for my luggage, like everyone else, and finally my red suitcase came and it felt totally normal. Then I waited and waited and bags stopped coming and I was still without my Vuitton!
For someone who had never ever taken a commercial flight before, guess what was a complete mystery to me? You're right, what to do when they lose your bag. So I just stood there looking around like a mad woman, feeling tears gathering in my eyes. Grandmere has prepared me for TONS of different situations, from dealing with an autograph seeker, finding a bug in your soup during formal event, to hiding a hole in your sock and how to hide a bad breath. Of course, she never said anything about dealing with your bags lost at the airport. Probably because royals never take commercial flights but always fly with private jets. It has never ever happened that the crew lost any piece of Grandmere's luggage (and trust me, she always takes a lot of bags which is totally scary for me since I know what exactly brought Aaliyah's plane down); if they did, I am pretty sure Grandmere would have them killed.
I went to the airline's baggage counter. After 15 minutes of waiting (how can they be such a popular airline IF THEY ARE LOSING PEOPLE'S BAGS?) a lady behind the counter asked to see the luggage receipt for the bag. After staring blankly at her I just gave her all the papers I got before I boarded the plane.
I think she noticed how freaked out I was.
"Don't worry, honey," she smiled, "it is probably just delayed. You'll get it in no time."
I ALMOST believed that when she typed the information into the computer. I actually thought things would be fine when her face went all dark.
"WHAT?" I screamed.
"Well… hmmm …" she went and looked at her co-worker nearby. "I'm sorry to say but looks like your bag was mistakenly sent to Costa Rica."
At first I thought she meant some other airport in Japan but then I realized.
"COSTA RICA? AS IF COSTA RICA IN SOUTH AMERICA?"
"I am sorry, honey. Could you please fill in this form…"
"But that's like on ANOTHER CONTINENT!" I shouted.
"You have your nametag on the bag, right? You'll get it back, don't worry…"
"But I need it now! I am in Japan! I NEED MY BAG!"
I don't care if I am supposed to be a mature woman now; I screamed like a kid whose lollipop falls onto the floor. You know, the kid who is old enough to know not to pick it up and lick it anyway.
I knew the lady did nothing wrong but I was so freaked out I just could not calm down.
I mean, really, can you BELIEVE my luck?
One of the airline employees sat me down and gave me some juice while talking calmly. She said the bag would be sent to my home as soon as they find it. Which, I mean, is very nice but I AM IN JAPAN!
I finally realized how stupid I must have looked, crying in the middle of the airport and screaming 'I am in Japan' over and over. You'd think one would be happy to be at their desired destination but all I wanted was my bed and food with lots of calories.
Or proteins.
I held back the tears and filled in the form, said thank you (the juice was good) and then I went to the bathroom. Where I cried my eyes out again – well, at least they were less people and less chances of someone taking a photo of hysterical girl and tweeting it. With my luck somebody would totally recognized me and Times would have the headline 'Princess Mia seen crying at the Japanese airport'. Surely the reporters aren't dumb enough not to figure out what I would be doing in Japan – AND alone. I don't even want to think of how Dad and Grandmere would react.
Though I would probably never find out. I would rather kill myself than live knowing Michael saw pictures of me crying in Japan.
And then between sobs I finally remembered that I was supposed to catch my connecting flight.
When things go wrong, you just can't catch a break.
I ran as fast as I could but the flight was already off the ground. It took me a whole hour to find out that all upcoming flights to Tsukuba were already booked.
Great. Just how many boys went off to Tsukuba this week to change the world and left their girlfriends heartbroken? Am I not alone in this pain? We should totally set up a support group. Though given my 'nine months later' experience I don't think I would be that good of a supporter. All I'd do is just kill all the optimism and hope they might still have.
But really. What will I do?
I have no idea.
June 5th, still at the airport
Well, I did the only rational thing.
I went to the first McDonald's I found, ordered hamburger and fries and totally filled my veins with fat.
And you know what?
It made me feel better.
Until this guy tripped while walking into my direction and the coke he was holding, got spilt all over my t shirt.
It is happening quite often, actually, especially since I got this new haircut. I don't know why they think I am so horrible they lose their ability to walk normally. I mean, with this hair color and length and with that 020 Maroon lipstick, matching top and yellow-brownish scarf I think I look just fine.
The guy started apologizing like crazy but I just kept on smiling and saying it is ok. The longer the people stared, the more chances they were of me being recognized.
So I excused myself, went back to the bathroom (maybe bathroom and I are soulmates? I certainly am spending a lot of time in random bathrooms since pretty much ever) and changed the shirt.
Since I only got one shirt left, maybe staying at the airport, waiting to go home/finally get a seat on flight to Tsukuba is not the best idea. Not if I don't want to walk around with coke spilt all over me.
So … I guess I have no other chance but to somehow go to Tsukuba.
Great. I don't even know where Tsukuba is. How am I supposed to know how to get there?
If I was supposed to go by plane, then I guess I can't exactly walk there. So ... train or bus it is.
How am I gonna get there with less than 30 dollars?
Seriously.
June 5th, still at the airport
I am not sure how many hours ahead of New York this place is but I don't think this excuses my Mum from answering the phone when I wasted my precious money and called home.
June 5th, still at the airport
I found the tourist bureau and people there were actually happy to help me.
I asked them how could I get to Tsukuba and they said train is the best option. And you know what? JAPAN HAS THE COOLEST PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION EVER! I totally had enough money to buy the return ticket! Ha!
Well … it did leave me with less than five dollars to spare but I will deal with this problem after Michael throws me out of his apartment.
Now I have to go find the train station.
June 5th, somewhere
I know those people at tourist office drew me a map how to get to train station but I think I just got lost. There are so many streets and traffics lights and … I mean, I am sure New York has more of those AND I AM FROM NEW YORK but those here are so distracting! And every sign around me is in … well, Japanese. I might know a few phrases but I can't read a single thing.
Why couldn't Michael go somewhere where they at least write similarly?
Or better yet – How did I get here?
June 5th, still somewhere
Number of countries where English is official language: 88 - 60 sovereign states and 28 non-sovereign states
Number of countries where French is official language: 29 + Vatican.
Number of countries where Italian is official language: about 6.
Total number of countries where I would not have problems navigating with my linguistic knowledge: over a 100 (I am too upset to care about my Math)
But no. Michael couldn't go to any of these.
He had to go to JAPAN. Where they speak JAPANESE.
June 5th, a street across the train station
I FOUND IT!
At least I think I did. There are some trains.
I just followed some European looking people with suitcases.
Thank god they weren't headed for the airport.
June 5th, the train station
Train to Tsukuba leaves in 95 minutes.
It gives more than an hour to spare. I think I will lie down on some of the sears. I feel exhausted.
Well, I guess losing your bag and running up and down the airport, not to mention getting lost trying to find a train station can be rather tiring.
June 5th, the train station
It is kind of exciting, to be honest. I mean, minus the airline-lost-my-bag and I-am-totally-broke parts.
June 5th, the train station
Maybe I should find some karaoke bars and sing for money? You know, like Britney did in Crossroads? It totally earned her enough money and I totally know all her discography.
June 5th, the train station
It just occurred to me –
WHAT IF MUM DIDN'T PICK UP THE PHONE BECAUSE FAT LOUIE DIED AND SHE DIDN'T WANT TO TELL ME?
OH MY GOD.
My cat is dead.
And I am lost in Japan.
June 5th, the train station
You'd think the hunch that your beloved pet is dead would make you too freaked out to sleep.
But noooo, I slept like a baby. I actually slept so well that I missed the train to Tsukuba.
Yes. I missed my ride. AGAIN.
Why don't I just give up?
Really.
To Be Continued.
Broughttoyouby:::winter.
