Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Fuck you, Qantas

OK so maybe that's a bit harsh, I don't know whether Qantas is to blame for my current predicament. It's horrifying, absolutely horrifying. Nothing compares to this torture.

I arrived home on Tuesday at about 6:15am. At 7am, I finally got through customs (Sydney airport- I hate you) and to my baggage carousel. Number 13. My bag was not circling joyfully around on the bag-travellator. I assumed it to be late. But soon, no more bags were coming out. Calmly, I wandered around the carousel, in case I'd missed it. Nothing.

I had arrived in Sydney. My bag had not.

Yesterday afternoon, I still hadn't heard from the airport. I rang them. They did not have my bag. I was told they would send out an alert with a description of my bag and call me the second it arrived. I'm still waiting for that call, 51 hours after I landed. I can only hope they're picking up the phone and dialling my number right now, because... oh I can hardly say it... I. Have. No. Clothes.

You know WHY I have no clothes? They're either in my suitcase, in the two postal boxes that have yet to arrive from various parts of Europe, OR at my mother's house. To which I have no key. It's on my bed. In my bedroom. IN MY MOTHER'S HOUSE! We have house sitters, so even if my dear sister had remembered to leave me her key this morning like I asked her to, I couldn't just waltz on up the hill. I'd have to RING AND CHECK first. Check with the people staying in my house if I can come over and get clothes. How's that for irritating?

AND I'm going out to dinner tonight. AND because I have a few nights planned with my friends this week, I had outfits roughly planned simply because I hate getting dressed then realising the next day that the shirt/skirt/hat/jacket I wore last night would be WAY better with tonight's outfit etc. So, even if I do get to my clothes at my mother's house, or alternatively buy more clothes with the money I don't really have, I won't be happy. I just got back from Europe. I'm meant to be wearing awesome Europey clothes. Even if I get this AWESOME cut out blouse from Sportsgirl that I want, It'll be like "oooh where'd you buy that? Paris?" "Nope. Top Ryde."

Honestly. Something really awesome must be about to happen to me because I have been REALLY ridiculously unlucky over the last few months. This time it's not even due to some mistake of my own! But it kills me because my bag could still be in Frankfurt for all I know, and I might not get it before I got to Melbourne. And I can deal with having to come up with a new outfit for tonight, but two night's in a row is just gunna be a bit infuriating. Clothes make the man, and if I'm not entirely happy with how I look, it really puts a downer on my mood.

So, I'm sure you've realised I'm just too DISTRAUGHT to give you the Europe update you deserve. I'm gunna go re-dye my hair (thank god. It's like the colour the milk goes when you eat cocoa pops. That weird pinky brown?) and watch Top Model.

-m xx

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