I went to Las Vegas this weekend. It was good time... Mom and I hung out. Yes, it was a good time. My plane arrived back in Reno maybe 5 minutes late. I headed to baggage claim... had to wait for the bagge to start coming around... I waited. Then the baggage stopped coming... ("um... bag, where are you?" thought I.) So I walked over to an information desk where an old woman smiled at me. "Can I help you?" she asked. "Yea, my bag never came." She nodded slowly with an understanding smile as if I was telling her about boy issues. "Here, honey, have a piece of candy." ("Oh no! My bag has been sent to China!") Then she directed me to a baggage claim booth. From there I was told to wait about 30 minutes until the next flight arrived to see if my bag was just put on the wrong plane. ("Put on the wrong plane!?") So I waited... meanwhile, Andrea, who had circled the airport fifteen times pulled into a parkinglot to wait, pray and learn how to use a new GPS toy, given to her by her father. I stood when the next baggage came around...("I hate airports, they scare me... am I stuck here forever?") I went back to the baggage claim... "Oh, that luggage wasn't from Las Vegas, you have to wait some more." ("I'm never going to get my bag, I'll be stuck here forever... I have homework to do!") Then I waited until the next Las Vegas baggage came through...("Bag I'll never see you again!!") So I filed a report on my missing bag.. I was told if my Bag never showed up I would be given $2,500 compensation. ("Good bye, Bag! Hello, transfering colleges!") Of course as I was leaving the air port I suddenly recalled everything my Bag had inside. ("ACK! my homework! My crocheting! Macaroni and toilet paper! Ack!") About 4 hours later, I recieved a call from my airline. My Bag had been found! ("Good bye, college transfer...") So I left my room and headed for the library where I did a group study for a math test. At the library I recieved 4 calls from my Bag's lost driver. He wanted to deliver it to my room... ("Um... they will not let a strange man with a full bag into the dorms... on Halloween, none the less. Sorry.") He insisted on taking it to my room. ("No, it's okay! I'll go get it when I come back from the library. It's going to be okay, I promise!") He seemed troubled by leaving it with strangers. ("tough luck... sorry, kid. That's the best I can do for you right now. I need to study... stop calling me!") And thus, when I was done studying, I retrieved my Bag from the front desk and showed Flanny all my weekend treasures.

Daddy, the beef jerk is amazing! Thanks!