But, the fact is, it did end. Sunday came, we all said our goodbyes and went our separate ways.

There really isn't much more for me to write about my final day in Green Bay. Sunday afternoon, Weet and I hung out for a few hours, drinking coffee in the Starbucks with the drive-thru window, and wandering through the Wildlife Sanctuary looking at some beautiful birds of prey and trying to feed the already fed ducks and Canada geese. We had planned to do more, but were both pretty beat, and elected to just call it a night. I had dinner at the hotel restaurant and read my book. I soaked in the whirlpool tub one last time, got my bags all packed and ready to go, and ended up getting to bed by 10pm. It's sad. I just can't party like I used to.

The next morning I spent about a half hour indulging in the wonderful rainfall shower, then checked out of the totally awesome Saint Brendan's Inn. Weet met me there and drove me to the airport. After two beautiful, warm sunny days, the cold and snow returned. I had been contemplating a move to Green Bay - going so far as to scan the Want Ads for a paralegal position, and estimating just how big a house I could afford to buy. But, with the freezing wind blowing the freezing cold snow sideways at the airport, I changed my mind. Sorry, Weet, love ya, but I'm going back to Cali!

I decided to just check all my bags (except for the Shop-Co bag with my Cheese Head Hat, my book, and a few other Green Bay/Packers goodies I picked up in the airport, and my wallet) right there at the airport. I knew I would be sitting in Cincinnati for four hours, and I just didn't feel like dealing with the backpack from hell. So, I checked it. Cost me something like $40 to check that third piece of luggage, but at the time it was well worth it. My flights were uneventful, and even the time spent in Cincinnati was not too bad. I was in Concourse B this time, so I had new stores to browse through and new restaurants to choose from. LA was easy, too, and it was there I finished The Graveyard Game by Kage Baker, which was another in her fantastic Company series, and started getting a blister on my heel from the Faux Uggs. But it didn't matter, because I was almost home, and everything was going smoothly.

It was when we were descending into San Luis Obispo that it hit me: my car keys are still in the backpack I checked in Green Bay! Man. If that bag gets lost, I'm screwed.

I'm sure you can guess what happened next. In fact, you could probably write the rest of this entry for me, the outcome is so damn obvious: the backpack didn't make it. In fact none of my bags made it to SLO. And, nobody knew where they were!

"They might be on the next flight from LA," I was told. "Sometimes the bags don't make that connection between Delta and American Eage, so they just put them on the next flight."

"Okay," I said. "Well, can you check to see if they are, in fact, on that flight? I have the numbers and bar codes and stuff right here."

"Oh, no, we can't tell exactly where they are."

"So, you don't even know if they left Green Bay?"

"Um, no, but I'm sure they did. They'll either be on this next flight or the first one in the morning."

"Er, okay." (What I wanted to say was, "So lemme get this straight: UPS and FedEx can tract my packages to the exact shelf they're sitting on at the warehouse, or what truck they're being delivered in, and can even tell me what time they'll be delivered, but Delta/American Eagle can't tell me if my three bags with bar codes on them are on the next plane from LA, or if they even left Green Bay? Are you kiding me?!" But, I didn't.) Gah!

*sigh*

I ended up just filling out a Missing Luggage Report for all three bags. The next flight from LA wouldn't be there for another hour and a half, and I just didn't feel like waiting; particularly since they couldn't even guarantee my bags would be on it. So, I caught a ride home in a taxi, and drank heavily upon arrival. I bitched and moaned to my mom about it for about an hour, then broke down into hysterics. Because it's funny, really. I mean, how stupid could I be to check the bag that has my car keys in it? I always have my car keys with me. ALWAYS!! Gah!

Still, everything turned out okay: the next day I caught a ride over to the airport to pick up my car (with my spare key), and decided to check and see if my bags had in fact arrived. They had. On the following flight. I played "coulda, shoulda, woulda" all the way home, but finally decided that was a waste of time. I had my bags, I had my car keys, and I had my car. And, I still had a day and a half before I had to return to work. AND, by some delicious twist of fate, I didn't get sick!

And, so now it is truly over. I'm back at work, my Wisconsin accent has disappeared (although, periodically, I can stretch a vowel out for a few extra seconds), and instead of shoveling show off my sidewalk and scraping ice off my windshield, I'm mowing my lawn and pulling weeds. It was the best weekend I've had in a long, long time. I can't wait till next time!