Thursday, January 8, 2015

Letting Go of Baggage

Despite some travel hiccups, I finally made it back to Los Angeles. It was touch and go there for a while, airports were nutty. Like Home Alone, racing from Gate A12 to Gate D94, style. There was bad weather all over the US, my perfectly confirmed boarding pass was even rejected once, and check engine lights appeared at the most inconvenient of times. One of those times, I sat at the airport for about for hours, waiting for my flight to get approval to leave. 

As hour four came around the corner, the gate agent basically said, "Yeah. See that plane leaving from the gate next to us? It's going where you're going. You should try to get on it."

So we all ran there as if iPhones were on sale for 99 cents and desperately begged for a seat. Shocker, that gate agent became a little annoyed. She asked, "This plane leaves in three minutes. Are you willing to separate from your bag?"

Oh man... This seems like ideal circumstances for lost luggage. Suddenly I was worried if I had anything I'd like to see again in my checked bag. I did, but it didn't matter.  I had to get my body back in Los Angeles. I had an audition the next day.  And if I didn't get on that plane... I likely wasn't going to make it at all.

So I took a deep breath and nodded, knowing I may never see my favorite pair of yoga pants again. But for the lead in a film that shoots for a month on the East coast... it was a worthy sacrifice. I settled into my seat and started running my lines (probably creeping out the person sitting next to me).

Good news: I made my audition. 

My bag even made it to Los Angeles too. I have no idea how they did it, but I still have my favorite yoga pants.

Here we are in the year two thousand fifteen.  It's only a few days old and we're already off to a great start.

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