After two long flights from Samoa, I finally landed in DC in the wee hours this morning. The journey was not uneventful. It seemed like everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Seriously wrong.

CATASTROPHE
When I left Samoa, I took my 1 year old kittens with me. I knew it was going to be trouble, but even I couldn't anticipate what a disaster it would be. Read the full story here.

EXCESS LUGGAGE
I have acquired a great number of things while living in Samoa over the past year. I sold and gave away much of it, but I also took tons of stuff home. I had 2 checked bags, 2 carry-ons, the pet taxi with the kittens and 6 other "excess" items". The kittens were booked through a local cargo agent, Summit Cargo. I thought that I would be able to book the extra luggage through them as well. But, it turns out, I couldn't. It wasn't because the flight was full. It was mostly empty. It was because there was only one "airbill" and that was for the cats. I went round and round with Henry, the guy from Summit. He had been so helpful handling the cats and I could see he was troubled by the dilemma. The best solution he could come up with was to take all the bags back to their warehouse in Apia, throw them all on one palette, wrap in up in plastic and delivery it directly to my dad's house in Los Angeles. Sounded like a great plan to me since I didn't have to retrieve any of it on the other end. It was somewhat disconcerting though to see my bags leave the cargo place in the back of a some pick up. I trust Henry. I'm sure he'll do the right thing.

NO SLEEP TIL DC
My flight left Samoa at around 1am after a short delay on the tarmac at Faleolo Airport. I might have slept a wink between meals, but not much. I don't have much luck dozing off in air, so I wasn't really surprised. In LA, I had trouble getting through customs because of my cats and missed my connecting flight. Not such a big deal since I was able to spend the evening with my mom who met me at LAX with a suitcase full of clothes. She took me to a great Mexican place in Venice called La Cabana. I had the carne asada burrito, in case you were curious, and I know you are. The burrito was so huge, I couldn't finish it. My only mistake was not bringing it on the flight to DC (United Airlines- The Bankrupt Skies) which included no meal service. Instead we were given a bag of pretzels which I dipped in a jar of Nutlella that I salvaged from my fridge in Samoa. I discovered something new about myself. I love pretzels dipped in Nutella. I didn't sleep at all on this flight. Instead, I read Shopgirl and watched "Legally Blonde 2".

MISSING LUGGAGE
When I arrived at Dulles International at 5:40am, the place was deserted. I took the tram over the baggage claim and waited patiently by the carousel. And waited. And waited. And waited. Then the carousel stopped and my bag was nowhere to be found. I went to talk the attendant and she said my bag was coming in on a later flight and would be delivered to my hotel late in the afternoon. I said this wasn't good enough, as I needed the contents of the bag (this is why I checked the bag on the plane with me on it). She wasn't listening to me. I asked to speak to a supervisor. She said there was none. I said, you better find one or get someone on the phone, or you're going to be a former employee of the friendly skies. (Actually, I don't know what I said. It was six in the morning, I was exhausted.) She went off and 15 minutes later came back with a guy named Henry who was very apologetic and said that he'd put the back in a taxi as soon as it arrived at Dulles. I would be at my hotel before 10am. And he would also have someone from United Mileage Plus call me to give me compensation in the form of frequent flier miles. I was somewhat placated and got into a taxi in the direction of my hotel in Arlington.

NO ROOM AT THE INN
I had a great conversion with my taxi driver from Ethiopia on the 45 minute drive to Arlington. I was amazed I could even talk, let alone be coherent after 2 nights of travel and no sleep. I arrived the Virginian Suites slightly before 8am. There was no reservation for me. I explained I was with the Peace Corps. Still no reservation. But they could accommodate me. I was given the key to room 933 and told I had a roommate. On the corridor on the 9th floor, in front of every door is the Washington Post with the headline, "Davis Ousted, Arnold Wins." With this shocking bit of news, I arrived at door. I opened it with the plastic key card. The door slid open but wouldn't move more than a few inches because it was bolted on the inside. I knocked for several minutes. When no one responded, I went back to the front desk. The attendant called up to the room. When a women answered, he realized he made a mistake. I was exhausted. I just want to lie down for a minutes. He said not to worry, and gave me a key another room. He even called up to make sure the previous occupant was awake. I go back up to the 9th floor and find the room. I open the door. There's crap strewn all over the place. There's a book on the table entitled, "Arabic in 100 days" and there are vials of medicine everywhere. This guy, must have been in his late 50s, comes out of the bedroom. He tell me there are already two people in the room. There's a hideaway bed in the couch, but it's busted. Great. I go back downstairs. I tell the guy at the front desk what's going on and ask for another room. He says there are no other rooms. There's nothing he can do. His hands are tied. You mean to tell me the entire hotel is full? No, he says, but the Peace Corps has no more rooms. I tell him I don't care about that. I'm exhausted. I haven't slept in two days. I need a room, any room. I'll even pay for it and deal with the Peace Corps later. he gives an empty room. I get in, put down my stuff and try to go sleep. At 845, the phone rings. It's the guy from United telling the bag is on the way to hotel, but it's going to be late because of the fog. I thank him. A few minutes later, the phone rings again. This time it's Tim something or other from the Peace Corps. I can barely understand him, because I'm incoherent and he has a slight speech impediment. He wants to know why I'm in a single room instead of the room I was assigned. He says he understands, and is compassionate, but that I'll be sleeping on a fold out bed the next night. I try to get back to sleep but I can't.