How 22 Lost Weight...or...What Goes Up Does Not Necessarily Come Down

In my pocket sits a list, a list of the many inadequacies in my character. It is a deeply introspective collection of points, begun and ended in a moment of sheer inspiration. It was born on a journey across an ocean, and it quite clearly tells you that I am about to drown.

It goes somewhat like this:

"How I Almost Missed Flight LX-052 from Zurich to Boston"

• The damnable antics of LX1249, which arrived (carrying yours truly) from Boston only 20 minutes prior to the departure of LX052. A small measure of panic was induced.
  
• A powerful revulsion of security checks. I attempted to find some way AROUND one. This did not aid me.
  
• The deep and abiding conviction that, in the face of all logical thought, my concentration in mathematics notwithstanding, despite the clear indication otherwise, Gate 22 was to be found between Gates 16 and 17.

...proving, once more, my mastery of the elements.

Amazingly enough, though, I reached Boston on-time (a unique occurence in the world of long-distance flight, or so I have found). My problems, however, were yet to begin. Immigration was as smooth as always, and Customs was a breeze. But in between those two lay an oft-overlooked troublemaker - the Baggage Claim. In its power lies your heart, your soul and your clothes, but it is a power little-exercised. For, in general, it is a peaceful creature, but - should it not like your face - it can turn into a most ferocious beast.

I got mauled.

And so it was that I trekked and train-hopped the long road to Brandeis minus a suitcase.

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