Cruisin’ for a Losin’

Tomorrow, I’m going to Miami for Thanksgiving with the fam, then Saturday, we leave for a cruise to San Juan, St. Thomas, Turks and Caicos, and the Bahamas. Here we are in our vacation attire and drinking heavily (ie. this photo is pretty indicative of what’s about to go down):

The last time we took an international trip was to Italy in 2002 and it was quite…an experience. Aside from my brother and I making fun of my dad the entire time and telling him we got pick-pocketed every other day (which he believed about 60 percent of the time), I stayed out so late one night in Rome that I got locked out of the hotel (apparently, they close up shop in Europe?) and had to climb in my brother’s window on the first floor. And when I say “climb in,” I mean that I fell in, woke up the 3 dudes in the room and probably broke a lamp.

So anyway, this trip should be interesting.

In case you didn’t know, when you leave the country, you need a passport. My passport expired in February so my  mom started hounding me back in August/September to get a new one for the cruise. Of course I didn’t take action until mid-October and at that point, marched my ass down to the post office on Briarcliff without showering or brushing my hair, took a heinous passport picture (standard), then paid to have the passport expedited JUST to be safe ($186 total to be exact). I was teetering right on that standard 6-week delivery mark with the departure of the cruise and I knew with my luck, it wouldn’t arrive in time and I’d disappoint the family yet again.

It arrived a week later. Of course it did.

On Tuesday, November 8, my mom called me at the crack of dawn (9 a.m.) to get the passport info so she could check us in online for the boat. I sleepily reached over into my bedside table (where I thought I remembered placing it) and didn’t feel the smooth little book amongst the lube, breath mints and prescription drugs in the drawer.

I’m kidding, you guys. I keep my prescription drugs in the bathroom cabinet.

I got up and rifled through the nightstand. Nothing. Hmmm, that’s weird, I thought.

I realized maybe I hadn’t moved it from my desk to the bedside table like I thought. I went into my “office” and checked my desk. Not there either.

“Ugh, Mom, let me call you back.”

A slight panic set in, but I still felt like there was no way it could have disappeared.

Well…it had. I searched my apartment high and low and could not find the thing. I looked all day Tuesday and half of the day Wednesday, the whole time understanding the meaning of insanity: doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

On Thursday morning, Trey alerted me: “You threw it out. I know you did. I’ve done the same thing.”

I hate him.

I decided I would forget about it while traveling to Charleston that weekend for a wedding, and (per Kate’s genius suggestion) have my cleaning lady and her crew (don’t judge) come on Monday and try to find it. They were always finding random things I had misplaced (Dewey’s bones, headphones, vibrators, etc.) when they cleaned so I thought they might be able to use their powers on the missing passport.

They didn’t find it. And the more I thought about it, I probably shouldn’t have mentioned there was a passport up for grabs to 2 ladies that may or may not be illegal immigrants.

So with less than 2 weeks until cruise time, I finally came to terms with the fact that I may have thrown it out while cleaning (idiot) and made an “emergency” appointment at the passport office downtown. It was actually a very easy procedure, but the folks down there mean business and they didn’t find it amusing that I had just lost a passport issued to me 4 weeks prior. And then I had to pay $195 for this one. (In case anyone is wondering, I was able to pick it up 3 days later.)

Just to recap:

Passport #1: $186
Cleaning crew: $65
Passport #2:  $195

This trip better be f*cking priceless.

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