...And Then, The Luggage Says "Well, No One Told Me Where We Were Headed"

◊ My bags finally made it. However, Mom, you were right about needing a towel. So I went shopping and bought one. I then took the best shower in the history of showering. After four whole days living in the same clothing I smelled like some of the locals and felt like crap. I feel at least %400 better and actually want to explore the city now instead of worring about my bags. In retrospect the is a very good lesson to be learned from all of this: listen to your mother. Or at least my mother. "Pack some extra clothing" she told me. "They will loose your luggage" she told me. "You don't want to be stuck without clean clothing" she told me. And how did I reply? "Oh, I don't need to worry about that" I said. "What are the odds of them loosing BOTH of my bags?" I said. "You worry too much" I said. Well, at least I was right on that last one. Which brings me to the point, and that is that I absoutly hate it when my mother is right because she always predics absolute doom. She has Murphy's laws on her side and I call that an unfair advantage.