I have a confession.
I lose things.
It started in 1995. My class ring, which I had only had for about 6 months, disappeared when I dropped it on the ground behind the Denny's near my house. I think I had paid $250 of my own money for it. For the next year and a half, I would mope around the parking lot, looking for it. I mean, how could it have just vanished? I heard it hit the ground and then it was gone. I've come to accept the fact that one of the "friends" I was with must have scooped it up. I have faith that when I'm 85 years old, someone will contact me having purchased it in a pawn shop 30 years before and they're finally getting around to tracking me down. Then, I'll get on some morning news show about how facinating it is for me to have been reunited with a piece of jewelry 70 years later.
I was heartbroken over the ring. I still am. I drive by the Denny's (which is no longer a Denny's) sometimes while going to my mom's house and consider stopping in and peeking around, but I resist. I decided not to lose any more things. I have failed on this quest...
- January, 1996 - In the gym at school, I left my sister's Columbia jacket (which I had borrowed without asking) on top of the lockers. I ran to go the bathroom and when I returned, it was gone. It would turn up later on the floor of the locker room. My sister, who was angry at me, didn't want it back and it eventually ended up at Goodwill.
- February, 1996 - My boyfriend had purchased me earrings for Valentines Day. Rushing out one morning before school, I put the earrings, some money, and a soda on the roof of my car. Halfway to school, I realized that I never took them off. I found one earring, but never found the other. (There's a funny story here about how I scrambled to buy the same set of earrings so he wouldn't notice... I still have the earrings today, although they have since turned green.)
- 1999 - At some point, I left my leather jacket in the computer labs at UMBC. I thought it was at home. Then, I thought it was at school. In the end, I never found it.
- September 9, 2001 - I was on an anniversary trip for my first anniversary of my first marriage. I left my expensive camera on the ground at the resort where we were staying, near the shuffle board. We left to go somewhere else and returned about 10 minutes later to find it missing. The people who were standing there claimed to know nothing about it.
- December 2002 - On my way to Vegas, I left my purse on the shuttle bus on the way to BWI from satellite parking. My ex did an amazing job tracking it down and we did get it back. This was good because we would have missed out on the Vegas trip since my ID was in the purse.
- June, 2003 - I left a $25 library book in the hotel room in Reno. It was out of print and the library wanted to charge me an arm and a leg to replace it. The hotel found it and mailed it to me.
- November, 2003 - I left my driver's license in the Venetian hotel after we had checked out. The Venetian found it and called the airport, who paged me. My ex had to go back in a cab to the hotel and get it. Remarkably, we still made our flight and I managed to keep that secret from the 3 co-workers who were with me on the trip (since I was horribly embarassed).
- December 24, 2003 - I woke up with only one diamond earring on, when I had gone to bed with two. I never found the earring. I ended up replacing them with much nicer ones a couple months later after an exhaustive search.
At my family reunion, I broke my sunglasses. I replaced them with a far nicer pair, but I left them in Bahama Breeze a few weeks ago. Thankfully, I got them back. The trick is remembering that you lost them as soon as possible, although that didn't work for me with the camera on our anniversary. Then, I left my credit card at a sushi restaurant the day before leaving for a conference.
Now, the kicker - I asked [my ex] if I could borrow his MP3 player for my trip to Minneapolis (I'm thankful that when I looked up my amazon.com history, I saw I only paid $90 for it and I bought it in 2001, so it's not worth much now). I took it with me and he offered to let me take his noise-canceling headphones that he just recently got as an incentive at work. I listened to it in the Milwaukee Airport on my way out, then put it in my bag. I know I put it in my bag. On the way home, while I was in Milwaukee, I realized that I hadn't seen them when I was packing my suitcase. They weren't in my bag. Somewhere between Milwaukee and Minneapolis, I lost them. I put in a lost request with the airline, the super shuttle and the Hilton. No dice. No one has found them and the Super Shuttle called today to tell me that they were ending their search.
I feel terrible, [the ex] was livid. He is, understandably so, sick of me losing things. I'm sick of me losing things. I don't do it on purpose, so I don't know how to stop. I've been so responsible with his digital camera, but I am starting to doubt that he will allow me to borrow it for trips. I don't blame him. I was thinking of getting an iPod for myself, but I'm feeling like maybe it's not a good idea. I'm just so damned irresponsible.
Note from 2011: I still lose things, none of this has gotten better. About 6 months after I wrote this, I took my ex's digital camera to a conference and left it when I went out to lunch, but I did get it back. Three months after that, I left my specially designed neck pillow in Disney World. I got that one back, too. Most recently, I left my cell phone on a plane to Orlando on my way down to visit our families in March. I never got that one back and I've had to suffer with an old, out of date, and embarrassing cell phone ever since. I've left water bottles the track during workouts, I've left things on airplanes and buses and boats. Even on my wedding day, one of the big reasons I wasn't wearing my flip flops in any of the photos was because I left them behind the bar at the resort and didn't find them until the next day ("um, Kim, aren't these your flip flops?").
I'm sure there are more, but I've stopped sweating it. It is just a normal fact of life that I lose things and it happens. It's who I am. Todd seems to accept it, even if my ex didn't.
Someday, I should tell the story of Todd's sunglasses, which he has lost and found about 5 times. I guess maybe he loses things, too, and that's why he understands. We're all human.