I made it to Toronto yesterday — but my luggage apparent’y remained behind in Chicago. It was a tight connection to the last plane out, and I knew it was a 50/50 chance . . . and I lost.

The bad news is that they ‘can’t find’ my luggage, and in one hour I’m going to be presenting here at the Toronto Pagan Conference. My key talk, Magickal Group Dynamics, the one with a ton of handouts and detailed notes for me to follow so I get as much information as possible into a single hour. In my luggage are those handouts, business cards, and — most importantly — copies of my book. I was going to give one to Deo and another to Judy Harrow. Now, I have nothing.

Not even a toothbrush (which is mightily disgusting, let me tell you). I’m ignoring the ratty hair (thank goodness it isn’t long enough to mat, yet) and the slightly droopy clothes. This is because I was smart enough to wash my socks and ‘dainties’ in the sink last night and draped them over the heater. So, underneath, I am actually clean and comfy.

Sadly, I am running a fever and the head cold has not abated. I’d deal if my luggage were here, but its too much and I just want to go home.

Enough self-pity. I’ll post a real commentary about TPC after my talks.

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