Identity Theft

I have traveled 'round the world and the unthinkable has never, ever, happened to me. "Unthinkable" when traveling, could be anything-stolen/lost passport, getting lost, finding out you have no place to sleep when you land, or losing all of your pictures. I have been fortunate to depart and return, unscathed.

Which is why, the following incident has me so pissed off.

Last week, in the comfort and safety of my very own home, a person of ill will , chose to enter and take things that did not belong to them. Making them a thief, and us victims of their audacity.

One of those things was my laptop. My laptop that had nearly every photo I have ever taken of every country I have ever visited and every trip I have ever taken.  Turkey, Nicaragua, China, Tanzania, just to name a few. All gone. When I discovered it, I felt as if someone had punched me in the face, then in the gut, then stomped on me.

My laptop had everything, everything on it. And no, I had no external hard drive to back things up, because that would have been the smart thing to do. I went about the next few days alternating between feeling angry and ill, with the ever-present insecurity of wondering if they are going to come back and do it again.

It's been a fun past few weeks, let me tell ya.

When I had time to process it, I decided that someone might as well have just stolen my identity. Because that is, in part,  what my photos mean to me. I am very proud of my ventures around the world. They have made me who I am today. From the first trip to Israel, to the most recent in Nicaragua, I have been formed, shaped, molded by the things I have seen and done. My photos were my hard-copy memories, "proof" that I have seen the world and been changed by it.

Call me shallow, call me dependent on material things, call me whatever. But I've been pretty mad.

I have some stuff on Facebook, which helps ease the sting of my life in photos disappearing in the span of what probably amounted to a five minute job on my house. I have a few CD's of photos that I made pre-Facebook. Everything else is gone, probably already wiped off the hard drive so the thief can do whatever it is with my laptop they so desperately needed to have for themselves.

I have come to accept it, but I am not alright with it. A little perspective helps too. I have a roof over my head, I have my husband, and we are fine. With the exception of memories,  every item that was taken is replaceable.  Nobody was physically hurt, and we learned a valuable lesson. Worse things could have happened, and worse things DO happen every single day.  Thankfully, one of those worse things didn't happen to us.

And now, since the link to my blog was a bookmark on my laptop, perhaps the thief has at least broadened their horizons to the world and is enjoying some leisure reading. So this one is for you, Thief.

Dear Person of Ill Repute Who Did Not Learn the Kindergarten Lesson of not Taking what doesn't Belong to You:
The laptop you stole was four years old, the screen isn't original, and the battery only holds a charge for a whopping 14 minutes. The new cord I bought for it probably won't last much longer, either.
The hotspot device you thoughtfully took to ensure you would be able to access the internet with my laptop. Really? You had to have known that the service would be cut off immediately. Enjoy the paperweight.
You left the charger behind for the camera you stole, so unless you can find another one to steal, you will probably have to actually pay for that. (*gasp!*)
I will leave the other items unmentioned, because you have either already used them or broken them. If you try to pawn them, we will find out your dirty little secret, so maybe best steer clear of the pawn shops.
Above all else, I hope you realize you were wrong and do something to make up for it. Maybe not to us, but to someone. Else, it will come back to you, in one way or another, one day. God, whether you believe in Him or not, does not and will not honor what you did.
That is a guarantee.

Also, if you come back, I have a 4 inch stiletto that my mother disdainfully refers to as my "lady of the night" shoes and I will not hesitate to use it somewhere on your body.

Hey, I had to get resourceful. You took everything else!