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This is copied from my daughter's blog.

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Continental Airlines

Fuck Continental Airlines.

Flight from Gulfport - connecting in Houston to Killeen/Fort Hood.
Upon arrival, naturally, everyone meets at the baggage claim area to...uh...claim their baggage.
We're met with a very empty conveyor belt.
Everyone of us had to stand in a line to describe our bags...describe our bags in order of the stickers on our boarding pass...
So I had to know whether my red tweed suitcase was serial number - 0206984 or 0206985.
While I'm describing my fourth suitcase...after an hour in line...the clerk notices that they had performed 'special screening' on all my bags...Opened them.
"Oh, it shows all you had in your bags was clothing and personal affects. That's really too bad."

Yeah, bitch. Shit we needed for a fucking vacation...which is starting off badly, thanks to you. What the hell else would I have in a suitcase...suits?

Now, I should back up a bit. Lost luggage can be prevented...carry-on, right?
And if it were one bag, I would kick myself...wait for its return and feel like an idiot.
But the explaination offered by the airline was that...on such a small aircraft (30 passengers, roughly.) they have to have a certain passenger to baggage ratio. They load the passengers first...then subtract from the baggage allowed.
They made a very deliberate decision to NOT put luggage on the plane, NOT give us the option of a later flight, and NOT to tell the passengers, "Hey, if you've got meds or a change of undies in your bag, grab it now, you won't see them for a couple days, if ever."

Most upsetting...considering that we're two hours from that airport...is that there were people there who were on their third day without their bags. Same airline, all from Houston. These people had been told to come back to the airport to pick up their bags, which is absolute horseshit.

One thought that kept me sane throughout the realization that I'd have to buy new panties and wear my mother's clothes is that...at least we'd get some nifty perks...
Nope.
Not one free dinner. No 10% off replacement pajamas. Not even a community punching bag on which to relieve stress.
Nothing.
I trade all of my and Unity's clothing for a pamphlet with a conveniently highlighted number to call 'If you become concerned about your belongings.'

They say bad press travels 25 times further than good.
Take note, tell your friends...pass it along.

Fuck Continental Airlines.