So, I did virtually all my holiday shopping online this year.
Okay. Correction: I did every last bit of my holiday shopping online. There’s something very Zen about shopping online…the ambiance…the comfy chair…the glass of wine. Maybe this explains why I took things a step further and even bought some much-desired-but-certainly-not-necessary-for-survival items, just for ME. I mean, it’s my Christmas, too…right?
In the spirit of the season (and before I pull a 180 and get to the true meaning behind the title of this post), I wanted to share a few of my favorite, must-haves. (Guys: Feel free to scroll down past this boring girly stuff. Just don’t leave. M'kay?)
| Sephora Smoky Lash Mascara |
| Smashbox Primer |
| The Body Shop-Body Butter |
| Spanx Bra |
Please understand that none of the above recommendations come with any compensation to me (I wish!) but they are all amazing…so I thought you’d wanna know.
Guys? You can start paying attention again…and get that glazed look off your faces. (GG: Don’t look so horrified. It won’t bite.)
Anyway. My online purchases start showing up at my door. Almost every day, I come home to a new package on my doorstep. It was like freakin’ Christmas! (Ha.) One day, I come home to two boxes…a BIG box and a little box. I wrestle them both inside and dump all my work crap to check ‘em out. That’s when I realize that the BIG box is not addressed to me, although it is my address. I don’t recognize the name but I call the landlord to see if it’s a prior tenant…or maybe it’s the landlord’s second cousin once removed on his wife’s side...and he’s using this address to smuggle illegal drugs into the state, disguised in a Direct TV box. It feels suspiciously light…and hey, ya never know. Landlord claims he’s never heard the name…and we marvel over how stupid someone has to be to not know their own address for a Fed Ex shipment from Direct TV.
Landlord says to just leave it outside…not my problem. I decide to set a good Christmas example (otherwise known as paying it forward) and call Direct TV. After ten minutes of trying to weave my way through their voice-system…trying to explain that, “No, I’m not currently a customer. Nooooo, I don’t want to be a customer. Just give me a customer representative, dammit! AGENT!AGENT!AGENT!AGENT!” I finally got a living, breathing person who informed me that the box was meant for the recipient to “return their equipment”, which may have been code for something dirty...but I gathered it meant that basically, the box in question was empty. She said she’d flag the account and that eventually the customer would call them when it didn’t show up. I was a little annoyed that they weren’t going to immediately reach out to this person, since they obviously had his record pulled up. The rep said she could not explain why said person did not know their own correct address and seemed disinterested in discussing it further.
After disconnecting, I carried the box back outside. As I’m putting it down, I notice a phone number on the shipping label…and it’s a local number. Sighing deeply, I carry it back inside and dial the number.
It rings and rings and rings and then a machine picks up and a gravelly female voice says, “’Sup. Whattya you want? Say somethin’ and maybe I’ll talk to you. Later.”
CLICK.
I thought, “I don’t need this crap, bi-atch”. I hung up and brought the box back outside. Ten minutes later, my phone rings. God, I hate caller-ID…can’t even hang up on a machine anymore.
Unknown caller: “Did someone call me?”
Me: “Uh. (Long pause) Did they leave a message?”
Unknown caller: “No. Caller ID says someone called.”
Me: “Oh. Sorry…someone must have mis-dialed…”
Unknown caller: “Oh, Okay. Well, Merry Christmas to you.”
CLICK.
Dammit. So now I feel bad. So, I debate for about ten seconds and then I call them back…and it goes to voicemail. Again. I
It’s been two weeks. The box is still here. So much for trying to do the right thing….or not. Much ado...for nothing. Do I still get points for this? Anyone need an empty box?
Happy New Year, everyone! ROCK ON.













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