OK, here's a stupid story to rival all stupidness in the galaxy.
Remember last week when I was all euphoric about order photo calendars for Christmas? The euphoria might not have made it into the blog post, but I was feeling very good about myself for collecting photos, designing three different calendars, and ordering them in time to take with me to Arizona this weekend (ergo saving on shipping). I had actually accomplished something in the midst of my slug-like existence. Something tangible and important (to me). Something pretty and fun (at least I think so). Something to cross of my list and forget for another year.
I've been all frustrated that the biggest set of calendars hasn't arrived. One is supposed to go in a package to Croatia today, after all. I finally called on it today and got a tracking number. Typing that little number into Fedex.com revealed the horrifying problem: the calendars were shipped to Beaverton, Oregon. To my old address.
If I used expletives, I might insert them here. Instead, imagine a snarl ripping from the throat of an ornery lion. That pretty much sums it up.
A large chunk of change (very little of it mine - others are contributing to this calendar-gifting frenzy) was invested in the purchase and shipment of these 12 calendars. I'm still holding out hope that one day I'll see them, but I'm not sure how that's going to happen, or when.
So, dear family members, if you are expecting tradition to bring a cute Dixon cousin (or some iteration of the family line) photo calendar to your doorstep this holiday season, please know that the Person In Charge has officially dropped the ball. [Rachel and Angie: I'll keep you posted.] There is a month to rectify the situation, so hopefully a happy ending is on the horizon. But if it doesn't appear, please know that the Person In Charge really tried.
Too bad you can't put good intentions under the Christmas tree.