more evidence that the Monty Python show was really a documentary series

UPDATE, UPDATE - THIS STORY HAS A HAPPY ENDING!

It's been said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. This pithy remark has been attributed to everyone from Bismarck to Albert Einstein to Marilyn Monroe. I can only suggest that it must have been said by someone who knows me very well, BECAUSE I NEVER LEARN.

This all has to do with a sudden desire to appear svelte and graceful by means of a particular ankle-length skirt offered by Anthropologie. The skirt, however, does not seem to reciprocate my feelings, and has taken great pains to avoid me.

Our first match-up didn't go well. Anthro's web site had it listed as "web only." This is Anthro-speak for "We hate you and want to torture you, so to get this skirt you will have to deal with LaserShip."

Did you know there are whole blogs/websites dedicated to letting people vent their feelings about LaserShip? Yep, there are, and on none of them does anyone have any kind feelings for Lasership.

This reminds me of the time I left a job in a hellhole, and the first call I got at my new direct number was from another former employee of the hellhole, inviting me for a congratulory drink. OK. It turned out to be a gathering of more than 20 survivors of Lucifer Beelzebub Baalam & Bile LLP. I attended the irregular meetings, happily joining in the ill-wishing of various named individuals, until I learned that my ex-boss had left the firm, relocated out west, was required to take a local exam and was carried out of the exam site, shaking and gibbering, on a stretcher. Wow, it doesn't get much better than this. After that I concluded that my presence at the gatherings was no longer needed. Naturally I don't believe in curses and witchcraft and the like, but if a whimsical spirit wants to throw me a boon...

So, anyway, the first time I ordered the skirt and dealt with LaserShip and Anthro's gormless customer service, was mentioned here. The skirt did finally arrive via Pennsylvania, Northern New Jersey, New York City, Queens, back to New Jersey (via New York City), and then finally on a truck that was allowed to stop in New York City. The attentive reader will note that even then, I had already had a disheartening encounter with LaserShip and UO (an Anthro company) and the Jersey Swamp Tour, and I DIDN'T LEARN FROM THIS. Whatever. The skirt was a thing of beauty, and the size I had ordered  was large enough for two of me. I sighed and returned it.

Then Anthro Day arrived, 15% off everything. I ordered the skirt again, in a smaller size. It seemed to be selling faster, no doubt due to the unusual discount, which had the effect of covering the shipping and sales tax. It was again shipped via LaserShip, same repeated postponements of estimated delivery dates, same claims of unfindability, same incomprehensible "explanations".... And then a PACKAGE ARRIVED! Once again, my skirt had been bundled into a small plastic bag. Oops, not my skirt, but a pair of rayon mom jeans that would only fit a small frumpy hobbit on a budget.

The first person I spoke to at Anthro that day simply could not understand why I wanted to return jeans when I had ordered a skirt. I hung up. Times like these make me wish I hadn't stopped smoking.  I called back, and the next person was so helpful and sympathetic that part of me wanted to hug him, and part of me why he seemed to have had a lot of practice in dealing with "mispacks." Unfortunately by the time he was able to understand my frantic babble, the size I had wanted sold out. Anyway, my refund was processed, a note was made on the order that whatever had been sent was not what had been ordered and the "mispacked" item would be found in the returned package, and all was well.

Not five minutes later, I realized that I really really really wanted that skirt. I took one last look at the website, meaning only to tell it goodbye and find closure, and - it had popped back.

Yes, I did. By this time I had Anthro on speed-dial. The nice lady controlled her amusement, said she understood perfectly, honored the Anthro Day price and waived shipping. Email confirmations followed. Many, many email confirmations followed.

I am advised that the skirt has shipped and is on a truck to be delivered. Huh.

UPDATE! The skirt arrived, again packed by demented amateurs, and it fits perfectly. All relevant credits have appeared on my card.

Why do I feel that somehow I will pay for this?

the hunt is on - more escaped packages!

Oh, dear, where to begin? A cherished friend is in the hospital facing a repeat of surgery that didn't work the first time. She's been brave, gallant, unstoppable since I've known her, that is, for most of my life, and she's facing this with the calm courage that she's always had. So naturally I wanted to do - well, something! and as we all know, getting medical advice from people who love you but are not doctors (me) and are not you (the patient) can be really irritating. I decided to send a frivolous gift that might give her some smiles.

When she and I first became friends, little Magicke shops were everywhere. Even Bloomingdale's and Macy's had a corner or two. These boutiques, tended to be stocked with sandals, water pipes, craft projects made by people in far corners of the world who were probably very puzzled by the whole enterprise - and with odd things that might or might not bring luck, health, blessings, love, and better luck. Before you roll your eyes, I have a friend who has been married a long and happy time to a guy she found in Bloomingdale's. So there.

And thus I decided to send my bestie some Healing Crystals and Stones from Urban Outfitters. My stupid ankle keeps me from exploring further afield to places that might be more authentic, like, say, Stonehenge, so I clicked away and paid the silly shipping fee. In a day or so I was advised that the stuff had shipped. It went quickly enough via Lasership from somewhere in Pennsylvania to East Rutherford, New Jersey, to Lasership's depot in New York City. I assumed someone would put it on a little truck and drop it off. Wrong. It was instead scheduled to be sent to East Rutherford, New Jersey, where, as many sports fans will tell you, bad things happen (lookin' at you, NY Giants!).

Lasership of East Rutherford reported that the merch had not arrived, and then later, that the merch still had not arrived. The update instructed me "Contact shipper." Like this would help.

As directed, I telephoned UO Customer Service. I omit the small talk. The rep advised that she was not allowed to put a tracer on my purchase until 7 business days had passed since it shipped, because shipping takes that long. I referred her to the Lasership reports and gently suggested that since Lasership had already reported the package lost, waiting a week to ask if the package was lost was unlikely to be productive. She consulted her supervisor, who agreed that UO would contact Lasership within 48 hours.

To while away the slow-moving hours, I checked on a skirt that I'd ordered from Anthropologie. I wanted to try it on - although the price was startling, it looked like the kind of thing in which one could Do Magicke.  My friend Teacups has pointed out that even though the Soho Anthro is more fun, their Upper East Side  store is more conveniently located for returns. The desired skirt is web-only, so instant return-ability is a serious plus.

Except, of course, that Anthro also uses Lasership.

This is where I must ask myself - why has mere shopping become such a challenge? I'm the first female in the family who doesn't have a Lady at Bergdorf's and a Lady at Macy's and a Lady at Bloomie's. I have a bunch of phone numbers, but those phones are rarely answered. The last candidate to be my VPS at J.Crew not only couldn't locate the coat I wanted but sent me pics of coats she thought I would like, based on - well, I guess based on being able to find pictures of coats, because I had already bought one of them when it was marked down a few months earlier, and had ordered and returned the other. And why does web shopping remind me of how we used to go to the beach on the first warm spring morning as the tide was going out, and fling message-bearing coke bottles into the ocean? Actually that was more fun.

Of course I am writing this on the day I picked up the paper and learned that the exam for the NYC Cabdriver's License will no longer include New York City geography. I thought there should be a corresponding reduction in fare for (1) driver can't get the right info into the GPS; (2) driver too busy illegally using cell phone to turn on GPS; (3) passenger has to give directions because GPS has broken down. I haven't heard that the Taxi & Limousine Commission is considering any such offsets. If you come to New York and need to get somewhere, call me. I will help.

My skirt was last reported wandering in or near the marshes of northern New Jersey. Anthro didn't hold out much hope. The famous Teamsters' Union leader, one James Hoffa, is said to have disappeared in those marshes years ago. I imagine that Jimmy Hoffa's ghost is haunting the guys who Drive for Lasership without proper union credentials. I hope Jimmy can operate a GPS.