Entries from March 2009 ↓

Recently, I received a notice from Citibank:

Important Security Message

This is to inform you that your account may be at risk for unauthorized use. To ensure that it remains protected, we have:

• Restricted Account Online access for this account number.
• Issued a new Citi Card to you.

Okay, I thought, it’s annoying that I’ll have to change any recurring payments, but it’s good that someone is paying attention to my card’s security.

Next step, I called the 800 number to activate the card. I keyed in my information as requested and was told to stay on the line until the activation was confirmed.

Now, I abhor using telephones.

Just ask any of my friends – they all know if they are lying bleeding on the floor, if they don’t email me with that information, help will be a long time coming.

Likewise, if zombies take over the earth via phone signals, like in Stephen King’s book “Cell,” I will be totally unscathed, until Jon catches up to me and eats my brains.

But since stupid company policies are rarely the phone representative’s fault, I always try to make an effort to be pleasant. I maintained this attitude throughout the call, even though the representative tried to sell me two different plans that would cost me money and provide a service I didn’t need. That’s fine, it’s part of his job and he probably doesn’t want to have this call anymore than I do.

Having been assured that the account was activated, I went online to check my balance. I couldn’t access my account, which I figured was normal – I’d just register my new card and we’d be back in business.

Unfortunately, the only way to register your card is to log in using your security word, which I apparently asked for when I requested this card.

This is when I started to get irritated.

I did not request this card, Citibank, you compromised my account information and issued this card to me. After several unsuccessful attempts, I checked my Citibank emails, just in case. No security word.

My emails did however, tell me to go to the website and click Contact Us, which would let me email customer support. Unfortunately, this is what happens when you try to email customer support with this issue:

I sighed, and picked up the phone again. After a nice conversation with Arthur, who could not help me, I spoke to Ryan, who handled the web support. By this point, we had figured out my security word, but unfortunately, Ryan also could not help me, because at that point, I’d made too many attempts and was locked out of their system.

Instead of resetting my account, or, god forbid, setting up access for me while they had me on the phone, they suggested I wait 24 hours and just try again. Ryan also shared with me the fact that the reason my card was compromised was because one of their credit card processors had accidentally rendered a whole mess of card numbers insecure.

This truly inspires confidence.

While I was typing this rant, I received another email from Citibank, instructing me to log in to my online account, because it’s been set up. In fact, I am “all set to manage my Citi card account online.”

Hopeful, thinking, “I will have to eat my words, but that it’s worth giving them one more chance,” I went to the registration page and tried setting up my account.

We’ve had a problem processing your request.

I hate you, Citibank. That was just taunting and unnecessary.

Now, let’s review. You want me to stick with you after you’ve locked me out of my account so I can’t pay you, the 3 representatives I spoke with can’t help me, you’ve sent me 2 meaningless emails asking me to log into an account I can’t access, and this is all because you let my credit card get hacked in the first place?

Screw this, I’m using my Amex card from now on. You can even activate their cards online.

Image credit: zombies, Citicard images courtesy of their awesome, awesome sites.

Guys, for $4,250.00, I can purchase my very own complete L-75 package.

According to my awesome new Scandinavian associate, this includes:

• 1.pcs. Line thrower L-75
• 1.pcs. Bucket Holder
• 1.pcs. Fastening Pipe
• 1.pcs. Heaving Line (3mm x 110metres)
• 1.pcs. Throwing Ball
• 1.pcs. Bucket
• 1.pcs. Air Hose Connector
• 1.pcs. Hose Clip
• 1.pcs. Users’ Manual (English)
• 1.pcs. Drawing of Assembly
• 1.pcs. Spare Part List

I am particularly excited about the Drawing of Assembly and the Spare Part List. What spare parts will be included!? Another bucket?

And a “Drawing of Assembly” suggests that not only do they trust me with owning this potentially lethal piece of equipment, they also trust me to put it together.

Oh, my friends, I must immediately begin fundraising for several hundred of these for my fortress of evil. Boiling oil? Gatling guns? No way. It’s the Line thrower L-75 all the way, because not only will we prevail in any firefight, we will also be able to rescue each other on deep sea adventures.

Clear win, either way.

I’ll close today with “Vinarligast!” which, according to the L-75 representatives, is how you say “Best Regards” in either Danish, Finish, or Icelandic. Or, whatever it is you speak on the Faroe Islands, a previously overlooked region which has moved up considerably on my list of places to conquer.

After all, if they can come up with the Line thrower, what else lurks in their nefarious minds?

If you’ve missed the previous post and don’t quite understand the excitement factor here, go back to: Shoot Up Your Ceiling with the L-75 Line Thrower.

VINARLIGAST!

Image credit: Bucket

We’re doing some wiring in our office, and one of the contractors, Daniel, kindly took the time to explain how they got the wires from one side of the office, through the ceiling, and then back down the other side.

Apparently, you can fish it across by opening the ceiling panels every few feet and climbing into the ceiling.

Or, you can use a pole to pull the wire through.

If you are sending the wire through pipes, you can actually suck it through with a vacuum, which is pretty awesome.

But the coolest method of all is that you can shoot the wire to its destination. Yes. I’m thinking harpoon gun, but one that you can legally use at work while pretending to be productive.

Fascinated, I googled a bit, and found some pictures of line throwing guns.

Now, I discovered, not only are there construction line throwers, but you can also get one for the rough seas, which is considerably larger and consequently better.

This one can be used to “bridge chasms and to reach building and cliff tops” as well as for “water rescue, and building and ski slope evacuation.”

Well, that clinched it. I wanted one.

I emailed the manufacturer of the L-75 line thrower, and asked for pricing in USD.

Sadly, no one has responded yet. Should I hear back, I will be sure to continue negotiations and post them here.

Image credit: linegun and harpoon gun.

Do you remember the Baz Luhrmann song “Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen)?”

It came out around the same time as the Clare Danes/ Leonardo DiCaprio Romeo + Juliet.

I got the song off Napster in college. I’ve kept it in my mp3s out of nostalgia, and moved it from computer to computer over the years.

Anyway, this song came up on my iTunes today. I almost skipped it, because songs with long speaking parts make it hard to concentrate. (I also have this problem with musicals, because I must resist the urge to break into song at work.)

But I thought, it’s been awhile. I’m going to listen to this song and get all uplifted and remember the important things in life. Yeah!

Then it started.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the class of 97.”

Wow, that was 12 years ago, I thought.

Oh my god. That was 12 years ago.

I was in high school 12 years ago.

Logically, I know I graduated in the class of 2000. But 2000 sounds so much more modern than anything in the 1900s. 1997. Good grief.

As an aside, I wonder what I did with that gigantic poster of Leonardo DiCaprio. I’ve got to see if I can find it and sneak it onto Jon’s bathroom wall right before his family comes to visit in May. If anything, it will make for interesting dinner conversation.

Just for fun, read the lyrics here.

Image credit: Romeo

In my February post, How to Fix Foot Cramps, I talked about how eating potassium and standing on cold surfaces were suggested cures for foot cramps. I found that they worked temporarily, but not as a lasting solution.

After visiting my doctor and giving them even more of my blood (sadistic vampires), I learned of a more permanent solution, at least for the kind of foot cramps I was having.

The magical cure is iron pills.

Don’t take them unless directed, because apparently an excess of iron does bad things to your insides. Actually, my anatomy & physiology teacher once told me that an excess of any mineral does bad things to your insides. But if you go to the doctor and they discover that you’re anemic, iron pills are your new best friend. (Sorry, old best friend.)

Anyway, an iron pill a day gets you to the point where you still sometimes feel cramps lurking in your muscles, but instead of seizing up in excruciating pain, you just stretch a little and you’re fine.

As an added bonus, iron pills are small (unlike prenatal vitamins) and don’t taste horrible (unlike Senna). Last bit of medical advice? If you have never eaten these pills, don’t.

True story.

Originally, people just thought I was really sick, so they stayed far away from me in case I was contagious. (This also has its perks.) Then, people just thought I was fat. But now, it’s pretty evident that I’m pregnant.

And it’s funny. People get all smiley, and tell you not to pick heavy things up and try to feed you all the time. If you don’t feel like doing something, people just assume that it’s the pregnancy. If you’re crazy or forgetful, it’s due to hormones.

Why is pregnancy a free pass to acting like a lazy sociopath? I even get this reaction from people who don’t like babies. Although it’s possible they are just conforming to social norms and secretly are saving up all the hate until post-pregnancy.

My theory is that people see that you are clearly carrying on the species, and genetically, they can’t respond negatively. You are continuing the dominance of the human race and thus ensuring our survival!

Guys, at 6,765,913,964 people, we are not at risk of petering out. If you start doubting this, go to the US Census Bureau Population Clock and continually refresh.

I have yet to test the limits of this newfound power. I’ve imagined confrontations where people hit my car (always a possibility in MA) and I get out and start screaming at them for driving into a 7 month pregnant lady.

As fun as this would be, I’m kind of glad these conflicts haven’t yet come up. With my luck, it would end up being with a baby-hating census-taker who is well aware of our overpopulation problems and has no social compunctions about running over a crazy pregnant woman who has forgotten why she’s standing in the road in the first place, due to hormones.

Image credit: Babies

Jon, Cass, Jay & I were looking for parking up in Portsmouth this weekend. We found a parking area, but all of the spots had No Parking signs.

For the most part, they also had cars in them.

Here was my thought process:

• It’s not smart to park in designated No Parking spots because your car might get towed.
• It’s unlikely that any authority figures will come out to this remote area.
• Other people are parked in these spots. They’d have to tow a lot of cars.
• We’re not planning on staying very long, so it’s unlikely that someone will check within this time period.
• Okay, let’s park here.

Please note, that train of thought doesn’t include either of these thoughts:

• It is wrong to disobey parking laws.
• If there is a No Parking sign, there must be a good reason for it to be there.

Logically, why is it wrong to disobey parking laws? And there are a lot of signs that don’t really have a good reason to be there. Consider the many intersections in New England that have a yield sign on one corner and a stop sign on another.

At the time, I didn’t stop to justify my decision. I just figured, hey, we probably won’t get caught, and not parking here will be inconvenient for me. In this situation, I didn’t feel the need to be right, I just wanted to do what I wanted and not get punished.

This can’t say good things about my moral compass, or about my reliance on logic to make good decisions.

So, let me ask you:

• How likely are you to do something you know is bad or illegal?
• How much more likely are you to do it if you have no fear of repercussions?
• If other people are also misbehaving, do you feel more comfortable doing so?
• If you can figure out a way to justify your (morally rotten) decision, will you believe that you are in the right?