Attention Perverts and Pedophiles!

If you are interested in confiscating a complete stranger's photos and online albums, it's quite simple. 

Yesterday, I tried to access an online photograph storage account I've had for many years.  The email address is not something I use anymore and I forgot the password.  Match made in hell.

To log me in, they asked online validation questions I could not answer.  The nickname of my oldest child?   Is that a joke?  They actually claimed I added that as a security question on June 3, 2009. Um, I doubt it since I have no children and my dog has 9000 nicknames I would be embarrassed to admit out loud other than to her.

 @#$()*&#@$@#(*$&)@#$&

I emailed their Customer Support team and here's part of the response I got -

"We will invite you to contact us via telephone so we can ask security questions about the account and determine that you are the owner, once we have reviewed that you are the owner of the account we will gladly update the E-mail address of your account so you can access it."

Great! More complicated trivia questions!  Metric conversions?  Periodical table of the elements?  Or maybe they should just ask why I have no nickname for my oldest child or why I have no children yet period. 

I assumed this would not go well but called anyway.

I was on hold for over 30 long minutes after selecting the "questions about the website" option. Apparently lots of other people forgot the town where their grandmother's neighbor was born (or something equally as ridiculous).  When I finally got a representative,  the pictures were transferred from my old email address to my new one in under 5 minutes.   He then (shockingly) validated my lack of confidence in Customer Service Reps by asking that I log in with my new email address and old password.  Hey, remember when I called because I LOST MY EFFING PASSWORD?  Pay attention or you won't get that promotion to Sr. Customer Service Rep you've been telling all your friends about.

I will admit, the process was fairly painless.  So I should be thrilled, right?
  
Not so much.  This was done with absolutely NO validation of my identity.  Comforting to know that pictures from my bachelorette party and birth of my nephew could easily be the property of, well, basically anyone.  Hopefully this guy wasn't trained at some giant school for budding Customer Service Professionals.  If he was, someone out there might actually own my car.  Or my house.  Or my body after I die.

Way to go, (rhymes with Adirondack) ______ Gallery! 




Yes, please give this guy unlimited access to the last 10 years of my life in easy-to-download images.



Mirror, Mirror Near the Stall

I'm sure some very important people selected the Seven Wonders of the World as we know them today.  Unfortunately, the ball was dropped with their omission of one critical location -

The women's bathroom on the 1st floor of Building A at my place of employment.

For starters, I walked in last week to find a magnifying mirror adhered to the regular old full length mirror.  Men, I hate to creep you out here but women use those things in the privacy of their own homes to extract stubborn pimples and pluck hairs that could not possibly be seen by the naked eye.  You do not need 10x magnification to put on lipstick in the office.  If you do, go visit a doctor because you are legally blind.  If I see someone using that mirror for something disgusting, I will rip it off the God damn wall and smash it on the floor.   I mean it.

Why find out how ugly you really are up close at work?  Save it for your own house.  And bring wine.

The funny thing is that I doubt facilities came up with this brilliant idea.  So who had the balls to customize the workplace restroom?  I'm certain a random employee thought they were entitled to make this personal accommodation and stuck it up there.  And good thing they did....clearly it will come up under the "initiative" category in their performance review.

I would not be surprised if the woman who made eye contact with me, said hello, then sat down NEXT to me (there are 9 stalls and they were all empty) and explosively farted 10 times in a row will be found retiling the floors next week.  Hell, why not change the fixtures to suit her needs?  Make it your happy place.  You are already comfortable enough to let it all out while people are just trying to peacefully pee and run.

I didn't stick around for longer than I had to, but I suspect it looked something like this.

But most interesting, and what is unfortunately becoming a nationwide epidemic....cell phone conversations on the toilet.  In the office?  Really?  Play a game of Angry Birds on the bowl in your own house but do not schedule doctors appointments from in there.  You have a desk phone, feel free to use it.  I insist.  And if the call is so damn personal, why call from the toilet?  We can all see your shoes, it's not like there's a big mystery if you hide in a stall.

We have several phone offenders...the one who throws her pants all the way to the floor so they are lying on the tile (and according to a very special episode of the Oprah Winfrey Show, bathroom floors are actually dirtier than toilet seats) and chats away regularly. 

But my personal favorite is The Pregnant Girl with the Bluetooth Headset. 

Not only does she roam around with it in her ear all hours of the day, but she wears it into the bathroom.  She frequents the private handicapped stall and has extended conversations with family and friends.   And, without making myself look like a total weirdo, I often wonder what's going on in there since I witness this regularly.

Yes, this is the actual bathroom.  Nothing says inviting quite like a sign indicating the toilet doesn't flush automatically.

So here's my question....where exactly are you having the 30 minute conversions on your cell phone?  There is no chair in there other than the one with the big watery hole.  I like to think she stands next to the paper towel dispenser and uses the safety bar as an armrest.  If she sits on the floor (vomit), she should definitely be fired.  And immediately after delivery, the hospital should confiscate her baby because she makes very poor decisions.  (Although she spends so much time in there, chances are he/she will be born in that very bathroom.) 

Feel free to share your stories............

Shitake Happens

For a girl who hates costumes and Halloween, I sure do like event-inspired tee shirts for certain occasions.  To celebrate the NYC Marathon two years ago, I ironed clever phrases on 3 shirts. Why not embarrass my friends right along with me?

And yes, matching undershirts were also in attendance.

When I was 26, I actually made myself a tee shirt in marker to wear the day I got my wisdom teeth pulled.  I was terrified and thought it would be inspirational and make me laugh when the panic set in. Totally backfired -

1) The marker fumes were so bad I probably didn't even need anesthesia to knock me out
2) I wore it under a zipped sweatshirt because, after all, it really was only for me
3) My mother, finding this funny, tried to show the doctor when I was half passed out. 
4) Unrelated point but I was so out of it that I took the teeth home and told my now husband he should wear them on a necklace to our wedding.  (And yes, I realize how weird that is.  Surprising he still showed up at the church...sans tooth necklace.)

So for a recent trip to Napa with The Redhead (her first and she was SUPER excited), I figured shirts were in order. And I knew the EXACT place to order from.   A cute website with food/drink themed gifts and clothes, owned by the mother of a reality TV casting director I once met at a taping  (Not exactly my claim to fame but that's a story for another day).  When I met her she was was wearing a shirt that said....

I knew that day I'd order something eventually.  I love intelligent humor.

I ordered two shirts -

(her current living arrangement)

(part of my mantra for  2011)

Both were offered in only Maroon (as validated by the drop-down menu) and I went with our typical sizes.  I received confirmation my order was processed.  I then sent a response email about how I'd heard of them and how cute the website was.  I am actually thoughtful, believe it or not.

I waited by the mail like a kid looking for college acceptance letters.  Every day, no shirts.  Day before trip, no shirts.  After unsuccessfully trying the phone number (which was temporarily disconnected), I fired off my first email to customer service -

to          info@wearable____,com date      Fri, Jan 28, 2011 at 11:32 AM subject  my order

Hi,

I placed an order over a week ago. I planned on bringing two shirts on a trip this weekend and they're not here.  I tried calling your phone number and it has been temporarily disconnected.  I'm pretty disappointed.  Any update?

 

Three more days, nothing.  Second email -

to          info@wearable____,com date      Fri, February 4, 2011 at 5:14 PM subject my order (and my SECOND email)

Hi Wearable ____________,

Not sure what's going on over there but it's been 2 weeks, no tee shirts and your number is now permanently disconnected.  The vacation I ordered these shirts for was last week so I'm not sure what to do.  Plus you already charged my credit card.

Is anyone planning on answering?  I sure hope so since your website is very much open to taking orders.

Third email -

to          info@wearable____,com date      Tues, Feb 8, 2011 at 7:18 PM subject  Your ______ are NOT wearable

Three weeks, three emails, zero responses - good thing I have all sorts of free time to dispute the charge on my credit card.

I see other people have been posting Internet complaints about never receiving their products.  This makes me very confident I'll be receiving mine. I'd like to turn off my phone and stop responding to emails but we all know that's an asshole thing to do.  I guess you see no issue with it.

I was ready to call Citicards when I  received a package in my mailbox.  Well thankfully these shirts did NOT arrive on time and I packed an alternate outfit.  Not only are they so ugly (and randomly PINK with burgundy shoulders/trim - they look like little league uniforms) but they're SO SMALL and basically sleeveless.   I would not consider myself blessed in the boob category and the letters still stretched out the minute I put it on.  Plus, while the weather was lovely, it would surely be frowned upon if half my stomach was exposed any time I raised my arm to toast at the wineries.

Shitake does happen.  But I did not deserve this level of shitake for being nice enough to support a small business.  Next time I get my lazy ass back to the ironing board and make them myself. 

These Boots are Made for Stalking

I should have steered clear of celebrity nonsense after my very first star sighting.  I met Championship Boxer Joe Frazier about 25 years ago on a vacation at the Jersey Shore.  If someone is important enough to autograph my restaurant menu, they should really promote literacy by being able to spelling "boxer" correctly. It is probably embarrassing when an impatient 6 year old has no issue correcting you.

He totally got a pass on my name, but there is no "C" or "Z" in the spelling of his occupation.

Two and a half decades later, I'd consider myself a lukewarm follower of most things celebrity.  I watch Access Hollywood and read the occasional trash magazine.  I've been excited by having my picture taken with them and have even joined several Facebook pages honoring the rich and famous.  But what separates me from the (crazy) masses is my disinterest in stalking them or writing notes on their pages hoping they will respond and have Christmas dinner with my family. 

Today, however,  I thought it might be fun to briefly enter the world of obsessed fans.  I logged onto Facebook and pulled up one of my "liked" fan pages -

Reality TV Star status update - (453,888 page followers)

Praying for snow so I can wear my new snowboots! 

Over 400 comments and 602 "likes".  What are we liking, people?  Her boots?  Not possible since I wasted an unsuccessful 10 minutes searching for a picture of them. Maybe her status update?  It would get just as much approval if she said  "I am about to take a giant shit on your face".   Nobody seemed to realize their idol was NOT responding, even after hundreds of people begged her to do so.  "Show us your boots, we're dying to see them!"  (sigh) 

So I jumped in and posted lucky number 434 -   

Me - I find it absolutely fascinating that a comment about celebrity snow boots has 433 people interested enough to talk about it. (This will likely be followed by hate mail and my removal from  the (celebrity name) fan page but it's just mind blowing).2 minutes ago 1 

And yes, I "liked" my own comment.  Someone had to!

Immediately followed by -

K. Sanchez - NoooooNoooo! Lol 3 minutes ago ·1 

I also "liked" her comment because she was the only one who seemed to appreciate mine.

The best part?  I basically told these people they were crazy and it went unnoticed.  They just continued to talk about the weather and her boots.....

K. L. King - Come to Lees Summit Missouri, we have plenty of snow and I would love to see your new snowboots!  

(Sure you would...then you'll murder her and put them in a glass case in your living room along with her mittens and scarf.)

The nonsense went on and on.  So, purely for my own amusement, I decided to take it to a new level -

Me - If we're still talking about snow and/or snow boots, I love mine. Check them out!  

(And I posted a link to a photo of my own boots.)

Over an hour and not one person "liked" my boots. Whatever, I know they're adorable.

 
I got bored and switched to another page where a pregnant celebrity posted that she was in Hawaii.  And, to my utter amazement, she provided her actual location.  Not someone big enough for a giant entourage of security, plus she was on a romantic vacation with her husband.

The thread had a whopping 500+ responses.  If I were her, I'd do my best to place the one person who said "OMG, I'm actually heading to that exact place this week!" on some sort of terrorist no-fly list.   Selena's Fan Club President shot her outside her own apartment building - a secluded beach is probably way more risky.

This very apartment, actually. Not that she was asking for it but I'd avoid spending time there if I was unarmed.

If you are one of these people, it might be a good idea to dial it back just a little.   I walked in their shoes for at least 2 hours and it's not fun.  In fact, it's sort of creepy.  Losing sleep waiting for responses to postings like "I just NEED to know if this show is real" is ridiculous.  Let me help you out...it's not.  Time for a new hobby.