The Aftermath

Green Lantern and Money should go hand in hand.

Jasmine (I thing that's her name) needs a thicker skin.

I'm certain that my anger towards the Wachovia situation is well understood. I was not abusive on the phone to any of the representatives I spoke with. I was even told by some colleagues around me that, given the situation, I was more than pleasant. Now, at one point Jasmine was yanking my chain. I made it clear that I did not want to receive help from her, no offense, but that I only wanted to talk to ONE individual and I gave her his name. The name of the very person spoke with when the issue first started. Not being one to take no for an answer, and trust me, she understood clearly that I was not releasing information to her. She continued to ask me questions. I told her that I was through answering Wachovia Questions and Wachovia was going to answer mine.

Backtrack a bit

At lunch I went to my local Wachovia Branch and spoke with a gentleman that got to listen to about 20 minutes of my pissed-off'ed-ness, nicely put; and not being able to say anything because I was on a roll. I started by giving him my driver's license and bank card and told him to verify me. And then I asked him what truck he tried to purchase within the last 5 years. It seems that he was not aware of Regulation E (though it exists). End result, he helped me as much as he could and noted my policy and verified me and noted my policy further. I can only trust that he will convey my frustration upward, and also share my dissatisfaction with their Fraud Department security verification procedures. I'll get to that in a minute.

It seems that the 'supervisor' I spoke with yesterday did not put any hold/restrictions on my card; but she was a smart bitch and tweaked my nipple enough to piss me off, which in turn only spread the joy that is ME, amongst her peers. My money was always available. I seems that the Customer Service Center uses standard security questions (SSN, DOB, Address, Zip code, yadda yadda). But when a purchase is coded a potential fraud, it can trigger a requirement for additional questions associated to your social security number, and not your credit report as the first lovely supervisor told me. Either way, I'm not jiggy with the questions:

What truck did I try to purchase in the past 5 years - Answer is, I didn't
What relation to me is (Name) - answer is, Sister
What relation to me is (Name) - answer is, Mother
There was another question, but I forget what it was.

I understood the purpose of the question. But I found it offensive, invasive, and harassing to asking me questions that did not pertain to my business relationship with Wachovia. I would prefer a question like, "You write a monthly check for $302.62. To which company is that check written?" See how that question does not invade on purchase habits that do not relate Wachovia. See how that question does not interfere in my personal family life? Well, Wachovia is getting a complaint letter from me. oooooh scarey I know, but still, they need to hear my rant.

Well, back to Miss Over-Sensitive who was asking me too many questions that I was not about to answer. She was instant messaging the dude I needed to chat with. 10 minutes of her chatting with him, she finally tells me that she's not sure she will transfer the call because I would not respond to her questions. So I told her she was really pissing me off and to please let me talk to the person I asked for, that is apparently available. She proceeded to chastise me for using offensive language. Ummmm hello, if she had taken any of the 15 minutes we had been on the phone to read the trail of notes in my account, she would have realized why I was calling. Seriously, "pissing" was so terribly offensive to her that she felt negatively impacted. She needs a thicker skin if she's going to do that job. Or she needs to not use that ploy anymore cause she got called on it. But she did get the last laugh because she hung up on me. bitch, yes she did.

Dude kindly called me back within 5 minutes.

Research on his part revealed something he did not know. A fraud alert in their systems can be rescinded, but needs 24 hours to cycle; don't try to re-submit the purchase. subsequent repurchases within the 24 hour rescission window, extends the window an additional 24 hours for each violation. AH, that's why it keeps declining the purchase.

**I have elected not to proceed with that purchase**
**and I'm also considering other actions.**
Thank you Dude.
Go to Hell Dudette, Bitch Supervisor #1, and Double-Bitch Supervisor #2, and thank you Mr. Local Wachovia Branch guy.

The break is over

I hope the artist can deal with my editing his shouts.

I've needed a break from blogging. I have been really moody and I didn't want to put that energy out into the universe. Well, I did - but I just didn't. I still feel that way. And then I got my Intestinal madness and bacterial Michelin Man disease. Which by the way is not entirely better. I'm struggling with the recovery. My intestines feel as if they are bloated (they are) and extend around me by a foot and down (they don't, but I am wearing my fatman pants). I feel constipated, but I assure you that I am ooooh so very NOT. And I'm moody... but I digress.

So today was back to work after a week away. Away from work, but around. And boy did I get pissed right the fuck off and shit for business got done today. (not true, but felt like it.)

Last week I attempted to make a purchase online with my Wachovia card. I admit it was a purchase outside my norm. It was declined. Okay, that's fine, I understood that. So I called Wachovia to clear it up. I talked with a rather nice guy that asked me the usual security questions and all was well and I could make my purchases. OOOOH No the hell I could not - still declined. Called Wachovia back and could not get the nice guy I talked to. But did get a nice lady, who wasn't the most helpful. So I asked for a manager - it was resolved. Well that seemed so nice and "too" easy. It was.

Between Thursday and Friday I made multiple attempts to resolve this matter. And then all of a sudden it seems the tables turned against me. I became the culprit. I was being treated like I was attempting to steal (identity theft) myself. I was being asked questions that were beyond the scope of the normal security questions. What the hell was this? And all reasonable help to be able to make a $100 purchase from my pitiful $3000 of savings became a battle for my identity. Rest assured that over the weekend, I spoke with a Wachovia rep that was indeed less helpful but assured me that I could make my purchase. Again, no..... declined.

So today, I was not a happy camper trying to make my 'simple' purchase. I spoke with a supervisor. You know the kind with the sugary soft sultry calming voice. Well frankly she didn't realize the prick she was talking to. Because I can be nice, and equally sugary with a ton more sarcasm to back it up. She wanted me to answer additional questions that I found to be harassing and NONE OF THEIR BUSINESS. She wanted me to tell her what type of Truck purchase I had attempted within the past 5 years. She named my a person in my life and wanted to know my relation to her. She named another person in my life and wanted to know my relation to her as well. Answering these questions would have allowed me to get her, to release the funds to make the purchase. 5 days later, she asks me these additional security questions. See I not only have a problem with the additional intrusive security questions that I find to be customer service harassment (apparently allowed under the Electronic Fund Transfer Act - Regulation "E"); but I also find it frustrating that 5 day prior I was the same person (Identity thief or NOT) and allowed to have access to my money.

The kicker to this whole Bitch of a situation is this... Since I refused to be the monkey they wanted by answering their additional security questions, Ms. Bitch locked up my $100 AND the remaining balance. (Insert even more colorful epithets right the fuck HERE.)

Welcome back to blogging Thomas.

Bad Dream

My recent struggle with death left me having some odd dreams. What? ...I felt like I was dying. One of the dreams I had involved my demise. My gut wrenched, intestinal twisting and bacterial infested corpse lay serenely next to some old tree. As time passes I decay and wither away into the ground. The following Spring I am risen renewed in the form of mushrooms. A copious mound of brown mushrooms. All of you visit but don't stay. You reach out to touch me to say hello, but you pull away. The creatures of the land walk by me or around as if to avoid me. I am poisonous and you all recognize my healthful status. And the dream ends.

Well I have to tell you. That is actually how I felt. Not even my dog wanted to be around me. Frankly, I stunk. I showered - long hot showers are wonderful when you can muster up the energy to enjoy one when your sick. I stunk so bad I forced myself to shower whether I felt like it or not. I'm loathe to describe the stench. I smelled of defecation, but I was clean. I smelled of nicotine, but I have not been smoking. The smell was sour, rancid and oddly fragrant. I figure the fragrant part was from being diabetic and my sugar levels being high. But who the heck knows. Sweet smelling shit, is still shit; and that is how how felt.

Monday I felt well enough to go to work. I did. OMG, I still stunk. I went home for lunch and threw on some cologne to try to feel better about myself.

Today, I had more energy and I didn't stink. I'm getting better. Maybe my shit don't stink after all. *oh yeah, I'm feeling better*

Domo

This is Domo, but I'm naming it Pu'Ke' (pronounced Poo-Kay, but it's a fancy way of saying "Puke"). It's in honor of one of my friends and she shall find it sitting at her desk tomorrow morning with some brown M&M's to resemble the actual come-uppance.

Four of us went to a local restaurant on Friday night and we had a good time. I choose to not drink because I was having a health assessment completed the next morning. Two fine ladies were having Peppermintini's. The smelled wonderful and they look like mudslides in a martini glass. Well, let's just say they went down really fast and furious. Both got extremely silly and one made the bad decision to get up from her seat. It was all over from that point on. She tried to compose herself. But found that the bathroom was where the fun was at. And then made the mistake of coming back to the table, one gurgle too early. NICE. Well rather than go home I helped her get a hotel room.

durn, where are cute drunk boys when you need 'em.

Bottomless Pit

Aw crap, I woke up really hungry.

Even my car is hungry for gas.

This can't be good.

And it's not payday.

I'm a Prick

I've really been a prick this week. (no that pic above is not me, I'm cuter) I haven't meant to be mean, evil, nasty, or ill-intended; but my mouth at times has charged out in front of me too much this week. And I'm not accustomed to reacting in this fashion. I usual go through a period of keeping to myself and just being quiet. But this week, I think that I have been a sarcastic manipulative bullying prick.

I have been teasing the crap out of dude behind me. But I did tell him yesterday that I really appreciate him being able to take a ribbing because I've needed a punching bag this week. Which he in turn said that he tends to use me that way as well.


Other dude that is a bit mousey; I've been poking at him all week to take vacation time because - he needs to, he needs to, he hasn't taken any time off yet this year, he needs to, he has forfeited a week of vacation time for the past 5 years, and he needs to because I need a week of him not saying HAPPY MORNING! And ya know, he's planning a trip in July. Maybe not as soon as I would like, but he's planning.


Dude across the way from dude behind me - poor bastard has mount redoubt exploding on his forhead and I, of course, had to comment and comment. Good thing is he joked back about it and tends to appreciate the more evil and perverse things in life.


oh, I could go on - I even said "Fucking" in a meeting this week without batting an eye. My boss tried to stop me, cause she knew where it was going, but I couldn't be twarted. Yeah, I think a conversation is going to happen on that one. ...don't care. I really don't. Fucktard in earlier post really pissed me off.

What cracks me up is cute young female thing to my left and back always tells me I'm the happiest person she knows. This week even, she's told me that each day. I always seem to make her laugh and feel good about life... She must be missing out on all the other fun I've been having this week. I need a recharge:

Here he comes to save the day,
in blackest night or brightest day.
In evil’s sight, there’s wrong to right.
Beware this Lantern’s power light,
‘cause Mighty Mouse is here to fight.

cRanKy PaNts

I had no idea that there really are Cranky Pants out there! Fo' Shizzle!!

It's my blog and I'll blog what I want to. But I do feel a sliver of a need to apologize for yesterday's post because it was suddenly blessed with rampant F-bombs. I also need to clarify that I didn't retort back to the customer. I was illustrating what I wanted to say back, but could not because of work ethics. Damn those. I did however, firmly advise him of his options.

I also had to double think how mad I was yesterday. Today I had a several brain tremors of annoyance that I had difficulty putting into check. There are going to be off-days that the brain meds just don't want to calm the savage beast. Today was one of those days. I almost shared a bit of my Temporal Lobe with a colleagues Jaw, just to shut that person up. No not really, But I do have Ally McBeal visualizations to help move me along in the thought process. What I'm trying to say is that I need to recognize that Mr. Cranky Pants is upon me and I need to play nice.

But not with fucking Mr. NY, the dickwad. (insert Larry the Cable Guy apology here)

oh - HAIL NO, You di'int!

Ya know, at work I go about my business and do my best to be the ever patient worker-bee that helps the community at large. Most of the time I win. Sometimes I lose. And then there are days that I go about doing the nicest of things for someone and get bit by a snake. Well today was one of those days. I offered a man two reasonable choices to bring a peaceful end to his little drama in life and then he goes and ruins my day. Apparently I can take his god-damned "whatever it is I do" and fuck myself with it. That's not how he fucking wants it and he wants it his fucking way or no way at all. Does the fucker (me) understand all fucking that?

Pardon me Mr. Customer, but it's not 'fucker', it's Uncle Fucka to you. And I have several thousand of your testicles in the palm of my hand if you ever decide to get your head out of your ass. Because frankly, it's my way, or no way.

Fuck me?? - Fuck you asshole!!

Look out Spiff

Guilty Pleasure Bands

A colleague, was listening to a rather unusual band for that particular individual. I jested and did my best LOL affording plenty of rolled eyes. That's when it was explained to me, it was a guilty pleasure band - Roxette. See, if I were to choose, I'd have to pick Hot Tuna as my guilty pleasure band. But Roxette? doesn't that fall more under the embarassing but awkwardly pleasing bands. Much like The Thompson Twins would do.


My guilty pleasure bands would be KISS, ZZ Top, Fleetwood Mac, Molly Hatchet, Steppenwolf, Jackson Browne, The Doobie Brothers, .38 Special, and Heart. Now those are Guilty Pleasures.

But were I to admit to an embarrassing but awkwardly pleasing "band" - I have to say that I Honestly Love HER - Olivia Newton-John.

Which one's are yours?

Poke me again

I love my job.
I often wonder how I get any work done.

Everyday I must wear this shirt -->

It's part of my uniform that signals to others that I am there to be interrupted. Don't worry, at any time you feel the need to drop by my desk, please do. When you feel like calling, ring me up. When I'm on the chat system, which is all day, please message me. I want to help. I have no desire to do my job. I live and breath to know your job so that I can do it for you.

And if I don't answer my phone...
If I don't respond with in 2 seconds to your chat message...
Call dude behind me to see if I'm at my desk.
I'll be there waiting just for you.
Then make sure you drop by my desk, when I'm in Do Not Disturb.

And just to let you know that I serve you and only you; when I'm in a meeting that is facilitated by another person (most likely my boss), please come knock on the door and pull me out of that meeting. It was boring anyway and had no bearing on any responsibilities my job performance is based upon.

I trust we got that clear.

Pokemon: Snorlax

Can't

Stay

Awake.

Must

Sleep.

Must

Rest.

Blip

If it weren't for my prehensile tail today, I'd have felt completely worthless.

Wait!.... awww crap!

Captain Caveman

Friday, I had to laugh at one point because I really did feel like Captain Caveman. At the time I was carrying my dufflebag and had on my fleece jacket. The dufflebag was my caveman club, because for various reason, it has a bunch of my life in it at the moment. The jacket, with is many pockets had all sorts of stuff in it. Someone at work asked me if I had a can-opener. While they meant, at my desk; I actually said yes, I have one here somewhere. Now if you know the character of Captain Caveman, the club functioned in many ways. But the Captain's fur was a catchall for just about anything. He'd reach in and pull out all sorts of stuff. Well - I reached into my fleece jacket and I pulled out a can-opener. In my mind, I chanted "CapTAIN CAVE-Maaaaaaannnnnnnnnnn!" And yes, as a matter of fact, my mind does work like that. Ironically, Captain Caveman got a haircut today. High and tight. Unga Bunga!

Godzuki

All I could manage was yawning.
I don't think there was an ounce of Godzilla in me.
Today, the role of Thomas was played by Godzuki.

Stupid thoughts

I had all sorts of idiotic thoughts today. Some made sense and others were just blips in my brain that made me giggle. I knew that today would be a struggle. I woke up every hour on the hour. I swear I fell asleep soundly just prior to the alarm going off. Jezus I hate that.

I tend to shave in the shower. It's just easier. And I had the quirky notion to shave just half my face and go in to work.

I totally defied my priority list first thing in the morning. My mind said, go easy, do the easy items first. ... and I did.

The morning was flying by way to fast. Out loud (not that I really meant to) I said, I need time to slow down please. That didn't make dude behind me so happy and he chastised me because that meant his afternoon would go slow. Good!

After lunch I asked whiny dude what he thought of the notion that he was already dead and that THIS was his heaven. I giggled as I said heaven and he said hell.

I think only someone with my personality type can get away with telling their boss they look awful today. I did, she did, and she just laughed at me.

Steve Buscemi is not an attractive man. That's like saying Benicio Del Toro is attractive. I'm sorry that just isn't the case.

But David Cubitt is, and you can't tell me he isn't, because he IS.

I had other thoughts, but I'll sticky with David.

You're so violet, Violet!

My dominant hues are red and blue (violet).
Are not! Everyone knows it's GREEN.
I'm confident and like showing people new ideas.
Oh, I don't really care if they're new ideas or not...
I play well with others and can be very influential if I want to be.
Unlike others, I share. As for influential - it's the position.

My saturation level is lower than average - I don't stress out over things and don't understand people who do.
It's not that I don't understand them, they just tend to really piss me off.
Finishing projects may sometimes be a challenge, but I schedule time as I see fit and the important things all happen in the end, even if - not everyone - sees my grand master plan.
Yep and it irritates my colleagues to no end, but my work holds water.

My outlook on life is bright.
That all depends on what issue and how deep the doo-doo.
I see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates me to see them get down on everything.
Yeah, I'm a fucking ray of sunshine.

the spacefem.com html color quiz

Perception

Frustrating isn't it? Other than the birdie that Jadielady and I see, we can't figure out what the anti-image is. I was thinking about people's perceptions and I came along stuff like this. I'm not hunting down the answer until I give it more time, or until ya'll make some suggestions. So have at it folks. Tell me what you see. But why was I thinking about perceptions? Something a colleague said to me at work. She almost outed me to another colleague which was a result of a conversation she had previously had with another person. Apparently, I may be viewed as not a happy camper when someone "outs" me. That the anger is ME being angry with MY being outed. While I do care to some extent if I am outed, that's not really my concern.

What bothers me more, is the ability of the offending person doing the outing. I question how that person can be so inconsiderate to do that to another person. Gossip is gossip and nearly everyone does it or has done it. We talk to our friends, or people we believe to be friends and the Pert Commercial begins. Why does anyone talk about intimate details of another with anyone. Some of the answer goes back to perception. I know my friend at work almost outed me because she "believes she can" (perception) trust, the person she was talking to. And while I'm confident that the receiving party can be trusted; I'm not confident that same person would approve of the news.

Now here is where it gets sticky. I believe to the point of having the perception that my company is accepting of diverse lifestyles because I read my employee manual and it tells me so (hence I don't trust management and HR, ever). I believe that many - not all - (due to pre-conceived or otherwise perceptions) that my fellow colleagues are accepting of diverse lifestyles. The rub - my overpowering cynical streak believes that given the chance, my colleagues would use any type of information for ill, both purposefully and by accident. You may remember my post about my being a Pessi-Optimist. I believe in the positive but plan for the negative. I believe you can be trusted, but plan for you to be human. To my friend at work - I'm glad that you kept your mouth shut! Why, because I like my job. Now if you can get that other chic-a-dee near you to stop absentmindedly insinuating all the time, that would be a big help. Again, frustrating, isn't it?

Break Time

I'd like to say this was break time at work but I'd be lying. But one can dream. Back to work today went well. I even navigated the smoke breaks face on. Yep! I went on smoke breaks with the gang. I figure (like last time) I need to face that fact that friends smoke and I will be around it. So I need to force myself to get used to it. Most of the day went well with the exception of 2 things. One, I was in a fantastically boring meeting for 3 hours with yawning people and the room was just getting warmer. But I made it...

And 2? well you'll have to go read Dr. Flab.

Time Slows Down

Time

Slows

Down

When

Approaching

A

Black

Hole

Time also slows down on Friday evenings when you consume wine and know that you're a lightweight because of your medications. Time approaches zero when you spend that time with the parents of a precocious 2 1/2 year old who's table manners are decent to a point. The point of which "snack" aka dessert trumps any dinner. Time stops when that same child walks her mommy into a winner's "okay" through thoughtful youngster discourse and "reason". Time suddenly speeds up as the daddy decides to butt-in and parent. Damn I was having fun.

Time also slows down when you have no plans on a lazy Saturday. It slightly speeds up when you approach the asymptote of homemade rye bread, the creation of Indigo-Orion. And it again slows down when you enjoy the yum of it on a lazy Saturday.

Time speeds up to the shocking bark of a German Shepard to the loud "CLANK-THUD" of the Sunday newspaper on the screen door. Time slows down to the enjoyable stench of newspaper print and unbearable stories of world and local events. Time comes to a near halt when you clip coupons for yourself, friends and co-workers. You know them so well that you reminisce of your friends and their budgeting needs. Time speeds up for laundry and slows for the wait of the cycle. Time slows during the wait with a cat-like stretch that falls into dream catatonia. The repositioned yellow globe shifts within eye shot and time speeds up. Allowing you to tend to the laundry and other domestics. But time slows down as evening approaches and Claudia is fired over Melissa Rivers. And slumber approaches.

Time is ugliest on Monday mornings, with its rushing alarm and bladder urgent pup that simultaneously demand attention. Out of control, time moves faster and faster and faster and you seem to blink and the digitized numbers blurr past you, exponentially chastising you to beat the clock to work. Time **SLAMS** to a screeching halt as you power-on your laptop at work. You have arrived - The work hole - darkest matter in the universe. You're only hope is exercising the patience of Job and reaching out for ... my earbuds and blasting some Anastacia. ...aaaahh!