Why Comcast is the spawn of the devil

My most recent phone conversation with Comcast (made from the office because my digital voice line keeps going out and I can’t use it to call them and tell them that my Internet is down)

Comcast: Thank you for calling Comcast. Please enter your 10-digit phone number

Me (dialing): beep bip beep bo beep beep beep bip bip

Comcast: Please enter your zip code

Me (dialing): bleep beep bip bip beep

Comcast: For trouble with your service, press 1; for billing, press 2; to transfer or downgrade your service, press 3

Me (dialing): Beep

Comcast: For security purposes, please enter your 10-digit phone number.

Me (speaking): What the eff? Didn’t I just do that? (dialing) beep bip beep bo beep beep beep bip bip

Comcast: Please enter your zip code.

Me: Seriously? (dialing) bleep beep bip bip beep

Comcast: To transfer your service, press 1…

Me (dialing): beep

Comcast: One moment. (series of bleeps)

Patricia, the Comcast lady: Thank you for calling Comcast. This is Patricia. How can I help you?

Me: I need to change the name on my Comcast account to my roommate.

Patricia: You need to go in person to your local billing station and fill out a form.

(I pause and wait for her to tell me where it is. She doesn’t)

Me: Can you tell me the phone number and address of the payment center?

Patricia: What city do you live in?

Me (thinking): Didn’t I just give you zip code TWICE?! (then, out loud) Alexandria, VA

Patricia: It’s at 508 D South Van Dorn St.

Me: And what’s the phone number?

Patricia: They don’t have a phone number because they don’t take calls.

Me: (thinking) Oh dear God in heaven above … (out loud) Ok. Can you please email me the form?

Patricia: No, we don’t have it electronically.

(I pause and wait for some kind of apologetic follow-up or explanation. She doesn’t give one).

Me: Ohhh-kay then. Um. Thanks?

Patricia: Sure, thanks for calling Comcast. Have a good day.

Me: I HATE YOU PEOPLE. (click)

Love's not Time's fool

I've recently become re-enamored with A Prairie Home Companion, a radio variety show broadcast by American Public Media. If you've never heard of Garrison Keiller and his sardonic, satirical and hysterically funny humor, you must tune in. It usually airs on Sunday evenings, which usually means that I listen to it later in the week over the Internet. The May 5th show is especially wonderful -- a special poetry episode featuring Alan Ginsberg, Meryl Streep, Billy Collins and more. Every week, Keiller does a completely off-book monologue of the News from Lake Wobegon, the fictional location of the show, and this week he used one of my favorite Shakespeare sonnets.

Suddenly, my mind was flooded with high school memories like the time my toilet flooded the bathroom because I couldn't figure out how to turn off the water. I had to memorize and recite this sonnet back in high school and as Keiller recited it on the show, I found myself reciting it along with him. I can't believe I remember all the words. I can't even remember to set the timer for my Trader Joe's frozen pizza. (Sucks when you burn your last frozen pizza to a crisp.) The human mind is a bizarre thing. Ah, highschool. I wore an afro during parts of highschool. Not on purpose, of course. It was perm gone miserably wrong. And then there was the time I got caught by the police while making out in parking lot with my boyfriend -- I tell you, they turn those lights on brighter when they know you're not wearing clothes. But my favorites memories from those days are the nights when me and a group of friends would just hang out at the elementary school playground, lying on our backs, trying to read the hidden language of the stars, putting into words life's deepest issues. We took ourselves so seriously when any adult probably would have laughed us off. But that's what high school is all about it, isn't it?

Sonnet 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Even God has an avatar

The Life Church, a mega-church in Oklahoma City, has invested thousands of dollars to build its online presence in Second Life. No joke, they are broadcasting its Sunday services live online. Read more here.

I'm curious. Is this really what the church should be doing, as it strives to be "culturally relevant"? These days, does something need to be made virtual in order to be made real? There is something rather sick about relying on bits and bytes rather than vivid human contact to make sense of the world.

On the other hand, people whittle away hours on Second Life because they want to escape a reality that they don't find appealing. I guess by definition that means they are searching for something. And maybe what they're searching for can be found with the help of a church, virtual or not.

Regardless, I find it interesting that more and more churches are looking at how to use the Internet and technology. And I wonder what might come next. Would we pray more if we could text message our requests to God? Would we behave better if we had a Google gadget for the 10 commandments on our iGoogle pages? Would we give more if tithing was made possible through our cell phones? Would we listen if God had a podcast or kept a blog?

Que soledad errante

Amor, cuántos caminos hasta llegar a un beso,
qué soledad errante hasta tu compañía!

Love, how many roads to obtain a kiss,
What lonely wanderings before finding you.

- Pablo Neruda

Unexpected meetings over a relaxing weekend

D.C. is definitely the city of random run-ins for me. Before I even moved here, I ran into a friend of a friend who was happened to be visiting Boston and who was moving to this city. Then there's the Gang member who went to college with an old NY high school friend of mine. And the guy I now work with who grew up in the same church as a good friend of mine in Boston. And the Houston high school friend of mine whose two best friends I dated for awhile and is currently living here. Or the weird connection that my roommate and I have with mutual friends out in East Asia.

Of course, there have been some not so great run-in's, like the time I unsoberly got into a fight with a random Australian guy on the street. Or the time I ran into cops and got pulled over twice in one week for speeding (neither resulted in a ticket, thank you very much). And the awkward moment when I ran into a guy at a club after he sent me a nasty email when I kinda ignored his phone calls and emails for a bit. And I must have run into something really hard on Friday because I woke up on Saturday with a nasty bruise on my thigh (and a nasty hangover). Side note: This whole post-finals euphoria is getting a little out of hand. Good thing I start working 40 hours a week tomorrow.

But, on the whole, I have to say the run-ins have been enjoyable and surprising. Tonight, I randomly decided to attend this church that I've visited before -- and ran into two old Boston friends who just happened to be visiting this week! We caught up over dinner and it was so great to chat with them and get the dirt on what's been happening with my Beantown gang. It's nice to know that even though I've felt really disconnected from my Boston friends lately, there are always moments that help plug you back in, just when you least expect it.

Here's to hoping the run-ins continue!

My first karaoke experience in DC

And it was so great.

Soooo great.

We started out with authentic Korean BBQ, 3 Asians and our token white friend. Naturally.

After much laughter, good food and kim chee, we moved on ... to our own private karaoke box. I should note here that we, of course, were not in D.C. Asians evidently don't live in DC and the ethnicities that do live there evidently don't like to karaoke as much as we do. Anyway, e were out in Annandale, land of ethnicity (well, lots of Koreans, at least) and, rather unfortunately, ethnic gangs. Armed now with 4 Asians and a token white friend, we sang our little hearts out. I love international karaoke -- English songs, Chinese songs, English songs...I was almost ready to break out in a little Gloria Estefan, but no. I did, however, embarrass myself fully by allowing someone else to pick a song for me, which turned out to be Whitney Houston's Greatest Love of All. My vocal coaches would have denied me three times before the cock crowed.

The song selection ran from George Michael to Ace of Base to Christina Aguilera to Stevie Wonder. But we ended the night with Boyz II Men's End of the Road. What a way to go out -- in a blaze of glory ... except that none of us could remember half the song, so most of it ended up as a bad spoken word interpretation of what my 9th grade years recall as one of the best songs of all time.

A+ for effort, though.

So close. So very very close.

Tomorrow is my very last final exam of my first year of business school.

I can't quite find the words to fit the occasion. I'm definitely relieved to be almost through the third level of hell, known as finals week, and I'm thrilled to have a great job lined up that will actually be paying me a livable wage. (ohhhh, Salary, I've missed you so).

But this is it for my first year of grad school. I'll never have this year again, never have this experience that I shared with so many people who became instant friends. And who, I hope, will become lifelong friends. The Cohorts will dissolve when the last person puts down his or her pencil tomorrow. We'll all have different classes next year, juggling part-time or full-time jobs, fewer group projects, no more study teams, and certainly won't be spending as much time in The Duck. Gosh, I'm gonna miss the Duck and its year-round frigid temperatures. I'm gonna miss fighting for breakout rooms with undergrads majoring in Sociology (they don't belong in our building!). I'm gonna miss my locker. I'm gonna miss roaming the halls and always finding friends the hidden cracks and crevices of the building.

Ah well. Life moves quickly and we need to keep up. Different doesn't equal worse. We may not have cohorts, but we'll always have the Gang of 100. We may not have study teams but we'll have happy hours! And of all the business schools that I've visited or researched, we have the tightest, coolest and best looking Gang out there. I doubt that will ever change.

Matters of faith

According to The New York Times, it seems that a growing number of college students today are turning more towards issues of faith and spirituality. The article offers a number of explanations; the following theory intrigued me:

“My theory is that the baby boomers decided they weren’t going to impose their religious life on their children the way their parents imposed it on them,” Mr. Steffen [chaplain at Lehigh University] continued. “The idea was to let them come to it themselves. And then they get to campus and things happen; someone dies, a suicide occurs. Real issues arise for them, and they sometimes feel that they don’t have resources to deal with them. And sometimes they turn to religion and courses in religion.”

Interesting. I've long believed that "mainstreaming" religion was one of the worst ways to share it. After all, history tends to show that faiths around the world spread faster and grow when under persecution not when imposed. Perhaps this resurgence in matters of faith -- all faiths -- will lead to more interfaith dialogue and understanding. Whatever God you believe in must also want this for us too.

The Queen is coming to Virginia!

No, really. Her Majesty, the Queen of England is coming to Virginia to celebrate the 400th anniversary of the founding of Jamestown. How fabulous is that!?! The Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh will be visiting Richmond, Jamestown, and Williamsburg on this trip and there's a whole festival planned for May 3 and 4.

I'm totally going. 20-page public policy paper be damned. I even entered into the lottery for a chance to walk with the Queen as she makes her way around the Richmond Capitol Square. A total of 108 people will win the lottery, symbolizing the 108 English settlers who founded Jamestown. Heh. Actually, I just want to hear Prince Phillip make one of his trademark utterly ridiculous remarks like "how do you keep the natives off the booze long enough?" Or maybe I can get him to autograph my chest with a Sharpie.

Luckily, I have at least one, equally dorky friend among the Gang of 100 who wants to come with me. Since I put him down as my guest and he put me down as his guest, we figure we have about a 3% chance of winning, given the 18,000 people who have registered so far. (Yes, yes, I already admitted to the dorkiness. Whatever). We've also agreed that a lottery win is a great excuse for a shopping trip. I mean, what does one wear when participating in a walkabout with the Queen? Thank goodness I've already been briefed on etiquette. Did you know that gloves are optional but if I choose to wear them, white is not required and neither is removing them before shaking the Queen's hand? Goodness, just imagine the horrifying ramifications of not possessing that critical nugget of truth and knowledge!

---------------
UPDATE (5/5)
I didn't win the lottery AND I totally missed out on seeing the Queen because I had to go into the office. Freakin' a. I've spent the past two months bemoaning a lack of job and income and now that I finally both (sort of), I miss the Queen. Sometimes you just can't win in life.

Bad ass on the road

I'm getting a motorcycle.

Don't know when, but I'm getting one. Someday. One that looks like this (which, by the way, is called the Honda Rebel. heh.)

I went riding with a friend of mine earlier this week and was instantly sold. It's a done deal. Done. Gettin' a motorcycle. Definitely.

So while I spent an hour searching for bikes online during class, my friend Big D went searching for biker chick photos online and reported that biker chicks are rarely attractive so I have an advantage. Interesting. Winter and Summer told me that I'm more of a Vespa girl. But I'm convinced that I have an inner biker chick to channel on the open road. She's gonna need a few more choice items in the wardrobe, though.

However, my inner biker babe was a bit crestfallen when I googled "biker chick" and ended up at BikerChickStuff.com -- on whose homepage happily stood a chihuahua in a pink sweater with the word "Bitch" scribbled across the back in jeweled letters.

That's so not okay.

It still goes vroom vroom. Sort of.

It's funny how certain automobiles become a meaningful part of one's life. Cars aren't just modes of transportation; they can inspire emotion, nostalgia and can become the focal point of entertaining stories that you will re-tell again and again. One such car is memorialized in this highly amusing article published in The Boston Irish Emigrant.

I've spent many ... uhh ... memorable moments in that car (most of them printable). The article doesn't tell you that it was actually I who found the pink string used to secure the hood of the car. And it sadly does not mention the almost-full plastic container of Minute Maid orange juice that called this car its home for about two years, or the screw that has been jammed into the side window to prevent it from falling (rather unsuccessfully). It also omits the fact that because the car wasn't fit to be used for its previous owner's driving test, he used my car instead and promptly hit a dumpster.

Hopefully Ryan and John performed better on their driving tests --and let's hope they make it to New Orleans!

Please consider making a donation to support the very important work of their chosen charity, the Irish Immigration Center, here. It's a wonderful organization upon which depend the livelihoods of many hard-working and deserving immigrants who are striving against an unjust system to make a better life for their families.

I know what we're doing this summer

No matter how many celebrity-turned-philanthropists try to impress the world, Bono is still the king of using fame and pop culture for good. This time, he is partnering with American Idol to put the spotlight on the One campaign (an anti-poverty campaign, for those of you living under a rock). The man never ceases to amaze me in how continually finds new ways to capture attention and passion for his causes.

I also like how the One campaign allows you to put a "One" t-shirt on your online avatar .... hee.

On a different note -- I am sooooo over school. Totally and completely over it. I simply cannot wait to have a job again, earn a salary, and not deal with things like useless operations homework, brutal 12-page papers and three-hour exams. What was I thinking, enrolling in a three-year program!?! At least I get a reprieve over the summer -- this summer, I'm working for a prestigious $1B international development nonprofit in the strategy and finance group. Can't WAIT to get started. I wish I could be doing the same work overseas, but I just have to keep hoping that my time will come.

I gotta hand it to the Gang of 100 -- our folks are doing such exciting things this summer. We have students working for Google, The Washington Post, OPIC, Pfizer, the Department of the Interior, United Way, Urban Land Institute and so many more exciting organizations! And others who are working for less recognizable organizations will be doing exciting stuff in environmental policy, sustainable real estate, international relations and international development. I'm so proud to be a part of this group!

Taking the plunge ...

I finally received my very first invitation to join Facebook. So I did.

48 hours later, I had 68 friends, joined 6 groups, written a note, been poked, sent two messages and got tagged in two photos.

Remarkable.

And I still don't really know what getting "poked" means in Facebook terminology.

Back on the market

Prince William is single again ... yummy. So what if he was born in the 80s. He owns Mauritius. What more could a girl possibly want in a mate?

Southern Cross

I met up with some old college friends tonight and was reminded of the power of music, how it influences and sparks memories, how it unifies and makes us unique at the same time. And hey, this all happened in an Irish pub in Washington DC. There was a rather wizened gentleman who was entertaining the pub crowd tonight, armed only with a guitar, a healthy mustache and a microphone. And he brought down the HOUSE! Played Johnny Cash, Billy Joel, Kenny Rogers, and so much more -- all the songs that you know and love. But when he started playing Southern Cross ... I was flooded with so many memories from so many chapters of my life simultaneously. I don't know if you've ever had that feeling but it's entirely overwhelming. I remembered learning this song in high school with my show choir and how much we loved singing it; I remembered how thrilled I felt when I learned that a now ex-boyfriend shared my love for this song; I remembered singing it with him as he played guitar; I remembered the quiet awe of seeing the Southern Cross constellation in a clear sky for the first time ... it's pretty cool that a rather simple song can evoke so much emotion.

But music also entertains and makes us laugh -- I also learned a new song tonight! And what makes it even better is that I learned the moves that go with it. Next time you're in a pub, request The Unicorn Song and just watch what happens. I kinda can't believe I spent 5 years in Boston pubs and never heard it ... The lyrics were originally penned by Shel Silverstein and are copied below for your edification:

A long time ago, when the Earth was green
There was more kinds of animals than you've ever seen
They'd run around free while the Earth was being born
And the loveliest of all was the unicorn

There was green alligators and long-necked geese
Some humpty backed camels and some chimpanzees
Some cats and rats and elephants, but sure as you're born
The loveliest of all was the unicorn

The Lord seen some sinning and it gave Him pain
And He says, "Stand back, I'm going to make it rain"
He says, "Hey Noah, I'll tell you what to do
Build me a floating zoo,
and take some of those...

Green alligators and long-necked geese
Some humpty backed camels and some chimpanzees
Some cats and rats and elephants, but sure as you're born
Don't you forget My unicorns

Old Noah was there to answer the call
He finished up making the ark just as the rain started to fall
He marched the animals two by two
And he called out as they came through
Hey Lord,

I've got green alligators and long-necked geese
Some humpty backed camels and some chimpanzees
Some cats and rats and elephants, but Lord, I'm so forlorn
I just can't find no unicorns"

And Noah looked out through the driving rain
Them unicorns were hiding, playing silly games
Kicking and splashing while the rain was falling
Oh, them silly unicorns

There was green alligators and long-necked geese
Some humpty backed camels and some chimpanzees
Noah cried, "Close the door because the rain is falling
And we just can't wait for no unicorns"

The ark started moving, it drifted with the tide
The unicorns looked up from the rocks and they cried
And the waters came down and sort of floated them away
That's why you never see unicorns to this very day

You'll see green alligators and long-necked geese
Some humpty backed camels and some chimpanzees
Some cats and rats and elephants, but sure as you're born
You're never gonna see no unicorns

Quantifying online dating

My most-hated class this semester is Operations. Unfortunately, it's not because I think the topic is boring -- on the contrary, I actually find operations to be rather fascinating. I loathe the class because our operations professor just doesn't operate at the level that I would expect from an MBA professor. Actually, I'm convinced the man is on medication ... and some days he overdoses and on others, he underdoses. Seriously, how else do you explain the fact that he has a PhD from Johns Hopkins and yet can't remember what goes in the numerator when calculating throughput rates? (Doesn't really reflect very well on Johns Hopkins, does it?)

Anyway, our latest assignment included the creation of a decision tree. Good thing we learned all about decision trees last semester from our exceptional economics professor. But I started thinking about what the decision tree would look like for someone (like me) who is considering online dating. What would be the probability of a "good match" turning into a date? And, given that this particular dating site requires a $30/month charge for 3 months, what would be the minimum number of dates to make it worth the cost? Well, I'll tell you.

As it turns out, I need at least 8 dates to make the online dating worth the cost, according to my decision tree. That's assuming I have a 60% chance of landing 8 dates, a 70% chance of those 8 dates involving at least 3 drinks, and a 30% chance of those dates involving a $30 dinner. And, of course, that he pays.

So to get 8 dates, I think I need to find at least 16 men who I'm interested in and who are interested in me before the $90 fee is worthwhile.

It's so great to know I'm learning something in graduate school...

Risen

I just wrapped up a successful D.C. weekend with the family. We managed to catch the tail end of the cherry blossoms before an arctic freeze descended upon the city; explored Eastern Market; treated some of the Gang of 100 to dim sum at the one and only dim sum restaurant in "Chinatown"; learned my father is a card-holding member of the 24 fan club; bought sneakers; ate good food; laughed a lot; and took in the Easter Sunday service at the National Cathedral.

Funny things, these Easter Sundays. It's the highest and holiest of all Christian holidays, the true triumph of life over death, the culmination of 40 days of Lent (or in my case, 25 days of Lent because I couldn't decide what to give up), the day upon which the entire hope and faith of Christians rests, without which Christianity wouldn't even exist. At the National Cathedral, the sinners came out in droves, draped in glorious long fur coats, sporting decadent pastel colored hats and the finest sports coats this side of the Mississippi. As I watched people spill out of tour buses, I was reminded of my most recent pop quiz in accounting class.

Yes, I know; odd transition. But our quiz was about categorizing the various costs and expenses of a church, e.g. repairing the organ, counting the cash collected on Sundays, visiting the sick. In order to answer the questions, you had to decide what services or goods a church actually provides. Needless to say, there were many answers from around the room ... but it was intriguing to me that there didn't seem to be one right answer.

So, what does a church actually do? Rehabilitate sinners? Offer prayers and blessings? Provide a place to sleep meditate on Sundays? I suppose you'd find people who would tell you all of the above, but I have to disagree. What's hard about defining a church is that its purpose isn't necessarily tangible or concrete -- it's not about how many services it offers on a Sunday, the size of its congregation, the number of baptisms in a year, the frequency of "Amens" spoken during a sermon. The church peddles in love, mercy, peace, hope and forgiveness. That's hard to quantify ... especially since Christians are called to share these wares in the same manner that they were given to us -- free of cost -- to any and all who are willing to accept them, thanks to what happened on Easter Sunday so many years ago. These gifts have already been paid for and I hope that's at least part of the message that you received today.

It's a little confusing, I know. But as the Right Reverend said this morning, there are 50 or so other Sundays in the year during which you can learn more. I learn more everyday and there are certainly no signs that I've learned it all....

Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he is risen!

Oh Omaha

Today, my mom sent me steaks.

They came in a white Styrofoam cooler, packed in dry ice.

There's nothing more to say really.

What I'm listening to these days ...

Because I'm obsessed with these artists, I wanted to share them with you:

Amy Winehouse -- British artist; pop/soul fabulousness. Her latest album is 60s-inspired

Elliott Yamin -- yes he was on American Idol last year but he's so talented!

Chris Daughtry -- see above.

Other stuff:
The Shins
Joss Stone
Anastacia
The Gotan Project
John Coltrane (can never get enough!)

Why you should pay cash for sex toys ...

... Because if you pay with credit, your credit card company thinks its a fraudulent charge, puts on a hold on your account and freezes your online access. Then you have to call them and explain that yes, the $44.37 charge to "SlumberParties" is really, truly your legitimate purchase ...

I wanted to tell the credit card agent that he might be interested in the Lickity Stiff product line, but I resisted the temptation.