Part 2 of my Japan trip was supposed to go here, but then I discovered that Steam has a sale on various computer games. Among others Civ 5 for half price and the bestest game series ever Broken Sword 1-3 for only 1 Euro.
So... err... This might take a while. I knew you'd understand.
Seriously though. The second part is on its way.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Thursday, December 20, 2012
There...
I left for Japan at the end of last month to visit my friend Stefan. I'll try to recount some of what happened there and on the way there. I left Sweden on the morning of November 17th. I had a carefully laid out plan of wearing a jacket over a cardigan over a shirt. That way I'd be prepared for any climate both in Sweden and along the way and even when arriving in Japan. I liked my plan. Was quite proud.
I had a 5 hour overlay in Copenhagen. I spent it on writing articles and wrestling with the free wifi at the airport. IT'S NOT FREE WIFI IF IT DISCONNECTS EVERY 8 MINUTES! There, I feel much better now. Really. What are you doing with those long-armed sweaters?
I find my seat without any problems and it's one of those seats in front of the toilets, which means more legspace (YAY!) but no screen for inflight entertainment. (or so I initially thought. Also... Boo!). I was fed some kind of meat and gratinated potatoes. It was better than expected. '4/5, would eat again'. I was also handed an immigration form. Not technically an immigration form maybe. But it's a form, detailing where you'll be staying, if you're carrying any valuables, weapons or drugs and you leave it to the immigrations officer. I didn't have a pen. So I ignored the form for now. Instead I read a book on my Kindle.
Slight aside:
My Kindle is one of my better purchases this year. It's a reading plate. You can read any amazon book on there. Currently Amazon does not have a swedish section, but there are third-party programs that can transfer your borrowed library e-book (or any other e-book) onto the kindle without any fuss. Be sure to delete the book after your loan period expires though (as the thrid party software removes the DRM-protection). Remember that swedish libraries are currently paying 3$ per borrowed ebook to the publishers.
I read 'Dreamsongs volume 1' by George RR Martin. That's the same guy that writes the Game of thrones-books. Dreamsongs is a collection of short stories and some anecdotes from Georges life, narrated by himself and I had previously read volume 2 (it was a gift from a co-worker) so when I found it on sale in the kindle store I couldn't really resist. Volume 2 is definitely the better of the two, but Volume 1 is well worth a read.
Back on track:
As we approached the eastern parts of Russia I'd finished my book and was looking around to see that the fellow to the left of me had found his inflight-entertainment-monitor. It was somehow hidden under our chair, I could feel my own with my hand, but never figure out how to swing it into any position where I could view it. Or swing it anywhere at all, as a matter of fact. Well well, I missed 'Total Recall 2012', I guess I'll have to learn how to live with it. As we approached the Sea of Japan a friendly danish stewardess came over to me and asked
'Did you choose this seat or were you assigned it at random?' with a shocked and horrified look.
'Yeah umm well... ehh I was assigned it?' Which was more or less true since it was the only seat left when I checked in.
'Ah because you see, these are the worst seat on the airplane, it's common that we put families travelling with small children here'
'Yeah um, I kinda liked the extra legspace'
The stewardess looked funnily at me and repeated in an odd voice like she was talking to a child '...WORST SEATS ON THE PLANE!'
'Umm can I borrow a pencil to stab you in the eye, Joker-style? Err I mean to fill out the immigration forms'
'Of course!'
Never try to understand danes. Denmark is like one big school for children with special needs. Just kidding of course. I know a lot of danes, I work with danes and I love them. If only you guys, once in a while, would try this whole consonant thing out. Come on throw us a bone here. It's not like it hurts.
We land at Narita airport in Tokyo and as I look out the window I see that it's sunny and the thermometer says that it's 'not that much of a Swedish winter jacket'-weather. I keep my cardigan on though but when we get off it becomes apparent that it's not really 'cardigan-'weather either. First however: Japanese immigration. Since I had no idea on what street Stefan lived I just gave his name and 'Hirakata'. Can't imagine there being that many Stefan Bengtsson in Hirakata. The japanese didn't object and let me into their country. 'Suckers!' However there was a moment of tension between me and the Customs officer. He asks me where I'm going and I answer 'Hirakata'. He looks at me as if I'm trying to communicate with him in Martian. 'Hirakata' I repeat. 'Hirakata?' he repeats by mimicking my sounds. I give up and go 'Osaka' which is the nearest prefecture. I draw the conclusion that the customs in Japan does not believe in Hirakata.
So first thing to do was to turn my exchange order into a rail pass. I can see you all out there going 'turn what into a who?'. Yes, yes, perhaps I should have mentioned the rail pass earlier, but I'm too lazy to go back and rewrite everything now. The idea is that there's a train pass that lets you travel all the railways for free. Great deal! It is however only available to tourists and not to Japanese themselves. So you have to buy an exchange order in your own country that you exchange to a real railpass in Japan. You also have to show your passport. Me and my other friend Andreas had decided to get ourselves railpasses, because the trainride back and forth from Narita Airport to Stefans home in Hirakata was comparable to the price of the rail pass so it was an easy decision. There's a slight twist to the story though. While me and Andreas were arriving at the same time, we weren't arriving at the same place. He was flying with Finnair and I was flying SAS. SAS and Finnair arrive at different terminals. As soon as we got on the ground we get in touch via text. This is a fairly accurate reconstruction of the conversation (with surrounding events):
PW: Touchdown
AD: I suggest you get working on your railpass, it takes forever.
PW: OK, I thought we were gonna do this together, though?
AD: I need to take the train to get to your terminal. I have to fix it here.
PW: OK.
So I go fix my rail pass. It does not take forever. Unless the defenition of forever is 10 minutes. I have to stop the nice japanese girl helping me from making seat reservations for a specific train on my rail pass though, since I'm waiting for Andreas so we can you know go together.
PW: Got it.
AD: Really? Still waiting in line.
So I go to the bathroom to change out of my cardigan, put my jacket in my luggage and switch shirts. Since the one I'm wearing is drenched in sweat. Large westerner meats japanese toilet. Let's just say that me trying to change clothes in a japanese bathroom stall could have doubled as a script for mr Bean. I wasn't as much in the bathroom stall as I was wearing it. When I get back out again I recieve another text.
AD: Got it! I'm on the 11:43 train to Tokyo.
I look at the clock on the wall '11:33'. I check the information light board. 'Hmm, no trains leaving at 11:43 from here if I understand this correctly, but I need to get a move on. I'll ask the girl at the seat reservation desk'
I start heading towards said desk.
PW: Thanks for the headsup, pal! I need to make seat reservations. Might not make it in time.
AD: Oh just realised, the train leaves from your terminal earlier... comes to me at 11:43.
PW: !!!!!
So I turn and make a run for the trains, while explaining to anyone who would listen why I hate people. I make it to the right train just in time. Next stop is Narita Airport terminal 2 and I meet with Andreas.
'You do realize that if I get thrown off because I don't have seat reservations, I'll punch you in the nuts right?'
The conductor rolls by and asks us for tickets. There's a moment of suspense as he eyes my rail pass and asks 'Tokyo?' 'Hai!' He looks as if he's thinking 'Stupid tourist. How do you manage to not get this right? They make seat reservation for you at the desk where they give you the rail pass.' and then lets me go on.
Me and Andreas get off in Tokyo and enjoy some roastbeef sandwhich and pasta bolognese. Ain't nothing like tasting the local cuisine. Also enjoyed our first 14$ bottle of water ever in our lives. We drank in reverence. After being fed and watered we get on the train from Tokyo to Osaka. The journey takes almost exactly three hours and upon arriving in Osaka we wait for Stefan. And we wait. And wait. After another hour we call him asking him where he is. He of course asks the same. It takes a couple of minutes to determine that me and Andreas had gone to the wrong Osaka. Not as in 'the wrong Osaka town' but 'the wrong Osaka station'. Stefan offers to come pick us up. 'Yes please we would like that very much' and 25 minutes later we meet up!
And so ends part one of my travelogue of my trip to Japan. Hope you're enjoying it sofar and hope you didn't feel it was too longwinded.
I had a 5 hour overlay in Copenhagen. I spent it on writing articles and wrestling with the free wifi at the airport. IT'S NOT FREE WIFI IF IT DISCONNECTS EVERY 8 MINUTES! There, I feel much better now. Really. What are you doing with those long-armed sweaters?
I find my seat without any problems and it's one of those seats in front of the toilets, which means more legspace (YAY!) but no screen for inflight entertainment. (or so I initially thought. Also... Boo!). I was fed some kind of meat and gratinated potatoes. It was better than expected. '4/5, would eat again'. I was also handed an immigration form. Not technically an immigration form maybe. But it's a form, detailing where you'll be staying, if you're carrying any valuables, weapons or drugs and you leave it to the immigrations officer. I didn't have a pen. So I ignored the form for now. Instead I read a book on my Kindle.
Slight aside:
My Kindle is one of my better purchases this year. It's a reading plate. You can read any amazon book on there. Currently Amazon does not have a swedish section, but there are third-party programs that can transfer your borrowed library e-book (or any other e-book) onto the kindle without any fuss. Be sure to delete the book after your loan period expires though (as the thrid party software removes the DRM-protection). Remember that swedish libraries are currently paying 3$ per borrowed ebook to the publishers.
I read 'Dreamsongs volume 1' by George RR Martin. That's the same guy that writes the Game of thrones-books. Dreamsongs is a collection of short stories and some anecdotes from Georges life, narrated by himself and I had previously read volume 2 (it was a gift from a co-worker) so when I found it on sale in the kindle store I couldn't really resist. Volume 2 is definitely the better of the two, but Volume 1 is well worth a read.
Back on track:
As we approached the eastern parts of Russia I'd finished my book and was looking around to see that the fellow to the left of me had found his inflight-entertainment-monitor. It was somehow hidden under our chair, I could feel my own with my hand, but never figure out how to swing it into any position where I could view it. Or swing it anywhere at all, as a matter of fact. Well well, I missed 'Total Recall 2012', I guess I'll have to learn how to live with it. As we approached the Sea of Japan a friendly danish stewardess came over to me and asked
'Did you choose this seat or were you assigned it at random?' with a shocked and horrified look.
'Yeah umm well... ehh I was assigned it?' Which was more or less true since it was the only seat left when I checked in.
'Ah because you see, these are the worst seat on the airplane, it's common that we put families travelling with small children here'
'Yeah um, I kinda liked the extra legspace'
The stewardess looked funnily at me and repeated in an odd voice like she was talking to a child '...WORST SEATS ON THE PLANE!'
'Umm can I borrow a pencil to stab you in the eye, Joker-style? Err I mean to fill out the immigration forms'
'Of course!'
Never try to understand danes. Denmark is like one big school for children with special needs. Just kidding of course. I know a lot of danes, I work with danes and I love them. If only you guys, once in a while, would try this whole consonant thing out. Come on throw us a bone here. It's not like it hurts.
We land at Narita airport in Tokyo and as I look out the window I see that it's sunny and the thermometer says that it's 'not that much of a Swedish winter jacket'-weather. I keep my cardigan on though but when we get off it becomes apparent that it's not really 'cardigan-'weather either. First however: Japanese immigration. Since I had no idea on what street Stefan lived I just gave his name and 'Hirakata'. Can't imagine there being that many Stefan Bengtsson in Hirakata. The japanese didn't object and let me into their country. 'Suckers!' However there was a moment of tension between me and the Customs officer. He asks me where I'm going and I answer 'Hirakata'. He looks at me as if I'm trying to communicate with him in Martian. 'Hirakata' I repeat. 'Hirakata?' he repeats by mimicking my sounds. I give up and go 'Osaka' which is the nearest prefecture. I draw the conclusion that the customs in Japan does not believe in Hirakata.
So first thing to do was to turn my exchange order into a rail pass. I can see you all out there going 'turn what into a who?'. Yes, yes, perhaps I should have mentioned the rail pass earlier, but I'm too lazy to go back and rewrite everything now. The idea is that there's a train pass that lets you travel all the railways for free. Great deal! It is however only available to tourists and not to Japanese themselves. So you have to buy an exchange order in your own country that you exchange to a real railpass in Japan. You also have to show your passport. Me and my other friend Andreas had decided to get ourselves railpasses, because the trainride back and forth from Narita Airport to Stefans home in Hirakata was comparable to the price of the rail pass so it was an easy decision. There's a slight twist to the story though. While me and Andreas were arriving at the same time, we weren't arriving at the same place. He was flying with Finnair and I was flying SAS. SAS and Finnair arrive at different terminals. As soon as we got on the ground we get in touch via text. This is a fairly accurate reconstruction of the conversation (with surrounding events):
PW: Touchdown
AD: I suggest you get working on your railpass, it takes forever.
PW: OK, I thought we were gonna do this together, though?
AD: I need to take the train to get to your terminal. I have to fix it here.
PW: OK.
So I go fix my rail pass. It does not take forever. Unless the defenition of forever is 10 minutes. I have to stop the nice japanese girl helping me from making seat reservations for a specific train on my rail pass though, since I'm waiting for Andreas so we can you know go together.
PW: Got it.
AD: Really? Still waiting in line.
So I go to the bathroom to change out of my cardigan, put my jacket in my luggage and switch shirts. Since the one I'm wearing is drenched in sweat. Large westerner meats japanese toilet. Let's just say that me trying to change clothes in a japanese bathroom stall could have doubled as a script for mr Bean. I wasn't as much in the bathroom stall as I was wearing it. When I get back out again I recieve another text.
AD: Got it! I'm on the 11:43 train to Tokyo.
I look at the clock on the wall '11:33'. I check the information light board. 'Hmm, no trains leaving at 11:43 from here if I understand this correctly, but I need to get a move on. I'll ask the girl at the seat reservation desk'
I start heading towards said desk.
PW: Thanks for the headsup, pal! I need to make seat reservations. Might not make it in time.
AD: Oh just realised, the train leaves from your terminal earlier... comes to me at 11:43.
PW: !!!!!
So I turn and make a run for the trains, while explaining to anyone who would listen why I hate people. I make it to the right train just in time. Next stop is Narita Airport terminal 2 and I meet with Andreas.
'You do realize that if I get thrown off because I don't have seat reservations, I'll punch you in the nuts right?'
The conductor rolls by and asks us for tickets. There's a moment of suspense as he eyes my rail pass and asks 'Tokyo?' 'Hai!' He looks as if he's thinking 'Stupid tourist. How do you manage to not get this right? They make seat reservation for you at the desk where they give you the rail pass.' and then lets me go on.
Me and Andreas get off in Tokyo and enjoy some roastbeef sandwhich and pasta bolognese. Ain't nothing like tasting the local cuisine. Also enjoyed our first 14$ bottle of water ever in our lives. We drank in reverence. After being fed and watered we get on the train from Tokyo to Osaka. The journey takes almost exactly three hours and upon arriving in Osaka we wait for Stefan. And we wait. And wait. After another hour we call him asking him where he is. He of course asks the same. It takes a couple of minutes to determine that me and Andreas had gone to the wrong Osaka. Not as in 'the wrong Osaka town' but 'the wrong Osaka station'. Stefan offers to come pick us up. 'Yes please we would like that very much' and 25 minutes later we meet up!
And so ends part one of my travelogue of my trip to Japan. Hope you're enjoying it sofar and hope you didn't feel it was too longwinded.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
That magical moment
I just got home from watching 'The Intouchables' and while I was travelling home through the rain I started thinking. I was checking my blog, this therapy project that I sometimes dedicate myself to. Re-reading what once passed for comedy. Smiling at friendly comments, carefully stroking my own ego be sure to not touch that one sore spot. Am I isolated? Has this joking self-glorifying facade that I sometimes put on turned into what I am?
I looked up and realized that this was my stop. I stood up and noticed that the girl that had been glancing over in my direction the way you you would a celebrity most part of the trip was now staring right at me.
Needless to say it wasn't my stop at all. Needless to say I got off not to look like a fool. Needless to say she didn't.
Not to dwell on what could have been I made the best of it and took a walk. Even having time to make a snide remark about the rain to anyone who would listen on Facebook. During the walk the rain almost subsided, there was that slightly humid but still rainy and somehow warm feeling to the air. And I decided 'No that's not who I am'. I am humbled in front of girls and weather. I make silly mistakes and decide to joke about them. I am not my facade... the facade is a small small part of the mosaic that is me.
For those of you wondering if the title is referring to my moment of realization; it is not. It could be, but it's not.
In a time now long since buried, I experienced my one magical moment. It was one afternoon in, maybe february, 1999 but I'm not giving any guarantees as to the specific timing. I was still a University student. We had finished a lecture in, I believe it was, Physical Chemistry part B. That would put the specific time at almost precisely fifteen minutes past three. I can still remember exactly how uncomfortable the chairs in the lecture hall were. I was gathering my compendiums, stood up and there it was. My one magical moment.
Fairy tales will have you believe that if you share your special magical moment, it will lose its qualities. Let's find out shall we.
It wasn't a vague sensation. It was something I could actually see. A south american girl in my class, which I had never been infatuated with, never been attracted to, also stood up. Her seat was a couple of rows down from me so she was facing away from me and as she stood up something happened. There was a bright shining light about her head. It shimmered in the brightest silver and gold and black. I looked away and tried to see whether anyone else noticed, I even actually shook my head in disbelief. Then I looked back and it was still there. No one else could see it. By then people were waiting for me to get out of the way. I hesitantly turned away and made my way outside. The moment was over, but not lost. Forever with me. It took me weeks to figure out what really had happened.
*SPOILER* (if you want to believe in magic don't read this part)
The sun was so low, being a winter afternoon in Sweden, that it had shone in through one of the thin side windows, reflected off her jet black hair in a cascade of silver and gold making the sun reflection hit me and only me in the eyes. It is still my magical moment.
Good night Cyberspace, wherever you are.
Oh... and pro tip: Watch 'The Intouchables'
I looked up and realized that this was my stop. I stood up and noticed that the girl that had been glancing over in my direction the way you you would a celebrity most part of the trip was now staring right at me.
Needless to say it wasn't my stop at all. Needless to say I got off not to look like a fool. Needless to say she didn't.
Not to dwell on what could have been I made the best of it and took a walk. Even having time to make a snide remark about the rain to anyone who would listen on Facebook. During the walk the rain almost subsided, there was that slightly humid but still rainy and somehow warm feeling to the air. And I decided 'No that's not who I am'. I am humbled in front of girls and weather. I make silly mistakes and decide to joke about them. I am not my facade... the facade is a small small part of the mosaic that is me.
For those of you wondering if the title is referring to my moment of realization; it is not. It could be, but it's not.
In a time now long since buried, I experienced my one magical moment. It was one afternoon in, maybe february, 1999 but I'm not giving any guarantees as to the specific timing. I was still a University student. We had finished a lecture in, I believe it was, Physical Chemistry part B. That would put the specific time at almost precisely fifteen minutes past three. I can still remember exactly how uncomfortable the chairs in the lecture hall were. I was gathering my compendiums, stood up and there it was. My one magical moment.
Fairy tales will have you believe that if you share your special magical moment, it will lose its qualities. Let's find out shall we.
It wasn't a vague sensation. It was something I could actually see. A south american girl in my class, which I had never been infatuated with, never been attracted to, also stood up. Her seat was a couple of rows down from me so she was facing away from me and as she stood up something happened. There was a bright shining light about her head. It shimmered in the brightest silver and gold and black. I looked away and tried to see whether anyone else noticed, I even actually shook my head in disbelief. Then I looked back and it was still there. No one else could see it. By then people were waiting for me to get out of the way. I hesitantly turned away and made my way outside. The moment was over, but not lost. Forever with me. It took me weeks to figure out what really had happened.
*SPOILER* (if you want to believe in magic don't read this part)
The sun was so low, being a winter afternoon in Sweden, that it had shone in through one of the thin side windows, reflected off her jet black hair in a cascade of silver and gold making the sun reflection hit me and only me in the eyes. It is still my magical moment.
Good night Cyberspace, wherever you are.
Oh... and pro tip: Watch 'The Intouchables'
Thursday, February 16, 2012
No good deed goes unpunished
This blog post will have a completely different tone from the one I had imagined. I know, you might be tired of hearing me rant about yeah... you know... _that_ company. I actually was going to commend them for how well they had managed during the latest weather conditions. Despite the latest snows I still haven't been more than a minute late because of them. (I've been late for a number of other reasons like 'chronological optimism bordering on naiveté on my behalf' and 'talking too long with old friends'). So in a fit of uncomparable fairness I decided to write a blog post about how well they did. I mean if i reserve the right to moan and whine about them when they do wrong, I feel, at least a little, like I owe them a nice word when they exceed my expectations.
I started writing it yesterday with the intent of publishing it some time during the weekend or so. Then today happened. In the post where I described my latest enounter with the collection of navel-lint formerly known as Cave-mongo Inc, formerly known as Västtrafik I told you about how they managed to fuck up my auto-renewal. Last week I got a text from Aardvark Ltd telling me that my buspass was about to expire but it will autorenew on thursday (today).
'Neat, so it's working properly again then! Even with the auto-renewal.' I was a bit worried since the first renewal was most likely done manually that there might still be something wrong with the real auto-renewal process.
Then I got another text from them telling me that my buspass was about to expire but it will autorenew on thursday (today). And then another.
'Lol, they can't even do this right. They must have messed up the notifications somehow so I'm getting three notifications each time my buspass is about to expire.'
Today I got a text telling me that 75$ had been withdrawn from my account to renew my buspass. Then I got another. And then another.
'Lol they still haven't fixed the notification bug'
Yes, my dear reader I really am _that_ gullible. Or maybe it's that I'm so cheerful and loving that I always think the best of people. Or maybe, just maybe I expected that someone would do their job, properly. Obviously that was too much to ask from Invertebrates'RUs. Of course my imaginary world came crashing down around me. Of course they had triple-billed me. Not double-billed me. Triple-billed me.
I contacted customer support and of course I was greeted by a girl with a nice voice. I swear they do that just to throw me off track when I'm ready to tantrum. I'm such a newbie-rager, I let my rage subside if I'm confronted with things like kindness, professional treatment and understanding for my situation.
Unfortunately she was as about as competent as a door knob and had to go fetch another girl. They both reached the conclusion that something wasn't as it should be. I audibly slammed my fist into the sofa, it was all that I could do not to scream out:
'YOU THINK?!?!?!?!' out loud
'We have to pass this on to the economics department. They'll look into this tomorrow...
'OK.'
'... or within three days. Definitely within three days.'
I'm not making this up to make this sound like a bad movie dialogue. That is literally word for word what she said to me. Last time I got the 'Definitely within three days' I had to contact them after four and a half day. Let's just say that I'm restraining myself from optimism. At least she told me that she had all my details there so that the economics department doesn't have to ask me all that stuff again.
Pro tip: If you're buying food to have for dinner and decide on bratwurst because you're certain that you have one pack of instant mashed potatoes in the cupboard at home because you can picture that exact pack in your mind, make sure that that pack that you're picturing really really is mashed potatoes and not, say, a pack of bread crumbs.
I started writing it yesterday with the intent of publishing it some time during the weekend or so. Then today happened. In the post where I described my latest enounter with the collection of navel-lint formerly known as Cave-mongo Inc, formerly known as Västtrafik I told you about how they managed to fuck up my auto-renewal. Last week I got a text from Aardvark Ltd telling me that my buspass was about to expire but it will autorenew on thursday (today).
'Neat, so it's working properly again then! Even with the auto-renewal.' I was a bit worried since the first renewal was most likely done manually that there might still be something wrong with the real auto-renewal process.
Then I got another text from them telling me that my buspass was about to expire but it will autorenew on thursday (today). And then another.
'Lol, they can't even do this right. They must have messed up the notifications somehow so I'm getting three notifications each time my buspass is about to expire.'
Today I got a text telling me that 75$ had been withdrawn from my account to renew my buspass. Then I got another. And then another.
'Lol they still haven't fixed the notification bug'
Yes, my dear reader I really am _that_ gullible. Or maybe it's that I'm so cheerful and loving that I always think the best of people. Or maybe, just maybe I expected that someone would do their job, properly. Obviously that was too much to ask from Invertebrates'RUs. Of course my imaginary world came crashing down around me. Of course they had triple-billed me. Not double-billed me. Triple-billed me.
I contacted customer support and of course I was greeted by a girl with a nice voice. I swear they do that just to throw me off track when I'm ready to tantrum. I'm such a newbie-rager, I let my rage subside if I'm confronted with things like kindness, professional treatment and understanding for my situation.
Unfortunately she was as about as competent as a door knob and had to go fetch another girl. They both reached the conclusion that something wasn't as it should be. I audibly slammed my fist into the sofa, it was all that I could do not to scream out:
'YOU THINK?!?!?!?!' out loud
'We have to pass this on to the economics department. They'll look into this tomorrow...
'OK.'
'... or within three days. Definitely within three days.'
I'm not making this up to make this sound like a bad movie dialogue. That is literally word for word what she said to me. Last time I got the 'Definitely within three days' I had to contact them after four and a half day. Let's just say that I'm restraining myself from optimism. At least she told me that she had all my details there so that the economics department doesn't have to ask me all that stuff again.
Pro tip: If you're buying food to have for dinner and decide on bratwurst because you're certain that you have one pack of instant mashed potatoes in the cupboard at home because you can picture that exact pack in your mind, make sure that that pack that you're picturing really really is mashed potatoes and not, say, a pack of bread crumbs.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Valentines day, Whine-Horny and Sell-out
Yes, I have 'Every rose has its thorn' on repeat this Valentine's day as well. Starting to become bit of a tradition. Still I wish everyone a happy valentines day.
I read something this morning that made me all warm on the inside. Someone commented on a news article I read, writing something like 'That woman is really whine-horny'.I decided to pick up the term right there and then. Unfortunately I almost immediatly realised that my blog posts some of the time come across like I too might have an erotic fascination for complaining. Well my only excuse is that I don't do it for the sex.
Now a confession, if you look around this blog post you might notice that I've gone 'sell-out' on you all, my dear readers. Yup I let google in and let them display their fillthy capitalistic ads here. Apparently the ads will be based on your surfing habits and what I write about on the blog. That mix sure will be interesting to see. I'm guessing that you'll be seeing ads displaying Bitter-lemon, naked ladies and the latest Neanderthal exhibit, featuring life-size cave-men with bus driver uniforms. I'll let you draw your conclusion which of the ads are connected to my blog posts and which of them are related to your surfing. Actually, who am I kidding, they're all mine.
I don't have many reasons for taking on the ads. It's not like I'm going expecting to get rich from this. (better not, with my posting frequency). It was just one of those 'why not' things. If I'm met with violent protests and molotov cocktails through my living room window, I will remove them again, I promise. I can also be swayed with flatter and hugs. I actually prefer that to the violent approach, god knows my living room is cold enough as it is even with intact window panes.
I just have to point out that now I'm listening to a Lullabye version of 'Every rose has its thorn'. I suppose you really can find anything on the internet.
Pro tip: If someone that you interact with on a regular basis, say a good friend, boss or co-worker sends you a picture of their relatively newborn girl, keep in mind that not everyone automatically equates newborn baby with 'cute and beautiful', hence taking the following glib remark directed at the father 'I see she has her mothers looks and your intellect' to an entirely different level of disrespect.
I read something this morning that made me all warm on the inside. Someone commented on a news article I read, writing something like 'That woman is really whine-horny'.I decided to pick up the term right there and then. Unfortunately I almost immediatly realised that my blog posts some of the time come across like I too might have an erotic fascination for complaining. Well my only excuse is that I don't do it for the sex.
Now a confession, if you look around this blog post you might notice that I've gone 'sell-out' on you all, my dear readers. Yup I let google in and let them display their fillthy capitalistic ads here. Apparently the ads will be based on your surfing habits and what I write about on the blog. That mix sure will be interesting to see. I'm guessing that you'll be seeing ads displaying Bitter-lemon, naked ladies and the latest Neanderthal exhibit, featuring life-size cave-men with bus driver uniforms. I'll let you draw your conclusion which of the ads are connected to my blog posts and which of them are related to your surfing. Actually, who am I kidding, they're all mine.
I don't have many reasons for taking on the ads. It's not like I'm going expecting to get rich from this. (better not, with my posting frequency). It was just one of those 'why not' things. If I'm met with violent protests and molotov cocktails through my living room window, I will remove them again, I promise. I can also be swayed with flatter and hugs. I actually prefer that to the violent approach, god knows my living room is cold enough as it is even with intact window panes.
I just have to point out that now I'm listening to a Lullabye version of 'Every rose has its thorn'. I suppose you really can find anything on the internet.
Pro tip: If someone that you interact with on a regular basis, say a good friend, boss or co-worker sends you a picture of their relatively newborn girl, keep in mind that not everyone automatically equates newborn baby with 'cute and beautiful', hence taking the following glib remark directed at the father 'I see she has her mothers looks and your intellect' to an entirely different level of disrespect.
Tuesday, February 07, 2012
Sofas and Thingies
It's been a while since last. Sorry about that. I'm sure you've all missed me like a tooth ache. Because I'm so sweet! No that didn't make sense, I know.
Let's get the usual stuff out of the way so we can focus on more important stuff later. My rant about CaveMongo Inc. They've implemented a new business plan. It's called 'Take Peters money and still don't let him ride our vehicles'. It started with a beep too many. When I show my buspass to the thingy on the bus/tram it goes 'beep' and shows a friendly green light. A couple of weeks ago the thingy instead it went 'beepbeep' accompanied with an angry red light instead. I didn't think anything of it and figured that it just hadn't scanned my pass properly. (because that's the most common cause for getting ze old 'double-beep-red-light'). As time progressed I started noticing a trend. Every time I showed my pass I got the red light. After a day and a half I actually bothered to read the display:
'Expired'.
'AHA!' You all think, 'this will be a story about that fat retard not renewing his buspass in time.'
But no. I actually have my buspass on auto-renew, connected to my credit card. So I logged into my online-bank to check if any payments have failed. To my utter astonishment it had not. I'm as surprised as you dear reader, all signs point to the unlikely theory that CaveMongo Inc had fucked up. Me being a strong admirer of the worlds first private detective and his axiom 'When you've ruled out the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth' so I called customer service. The girl who answered had a friendly voice and asked me a lot of questions just like customer support usually do.
'Hi, my buspass isn't working, when I show it to the thingy on the bus it says 'expired'.
'Have you logged onto our webpage and checked the status of your card there?'
'Yes, it says expired'
'What's your card number?'
'123456789' (no not really)
'Ah yes I see here that your last renewal was in december. So everything is in order, you just haven't paid us. The auto-renewal must have failed somehow, sorry about that. I'll set up a new one'
'Hold it hold it hold it! We are going to hold it here. Here is where we will be holding. Holding is what we are going to do and 'it' is going to be what we are holding. You've taken money from my account on Jan 4th.'
'Uhhmm, well... I see'
'Yes'
'But then the renewal should be on its way, you just need to show your buspass to a reader and everything will be fixed, nothing to worry about.' (apparently 'reader' is the technical term for 'thingy'. I will continue to use the term 'thingy' not to confuse the blue and yellow gizmos with you guys. Now I have a mental image of people reading my blog while attached to the fixtures of a public transport vehicle)
'Do you remember the beginning of this conversation when I said that it said 'expired' when I showed my buspass to the thingy? One could say that it actually was one of the motivational forces for me to actually enter this conversation with you.'
'Yes... I'll have to transfer you to the economy department to see what went wrong, but they've already went home for the day. They'll be back on monday. What was that sound?'
'Nothing, just me carving a chunk of flesh from my thigh, have a nice weekend!'
'I've written down everything about your case here so you don't have to answer any questions.'
Come monday, I had a long electronical conversation with another customer support-person (not the economy department as promised), having to explain pretty much everything above again. Two days pass and nothing happens, not a word about anything. On wednesday evening I write an addendum to the conversation I've been having with 'other customer-support person':
'I realise that it's not very fun or motivational to listen to peoples complaints all day so I'll remain civilised. In exchange, can you please walk over to the economy department and pretend that I just called you and chewed your ass off'
After an hour a reply came back:
'We will be sending you a replacement card'
See? It pays off to be nice.
I've also bought a new sofa! It's very comfy, and large. I'd found a nice sofa on the internet for just about 1300$ and went to the furniture store to take a look at it in person and, you know, get acquainted with it, perhaps take it out to dinner and a movie if we hit it off. These kind of relationships you don't just rush into. After a couple of minutes we were interrupted by a sales-girl. She asked me if I had found something I liked and I asked her if this sofa was available in any other colours. A little away from the sofa of course not to hurt the sofas feelings. She had some samples for me to look at and I picked a colour I liked. We went downstairs to her desk and she started doing the paperwork and calculations then turned to me with a friendly smile.
'There, then it'll be 2500$'
I squinted my eyes suspiciously. 'Did you by chance perhaps sell used cars before you landed this job? Or maybe suspicious underwear subscriptions over the phone'
She then explained to me that the colour that I had found on the internet was on sale and it normally costed 2000$ and that the fabric I chose was a more expensive one.
'Oh ok. Well 2500$ is a bit steep for me. I'll get back to you.'
She gave me her phone number if I had a change of heart, but looked very disappointed. I got back home and pondered, gave the walls a good look. Picturing the sofa with the original colours, trying to make a mental image of what it would all look like together and decided that it probably would look pretty well together. The next day I went back and told the girl
'Yup the guy you never thought you'd see again is back.'
I've never seen anyone _that_ happy to see me. I suppose she really needed the sale or something. Or she thought I was handsome. Toss-up in my mind.
(here there would be a picture of the sofa if blogger hadn't gone all sofa-nazi on me and refused to upload it)
Pro tip of the day:
If you're sitting on a bus and have decided to shave your beard because it's starting to look 'above average sleazy' and is pondering what to say to the cute cashier at the store where you're buying your razor-blades to charm her and have finally settled on 'I've gotta get rid of this whole taliban-thing I've got going'. Then it's extremely crucial to make sure that you're just thinking it inside your head and not just blurting it out for everyone else on the bus to hear.
P.S. Today the thingy 'double-beeped' again stating 'Balance too low' as a reason. 'I don't need to have a balance! I've paid to ride for free the entire month!'. I swear I'm considering getting a car again, happily paying gas, insurance and taxes just to spite the motherfuckers. Fuck you, environment! If these retards are your ambassadors you should be shopping for new ones. I hear George W Bush is looking for a new job.
Let's get the usual stuff out of the way so we can focus on more important stuff later. My rant about CaveMongo Inc. They've implemented a new business plan. It's called 'Take Peters money and still don't let him ride our vehicles'. It started with a beep too many. When I show my buspass to the thingy on the bus/tram it goes 'beep' and shows a friendly green light. A couple of weeks ago the thingy instead it went 'beepbeep' accompanied with an angry red light instead. I didn't think anything of it and figured that it just hadn't scanned my pass properly. (because that's the most common cause for getting ze old 'double-beep-red-light'). As time progressed I started noticing a trend. Every time I showed my pass I got the red light. After a day and a half I actually bothered to read the display:
'Expired'.
'AHA!' You all think, 'this will be a story about that fat retard not renewing his buspass in time.'
But no. I actually have my buspass on auto-renew, connected to my credit card. So I logged into my online-bank to check if any payments have failed. To my utter astonishment it had not. I'm as surprised as you dear reader, all signs point to the unlikely theory that CaveMongo Inc had fucked up. Me being a strong admirer of the worlds first private detective and his axiom 'When you've ruled out the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth' so I called customer service. The girl who answered had a friendly voice and asked me a lot of questions just like customer support usually do.
'Hi, my buspass isn't working, when I show it to the thingy on the bus it says 'expired'.
'Have you logged onto our webpage and checked the status of your card there?'
'Yes, it says expired'
'What's your card number?'
'123456789' (no not really)
'Ah yes I see here that your last renewal was in december. So everything is in order, you just haven't paid us. The auto-renewal must have failed somehow, sorry about that. I'll set up a new one'
'Hold it hold it hold it! We are going to hold it here. Here is where we will be holding. Holding is what we are going to do and 'it' is going to be what we are holding. You've taken money from my account on Jan 4th.'
'Uhhmm, well... I see'
'Yes'
'But then the renewal should be on its way, you just need to show your buspass to a reader and everything will be fixed, nothing to worry about.' (apparently 'reader' is the technical term for 'thingy'. I will continue to use the term 'thingy' not to confuse the blue and yellow gizmos with you guys. Now I have a mental image of people reading my blog while attached to the fixtures of a public transport vehicle)
'Do you remember the beginning of this conversation when I said that it said 'expired' when I showed my buspass to the thingy? One could say that it actually was one of the motivational forces for me to actually enter this conversation with you.'
'Yes... I'll have to transfer you to the economy department to see what went wrong, but they've already went home for the day. They'll be back on monday. What was that sound?'
'Nothing, just me carving a chunk of flesh from my thigh, have a nice weekend!'
'I've written down everything about your case here so you don't have to answer any questions.'
Come monday, I had a long electronical conversation with another customer support-person (not the economy department as promised), having to explain pretty much everything above again. Two days pass and nothing happens, not a word about anything. On wednesday evening I write an addendum to the conversation I've been having with 'other customer-support person':
'I realise that it's not very fun or motivational to listen to peoples complaints all day so I'll remain civilised. In exchange, can you please walk over to the economy department and pretend that I just called you and chewed your ass off'
After an hour a reply came back:
'We will be sending you a replacement card'
See? It pays off to be nice.
I've also bought a new sofa! It's very comfy, and large. I'd found a nice sofa on the internet for just about 1300$ and went to the furniture store to take a look at it in person and, you know, get acquainted with it, perhaps take it out to dinner and a movie if we hit it off. These kind of relationships you don't just rush into. After a couple of minutes we were interrupted by a sales-girl. She asked me if I had found something I liked and I asked her if this sofa was available in any other colours. A little away from the sofa of course not to hurt the sofas feelings. She had some samples for me to look at and I picked a colour I liked. We went downstairs to her desk and she started doing the paperwork and calculations then turned to me with a friendly smile.
'There, then it'll be 2500$'
I squinted my eyes suspiciously. 'Did you by chance perhaps sell used cars before you landed this job? Or maybe suspicious underwear subscriptions over the phone'
She then explained to me that the colour that I had found on the internet was on sale and it normally costed 2000$ and that the fabric I chose was a more expensive one.
'Oh ok. Well 2500$ is a bit steep for me. I'll get back to you.'
She gave me her phone number if I had a change of heart, but looked very disappointed. I got back home and pondered, gave the walls a good look. Picturing the sofa with the original colours, trying to make a mental image of what it would all look like together and decided that it probably would look pretty well together. The next day I went back and told the girl
'Yup the guy you never thought you'd see again is back.'
I've never seen anyone _that_ happy to see me. I suppose she really needed the sale or something. Or she thought I was handsome. Toss-up in my mind.
(here there would be a picture of the sofa if blogger hadn't gone all sofa-nazi on me and refused to upload it)
Pro tip of the day:
If you're sitting on a bus and have decided to shave your beard because it's starting to look 'above average sleazy' and is pondering what to say to the cute cashier at the store where you're buying your razor-blades to charm her and have finally settled on 'I've gotta get rid of this whole taliban-thing I've got going'. Then it's extremely crucial to make sure that you're just thinking it inside your head and not just blurting it out for everyone else on the bus to hear.
P.S. Today the thingy 'double-beeped' again stating 'Balance too low' as a reason. 'I don't need to have a balance! I've paid to ride for free the entire month!'. I swear I'm considering getting a car again, happily paying gas, insurance and taxes just to spite the motherfuckers. Fuck you, environment! If these retards are your ambassadors you should be shopping for new ones. I hear George W Bush is looking for a new job.
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