zozo the deadbeat

to the tune of: Radetzky March by Strauss

It seems I've been delinquent. Delinquent in updating this blog. And delinquent in paying my wireless bill, which has currently swelled to over $247.

Why, you ask? Because they're still overcharging me for a phone I never ordered, and they haven't been too interested in rectifying this problem since I called them back in October. But apparently someone must have noticed because I've been turned over to a cut off your toes-style collections agency.

I was standing outside Gates talking to Kendra and my research advisor when my phone rang. The shadowy caller blocked caller ID so I thought it was someone calling from a dorm. But no, when I answered the phone I was talking to a husky-sounding man who sounded like he could come hunt me down and break my kneecaps. They get their most intimidating-sounding people to hound people to pay their bills I guess. Turns out this was in fact a Cingular customer service rep.

To make a long and not particularly interesting story involving another hour of phone time short, I may or may not have phone service come tomorrow. Cingular remains on my hit list.

In other news, I shamelessly plug, as heckled at Flicks and derided in a Daily column: Viennese Ball!. Free dance lessons start Saturday if you don't know how to dance but still want to experience "one night of strappy blackness". 2.5 weeks left and the entire Opening is finally choreographed, including tonight's little workshop on walking and bowing.

If I ever donate to the Stanford Fund (oh no, that's The Stanford Fund with a capital 'T'), I'm going to be sure to make it contingent on students not having to write any of those bloody letters. Speaking of which, and delinquency, I need to go start them now...

ahhh, i'm back..

Over break I learned my parents' list of Subtle Ways to Wake Mike Up:

Burst into the room to check your e-mail

Ring the doorbell

Call the house

Vacuum the whole downstairs

Use a leaf blower outside

But I'm back in the Bay now, on Caltrain after a harrowing race to the AirTrain, and then BART. Someone actually published a study on how awful BART ticket machines are and how hard they are to figure out. I never really appreciated that until now. (You would think they would have done something about it after achieving such notoriety. You would be wrong.) They demands money without telling you how much or what for; you're supposed to look that up on a chart first. But it doesn't like just any dollar bill...oh no, it's quite selective. Naturally you can't use a credit card to buy less than $20 of BARTness, or if you can I couldn't figure out how to do it in the 10 seconds I thought I had. Finally I found $2 and just resigned myself to get gypped out of 50 cents. I still don't really have time to read so I push the button next to the thing that looks like a ticket. Nope, the most alluring option is an expensive BART Plus ticket, which I didn't care to figure out what was. Finally I get my stupid ticket, charge through the gate, and just make it onto the train, only to sit there at the station for 5 minutes anticlimactically, as if BART were laughing at me.

Lesson learned: It takes exactly 22 minutes to get from row 19 of a Northwest flight full of people in no particular hurry to get off to a BART train, including a bathroom stop. All in all, not bad.

Another discovery: Life Aquatic: Weird movie. Funny at times. But way more of Bill Murray in a Speedo than I needed.

And a massage is the perfect antidote to six hours of Northwest.

10...9...oh dick, we love you...7...6...dick, wish you were here...4...3...did we mention dick's not here?...1...happy new year!

Yes, happy new year everyone! I was ready to shoot Regis and getting a little sick of the Dick Clark lovefest but, yup, that ball dropped right on schedule. There's something great about having Colin Powell be in charge of pushing The Button, cause he tries so hard to do the same thing in his day job...

It's green again! All the snow is gone, washed away in a freak rainstorm and warm day. "How long until it gets cold again?" Dad had to ask while we were walking the dog. Sure enough, it plummeted 30 degrees within 12 hours. Nice going, Dad. Although tonight's ice will be gone come Sunday. Michigan weather is fickle.

All in all it's been a quiet break. Got a nice dose of euchre...if I didn't get so rusty throughout the year I probably wouldn't suck so much now. And I got my snow and kielbasa for the year. And more than enough family politics.

Someday soon I'm gonna have to stop staying up till 5 AM. But not today...