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Painted Faces Fill The Places I Can't Reach

March 14, 2009 Friends / Health
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So I’ve been hav­ing trou­ble with my driver’s license lately.

First time was when I tried to use it to con­firm my iden­tity for the Quizno’s 1,000,000 Free Subs pro­mo­tion. (You had to fill out a web­site and print out a coupon with your name and info and it had the store owner check your ID.) I had heard about a bunch of places turn­ing down the coupons, so I was pre­pared for some sort of shake­down there. The oner told me, “She’s not you,” while point­ing at the pic­ture. Ouch! It was from when I was grow­ing out my hair, but damn. I pointed out the license clearly shows my sex as M. She grudg­ingly accepted that it was me, and then punched the code into the credit card machine to redeem it. The machine spit out a rejec­tion. I’m fairly cer­tain she just punched in the num­ber wrong to avoid giv­ing me a free sand­wich. That’s OK, I’ve always hated Quizno’s and this just reaf­firms my one-​man boycott.

But yes­ter­day, when I went to Zen with Les­ley M, the bouncer stared at my ID for the longest time. He kept look­ing back and forth between the pic­ture and my face. After a while, I had WTF face going, and he gave the license to the other bouncer, who also took a hard look. The sec­ond bouncer finally just asked me what the address on the license was. I actu­ally blanked for a sec­ond because I don’t remem­ber my Davis addresses any­more, and I didn’t remem­ber which Davis address it was. Luck­ily, I guessed right that it was the address for Avalon, and the two of them let me in.

I sup­pose I should take this as a com­pli­ment, but in the short term, it is quite annoy­ing to risk not get­ting into some­thing with my own legit ID.

(It's Not Me) Talking

March 4, 2008 Life, the Universe, and Everything / Money
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So I got an inter­est­ing let­ter in the mail the other day. I had actu­ally set up my mail to be for­warded to my Min­nesota address the day after I came over here, but Jimmy P says that I still got some at Mon­ster House.

Any­way, a cou­ple of peo­ple asked for my snail mail address, so I was kinda sorta expect­ing some­thing, but what I got was def­i­nitely a sur­prise. It was a let­ter from Wells Fargo, for­warded from Mon­ster House, inform­ing me that the address on my bank account had been changed to 3829 Polton Place Way, San Jose, CA 95121 – 1934. The funny thing is, I have no idea where that is. It’s cer­tainly not my address, or any of my pre­vi­ous addresses.

I hopped online to check things out, but looks like all my money is still there. I changed my account to my Min­nesota address and also called Joe M and asked him to look into things for me. Today, when I signed onto my account online, I had to answer some secu­rity ques­tions. Which is really, really bad secu­rity. Instead of hav­ing one good pass­word (every­one has a strong pass­word with non-​alphanumeric char­ac­ters, right?), you get three easy-​to-​crack pass­words that are guar­an­teed to be nor­mal words. Some of the “secu­rity ques­tion” answers are actu­ally a mat­ter of pub­lic record and can be looked up online.

So yeah… every­one be care­ful with your iden­ti­ties, or some­one else could soon be talk­ing with your voice. And credit card.

Oh, and Merry C… that’s why I haven’t trans­ferred rent to you yet… I was a lit­tle scared to use my account.

EDIT: I found out this was Les­ley M’s address, and the let­ter was to inform me that ADK’s account had been changed to her address. I for­got that when I trans­fered the account to Aaron L, he didn’t change the address on it. But still, since I didn’t have my name on the account any­more, you’d think it the let­ter would have been addressed to Aaron L.