Category Archives: JOA does Germany


I am beside myself.

I cannot even put into words how  furious I am in regards to my dealings with the customer service people over at Chase Auto Finance. I am beyond baffled with how much these people suck.

Here is a fine example of the kind of service Chase has to offer to people who pay on time every month:

Scene one: 04/07/2010

me: “Hi there, I am calling to follow up on the request that I put in last week to have a copy of our title sent to the shipping company who is transporting our car to Germany”

e=mc^2:  ” Yes, ma’am (pronounced ‘mom’), I am showing that the fax was sent yesterday at 5:57pm.”

me: “Well, the guy over at the shipping company just emailed me and told me that he never received it. Are you sure that the fax actually went through and that there wasn’t some sort of error? Is there any confirmation of this?”

e=mc^2:  “Yes ma’am our records indicate that the fax went through.”

me: ” Hmm, really? Can you read me number that it was faxed to please?”

e=mc^2:  “Yes, it was faxed to XX5-XXX-XXXX…”

me:” XX5-XXX-XXXX? hmm…and you are POSITIVE that it went through?”

e=mc^2:  “Yes ma’am, it says right here that the fax went through…”

me: “..ok, and so what about the copy that I had requested to be mailed to my home address? Has that been sent out also?”

e=mc^2: ” I don’t see any request for that here in my records.”

me: ” You have got to be kidding. Not only did I call twice and was told both times that the request had been submitted, but I also gave the person I spoke with a new mailing address, please check your notes.”

e=mc^2: ” I am sorry ma’am, I do not see that request…”

at this point I could feel my pulse behind my eyes and I completely lost my cool. E=mc^2 apologized and promised to have another fax sent out as well as have a copy mailed to me by the end of the week. I explained to her that we have absolutely no time to waste and in order for our car to be put in that crate and on the boat, which is scheduled to ship out AFTER we have already left the country, they have to have that title. She said she would see what she could do to get the fax out and the conversation ended which is when it hit me that the fax number she had read back to me was incorrect. The number did not begin with XX5, it began with XX6. Fuck.

So out of plain old-fashioned curiosity and after recalling that e=mc^2 had CONFIRMED, and basically swore on her life, that the fax had indeed gone through without a hitch, I dialed the number and this is what I got:

” You have reached a non-working number”.

How does that happen? I mean, I am NO faxing expert, but from what I understand, a fax sent to a non-working number would not go through, and therefore a confirmation of “fax sent” would not be issued.

Basically, what it boils down to is that she LIED to me and she lied to the system. Not fresh at all. So I rang up Chase again and got F=ma on the phone.

me: “Hi, I just called a few minutes ago to check up on the status of my fax and after I hung up I discovered that the number you had sent the fax to was incorrect.”

F=ma: “Oh, I am so sorry, yes, I do see your call here and it looks like another request for fax has been submitted. Let me update the number in the system.”

me: “Thank you so much. Now the new fax request will be updated also, correct? I just want to make sure that it doesn’t get sent to the wrong number again.”

F=ma:”Yes, that is correct…”

me: ” Great, thanks.”

… I was pretty confident at this point that the little catastrophe had been sorted out. F=ma seemed to be on top of her game.

And then I woke up, literally, and began to write this post. About half way through yesterdays experience, I decided to put down the laptop and call Chase to confirm that my fax has been processed and sent to the right number just for piece of mind..

scene two: 04/08/2010

me: ” Hi there, I am just following up on a fax request that was sent out yesterday. I just want to make sure that it got sent out today.”

a^2+b^2=c^2: “Hello ma’am, yes I do see that your request went through and it was sent  this morning.”

me: “Oh, excellent, so that was the 2nd request, right? Because the first fax went to the wrong number  and I called yesterday afternoon to have that corrected.

a^2+b^2=c^2: “What is the fax number you wanted this sent to ma’am?”

me: “Uuuum, let me see, oh yeah XX6..”

a^2+b^2=c^2: “XX6? Not XX5?..”

me: “..please do not tell me that this was sent to XX5. I called you yesterday at 3:36pm and had the number corrected.”

a^2+b^2=c^2: “I am so sorry ma’am, according to my records this fax was sent to the number beginning with XX5..let me check my notes…oh yes, I see here where you called with the XX6 number…”

me: “@(@#*)@!! @*#(@#*#)@(!?!?! *#*%&@(#)*$!?!?!?”

a^2+b^2=c^2: “Can you please hold… I am going to transfer you to a supervisor”

The drudge supervisor eventually got on the phone and offered me a mass-produced apology. He said he was going to have this expedited and faxed to the CORRECT number within the hour. I am expecting much more of the same: BULLFUCK.

…until next time.

This weeks incidence of high-blood pressure was brought to y0u by the dick-hole-mother-fuckers over at Chase Auto Finance

Stay tuned for the next post, in the series “tragic bullshit”, about what happens when two  HR departments, a blow-up “lawyer”, and two knowledge-less “relocation specialists” who haven’t updated their procedure files in 30 years, fuck up a visa and make us do all the work.




The Calm before the Straight Jacket.

Yesterday, after nearly 6 long stupid months of waiting, we finally got the contract. You know, the contract. The one from the German office, confirming our move, effective May 3, 2010. Yes, THAT big fat flappin’ contract. (Holla!)

Smell ya later America. It’s been really neat having you as a country. I’ve learned a lot about how to illegally obtain valium when the doctor cuts me off, how to get the most boob job for my buck, and also, what to look out for when it comes to smuggling in Mexicans.

…boy am I going to miss Hawaii though, and Taco Bell. And what the hell am I going to do in all that SNOW? And with all of that sausage? So much sodium, sigh, it can’t be good for a person.

So many decisions to make but so MUCH to get through first. It’s dreadful enough moving to a new apartment in the same city you are already in, but moving to an entirely new country is an absolutely mind boggling experience and we’ve barely just begun.

My “anxiety” problem, which I thought was bad last month, has now, I believe, turned into full blown psychosis. I really, really should not have quit that medication. I am repeating myself. I know. It helps me. I swear. There is a reason why they keep crazy people locked up: it’s so that they STAY IN ONE PLACE. This helps to prevent additional unnecessary insanity. I get that now. I really do.

I take comfort knowing you are all here. You are my constant(s) through these uncertain, unnerving, times…permanent perverted preverted fixtures in my life that I can always count on helping during the most whackingest of times. Thank you.

Oh and Frankzzz. guess what? My Shoes, the ones you love so very much and that you fantasize about, are on a UPS delivery truck headed toward San Francisco from New York with an expected arrival date of March, 30! OMG, you cannot wait Frankzzz! You simply cannot wait!

My latest project… my sanctuary and the only major piece of furniture we are taking with us to Germany. This is actually an antique bed frame brought over from England, some 80 odd years ago. It’s practically going home.



T Minus 6 Weeks and Counting.

Things have been so intense around here due to the moving-to-a-foreign-country-where-it-snows in 6 weeks or less thing, that I have literally begun to radiate anxiety. It’s blinding and debilitating. Lord have mercy, I’ve only got so many god given teeth I can grind!

I chock it all up to my fear of being displaced and out of control, and also because, holy heck y’all, I’m going to be an immigrant, and quite frankly, not being “the shit” anymore, as we Americans are born and raised to think we are, makes me feel a little bit Mexican.

What if they laugh at my German? Or even worse, what if they laugh at my English?

That sausage is not pure.

An injustice has been done.

Give the lady your credit card sir.

Long live the King Queen.



Baby Steps, Baby.

The good:

Husband “bumped” into the person who we have been anxiously waiting to hear from, regarding whether or not we are actually moving to Germany, and sure enough he confirmed it, congratulated Husband on his promotion, and told him that they were working on the budget which should be sorted out within the next two weeks as they still plan on having  us over there by April 1st. Yippee!

I know that for months we have been told that it was a sure thing but I still had my doubts. Anything could go wrong and it seemed almost too good to be true. But now I can say with certainty that we will be taking Germany to the next level very very soon.

Now, what I am most excited about, other than the fact that we will be living in Europe (hello!!) and having all kind of neat adventures, is moving out of the crap-hole apartment we live in currently. I never wanted to live here. In fact, I remember the very first time we came to have a look at it I ran out of the building in tears. We only moved in because his brother was moving out and it was under rent control, so it was dirt cheap. It is just plain ugly. No amount of feng shui could make this apartment pleasant and I certainly never felt inspired to do anything with it. So, to say that I am excited to live in a house where the windows actually CLOSE, in a building which has been properly maintained, and that doesn’t smell like a dirty russian pickle, is actually… an understatement.

The Bad:

Facebook.

Hangover.

Tooth Sensitivity.

…nuff said.



New Friends. Rules Attached.

First off, please run to your nearest liqour cabinet and pour yourself a shot of whatever you’ve got left in honor of HairGLOOM cause today’s his birthday. Gross.

So, tonight, in celebration of  Hairy’s big disgusting entrance into this world, I will be whipping up a lovely feast starting with an appetizer of musckles and leeks sauteed in white wine sauce containing butter and other natural ingredients… followed by the main course: steak au poivre with frites ala fuck me hard and sauteed asparagus. And lastly, for dessert, we will be having  puff pastry topped with fresh berries, whipped lemon curd, and shaved dark chocolate + a pthth of mint.

You may all STFU.

Now, on to the business of New Friends. I’ve made up my mind about how I am going to go about making new friends when I move. I am not trying to come off as some arrogant jerk, BUT, because I am so sick of assholes, I have come up with some criteria that must be met for a new acquaintance to be considered for this position in my life.

1. I don’t wanna be Facebook friends. If you prefer to be home on Facebook than in a bar with me, in Germany, getting tanked and making fun of my husband, then why even submit your resume. Go home already. Let me get on with my new life.

2. I am giving precedence. For instance, Germans, French, Belgian, Swiss, Irish, Spanish, and Italians will get priority, over say, the English, and this is mainly because the English complain so damn much and they cannot cook or appreciate good food. I hate whiners and, more than that, I hate party poopers.  Now, I am not saying I wont become friends with someone from England, heck I have plenty of friends there already, but the question begs to be asked: do I really need any more?

Also, I am 100% over Americans so if you are from the US and see me coming down the street carrying a beer and wearing a mini-skirt in the dead of winter because “hellooo, I’m hawwt!”, don’t even bother. You will be talking to the (frost bitten) hand. Sure,sure,  I will make exceptions, but don’t bet your Friday night on it.

3. If you are male, and refer to my tits in conversation, forget it, you are probably Greek and my husband has forbidden me to become friends with Greek men. (ah ah aaaah).

4. If you spot me behaving unintentionally/unknowingly inappropriate, and you do not pull me aside and say “hey, look lady, here in Germany we don’t…” then you are not someone I can respect and this interview is over. I will do my best to acculturate, however, I come from one of the rudest most full of shit self absorbed countries full of douche bag idiots on the planet, I’m gonna make mistakes, now go fuck your mother.

5. Don’t pretend that you are Italian so that I will like you,  ask me if I’d like a job, and then put me to work in your sweatshop. They will hear me cry.

6. I am not a Turkish prostitute. If you had to ask, we cannot be friends.

Holla!

Happy Birthday Hairy! I Love You!



Good Results.

Today began earlier than I would have liked.

You see, it was storming like hell. Thunder, lightening…the works. However, it wasn’t the lightening or the loud thunder that woke me from my sake induced sleep, but the sound of about 20 disgruntled pigeons, lined up along  my window sill, going ape-shit, flapping their wings against the window, straight up “screaming”.

The final straw was when, in addition to flapping and screaming at the top of thier bird-sized lungs, they began PECKING on the glass with their crooked mutated beaks. I tried my best to ignore them, but when I realized that it wasn’t going to stop unless I did something about it, I got up, went to the window, and this is the look they gave me:

Total fucking assholes .

Anyway, Husband got a call from The Boss in Germany. We learned that they are covering our moving expenses 100% and that they are putting us up in a fancy pants hotel for a month while we work with relocation agents to find our “perfect German home”.Yipee! I LOVE hotels. I love maid service and room service… heck, I just love being served, period.

In regards to salary, we were pleasantly surprised, OK, fuck that…we were shockingly surprised with the offer and if we weren’t so hung over, there would have been a lot of dancing going on. No negotiation needed. So long poverty, hello weekends in Paris!

…and just yesterday I was (-) <– this close to doing a swan dive off of the GG Bridge.

Happy Birthday Samplepickle!



Arschloch (?) Merci mon ami.

I have eaten and drank enough in the last two nights to keep me through about 16 winters. In fact, the amount of tequila I drank could probably power an entire village in Mexico. I don’t even like Tequila. What is wrong with me? Oh yea, I am moving to Germany in March <insert a little dance here>.

How fucking crazy is that?

I need to de-meat and figure this shit out.

I need coffee. wah.

In other news:

The Shitting Lady was once again spotted outside holding a conversation with herself yesterday afternoon. I was going to phone up the police again, as they told me to do whenever I saw her in the hood, however, I no longer care.. so call, I did not. From now on, I am not going to allow myself to get all worked up over any form of shit that goes on in, or near, my place of residence. I am officially washing my hands of it and will do as the rest of these fuckers around here do and pretend that the pooping bandit does not exist.  Seriously,  I am sick and tired of being the only member of neighborhood watch. This is San Francisco, a city where multi-million dollar homes share  fences with housing projects. There will always be problems and, frankly, I am tired of standing up for my rights. Fuck it. SO, from now on, the grouchy asshole scooter riding lesbian couple who live below us,  better known as  “two dykes, one bike”, can chase away the scum and call the city when the entry way is used for a shit-athon.  I’m through girl.

****

I’ve been having bursts of happiness. Basically, I will be sitting around, with my standard face on, when all of a sudden I am overcome by an intense wave of  elation. I am convinced that this is the first stage leading up to full blown insanity…either that or perhaps I am experiencing Prozac poop-out and I have been suppressing my natural tendency toward looniness by taking SSRI’s for all of these years. This blog is really just me using technology to talk to myself. I am like a white color basket case. Dude, somebody call Lifetime.

+++++

I have been having heart palpitations again and while they do compliment my “happy spells” rather nicely, it is REALLY stressful wondering if this might be the flutter that takes me into full blown cardiac electrical failure. I mean, I know better, they are benign, and I’ve experienced this off and on since I was a kid but still. I am in a vulnerable place, what with giving up the only seat on neighborhood watch, moving to a foreign country, and being on the brink of loosing my mind. Did I forget to mention that last night, I learned (from a German living here), that in Germany if one tries to speak German, to a German, and doesn’t pronounce words properly, or misuses a word, they will think you are some sort of idiot and won’t even attempt to talk to you, correct you, or help you?!  I mean, heck, I have been studying with the intention of actually TALKING to people in German and although I suck at it now, I’d like to properly learn it… so do they have to be mean? Please say it ain’t so. Apparently, they prefer talking to foreigners, such as myself, in English because they like practicing their English and they would rather use English in conversation if possible. WTH?! I am not moving to Germany so that I can speak English. I want the full effect dammit. What is wrong with this world?

++++

I’m bored.