That’s my filing pile being measured by my Star Wars ruler in front of my XFiles poster. I’m not sure if the photo makes the filing look scary enough. That’s a full day and a half’s worth.
I’m not blog posting or novel writing in an national daily participatory fashion this month, in case anyone is wondering. I’m still doing my writing contest with my classmates and I might write more about that some other time.
One of my two steps forward three steps back things involves my retirement plan from the old firm. I wasn’t going to write about it because it seemed bad form to whine about my retirement plan when people don’t have jobs. But then it’s sort-of a joke to call the money I’ve been squirreling away the past 20 years which is now worth only slightly more than if I’d lit it on fire a “retirement plan.”
I left my money in the firm’s plan when I left, intending to move it eventually but it was fine where it was. But the company that held the funds decided to discontinue small business retirement plans. I received a giant blob of papers and instructions that I needed to make a decision right away. So I made the phone calls, did the homework, filled out 37 pages of forms, got my husband’s notarized signature, my firm’s guaranteed signature and mailed it off all in plenty of time.
I phoned the fund company this week to follow up (10 days later): “We’ve no record of your paperwork.”
Now I’m on a deadline so I had to drop everything and start all over and then overnight the paperwork which is what I should have done in the first place. As of today it seems hopeful that this might be resolved. But too early for cartwheels.
Meanwhile, I had a bit of news from last weekend that I never shared. My husband and I are in possession of plane tickets to Amsterdam in March. [LameAss Airlines] was having a killer deal and we’d sorta been talking about it so we made some calls and then bought the tickets right away because it had to be done last weekend.
After I got my confirmation I realized there was a typo in my name. It’s not major but I didn’t want something like that to fubar our plans so I contacted the airline right away and explained the problem and asked if there was something I should do.
This is the [slightly edited] response I got:
Dear Mr. Rentz,
Thank you for contacting us through [out website]. We are sorry for the delay in responding to your message.
Once the tickets are issued, the name on the reservation cannot be changed.
Again, thank you for writing. We appreciate your selection of [our lameass airline] and will always welcome the opportunity to be of service.
First of all, computerbot OR foreign help desk: Pamela is a woman’s name. Try a little harder.
Second, I’m sorry. Did I miss something? Does that response qualify as “be[ing] of service” by any definition of that phrase?
Further research with no help by LameAss Airlines indicates that it probably won’t be an issue but if it is, it will be a ginormous pain-in-the-ass issue. I’m going to be at the airport in a couple of weeks and I’m going to see if I have any luck at the counter. I just don’t want to be prepared to board an international flight and have someone tell me that my ID doesn’t match the name on my ticket and to go home and better luck next time.
If they let you on the plane, you will love Amsterdam. We visited Anne's hiding place, and we ate lunch for breakfast every day (noon-ish in Amsterdam was our East Coast wakeup time), ate at the "garlic" restaurant (they even have garlic ice cream), enjoyed their "mall," where every single store (no matter what they mainly sold) sold Pringles, saw the naked girls in the windows in the Red Light district directly across the street from about three churches, had a crazy guy in McDonald's try to light our friend's coat on fire with his lighter, and went to see a live sex show. Oh yeah, and we also went to a windmill farm, but the sex show is what I remember most. And all the dirt and garbage in the canal. And the strange toilet and bathtub in the hotel room. You'll have a great time! Don't forget to try the brownies, and to visit the sex museum.
This kind of happened to me on our honeymoon – The Husband, bless his heart, booked our plane tickets with my married name. I think he thought the name change automatically, magically happens when one says I do. He contacted the airline, they said, too bad, can't change the name on a plane ticket after the reseration has been made! We brought my driver's license and the marriage license. It took a few extra minutes to get through security but that was all. Of course, it was a domestic flight but still – no major hiccups.
whoo hoo! amsterdam!
we've got nightmare stories over here this week with customer service. &@$&@$(*)&($*@&
catching up on your life this morning.