2Modern Design Talk - Modern Furniture & Design Blog: Forget the Wrapping Paper and Fancy Ribbon...
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Thursday, June 4, 2009
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Le sigh
Hm.
What to say about Michigan State's loss.
Before I get into the game, I have to say how irresponsible the press prelude to this game was. The state of Michigan's economic woe could not have been solved by a Spartan victory last night. To try and put the fate of Michigan's fiscal stability on the shoulders of 19 year old communications majors is unjust to both MSU players who don't need that extra psych-out but also deflects responsibility away from the idiotcrats who deserve it. Additionally, as a lifelong Spartan fan, I can safely say that most of metro Detroit could not give a shit less about MSU during football season but come March Madness all of a sudden everyone is a Spartan fan.
Back to the game...
UNC did what they always do. They got their run and they ran with it. MSU failed to do what it's good at- controlling the pace, slowing down, taking their time and doing it right. Last night they tried to play UNC's quick, cutting game. They couldn't do it; they quickly got flustered and made foolish mistakes.
For his part, Tom Izzo again proved himself. Whatever he said at the half registered- MSU came out stronger and harder. But the gap was too big and Carolina was too ready.
Readiness may well be the theme of this National Championship. UNC's squad was ready with five senior starters fresh off a devastating Championship loss last year. Izzo's Spartans were young and unprepared for the level of basketball drama. But Tom Izzo is playing chess- building his squad, making his move slowly.
Bottom line: they'll be back.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Identity Crisis
So here's whats up.
I have fallen victim to the identity theft game. Yes. Its true. Someone has robbed me of my social security number, created bunk accounts, fraudulently accepted services and health care - using all of my information. The long and short of it is that I'm fucked. Nearly two years ago, I was robbed. I was approached in the parking lot, of a well lit gas station, by an old man wearing a trench coat. Here is the dialogue we exchanged:
"Can I have your purse?" -- Robber.
"Ha..Ha.." -- Me, the fool.
"No. Really." -- Robber.
This man was old enough to be my grandfather and looked mostly harmless. Sadly, I'm always expecting to be raped, attacked, shot, stabbed and die - thus, I was worried he came with weapons. He was calm. I thought he was joking. I laughed. He wasn't joking. I gave him my bag of bullshit and left. I immediately canceled my credit cards and thought all was good in the hood. Turns out, my social security card was in said wallet.
Today, only after receiving checks and a debit card from a bank that has now frozen my accounts so hard that they will not even talk to to me on the phone, for fear that I am Rachel #2 (the perpetrator). The little advice/information they did extend to me was that I need to fetch them a original birth certificate, a new social security card and my most recent tax return. Sadly. I've lost my social security card (like an idiot), only have a copy of my birth certificate and need one or the other to get the valid replacements of either.
In addition to the fuckery that TCF Bank (The Cunt Factory as I have now deemed the institution) is throwing my way, I got served. Yes. Served.
Harmless, older man comes to the door looking as any other salesmen would. This man did not offer lawn services or religious documents - he had a "request and right for garnishment" court document. The document stated that I was to pay $3,500 to some law firm, excluding attorney fees and other miscellaneous fines for a defaulted account. Turns out if you don't hand it to them, they'll come and take it from you. Nice.
Upon close review of this document, I realized that the bank it was going to was not the bank I'd had my one and ONLY credit account with. It was a different bank, account number and amount.
The best part of all of this is that I've been paying on this account for the last 10 months. Because it was another Capital One account, I'd neglected to check for my original account number each billing period. What does this all mean? I've now defaulted on my account, leaving a legitimate $400 dollar debt to my actual name, with an additional $3500 one that the other Rachel Hogan opened up. I'm an idiot.
At this time, it seemed wise to check my credit report. I now have 4 open accounts. ONE OF WHICH I ACTUALLY OPENED. My bank account has now been closed and the bank has "absorbed" my savings. I have a solid 517 credit score and have an appointment with a lawyer on the 3rd.
As though bad doesn't always get worse for me, I began bartending again on Monday. My first table sat for 4 hours, drank water, used 4 extra chairs for coat storage (elimainating the other potential table I might get) and had a bill of $24. He paid with a credit card. My tip? Oh, I was left with a business style card reading:
"I didn't leave a tip. This wasn't because the service was bad, but because you failed to check my ID. The back of my credit card said "see ID". Tell your co-workers."
If you need me, I'll be at home, pissed. I'll be alone, broke - researching identity theft, waiting for my court date and listening to "the sun will come out tomorrow" - by Annie.
I have fallen victim to the identity theft game. Yes. Its true. Someone has robbed me of my social security number, created bunk accounts, fraudulently accepted services and health care - using all of my information. The long and short of it is that I'm fucked. Nearly two years ago, I was robbed. I was approached in the parking lot, of a well lit gas station, by an old man wearing a trench coat. Here is the dialogue we exchanged:
"Can I have your purse?" -- Robber.
"Ha..Ha.." -- Me, the fool.
"No. Really." -- Robber.
This man was old enough to be my grandfather and looked mostly harmless. Sadly, I'm always expecting to be raped, attacked, shot, stabbed and die - thus, I was worried he came with weapons. He was calm. I thought he was joking. I laughed. He wasn't joking. I gave him my bag of bullshit and left. I immediately canceled my credit cards and thought all was good in the hood. Turns out, my social security card was in said wallet.
Today, only after receiving checks and a debit card from a bank that has now frozen my accounts so hard that they will not even talk to to me on the phone, for fear that I am Rachel #2 (the perpetrator). The little advice/information they did extend to me was that I need to fetch them a original birth certificate, a new social security card and my most recent tax return. Sadly. I've lost my social security card (like an idiot), only have a copy of my birth certificate and need one or the other to get the valid replacements of either.
In addition to the fuckery that TCF Bank (The Cunt Factory as I have now deemed the institution) is throwing my way, I got served. Yes. Served.
Harmless, older man comes to the door looking as any other salesmen would. This man did not offer lawn services or religious documents - he had a "request and right for garnishment" court document. The document stated that I was to pay $3,500 to some law firm, excluding attorney fees and other miscellaneous fines for a defaulted account. Turns out if you don't hand it to them, they'll come and take it from you. Nice.
Upon close review of this document, I realized that the bank it was going to was not the bank I'd had my one and ONLY credit account with. It was a different bank, account number and amount.
The best part of all of this is that I've been paying on this account for the last 10 months. Because it was another Capital One account, I'd neglected to check for my original account number each billing period. What does this all mean? I've now defaulted on my account, leaving a legitimate $400 dollar debt to my actual name, with an additional $3500 one that the other Rachel Hogan opened up. I'm an idiot.
At this time, it seemed wise to check my credit report. I now have 4 open accounts. ONE OF WHICH I ACTUALLY OPENED. My bank account has now been closed and the bank has "absorbed" my savings. I have a solid 517 credit score and have an appointment with a lawyer on the 3rd.
As though bad doesn't always get worse for me, I began bartending again on Monday. My first table sat for 4 hours, drank water, used 4 extra chairs for coat storage (elimainating the other potential table I might get) and had a bill of $24. He paid with a credit card. My tip? Oh, I was left with a business style card reading:
"I didn't leave a tip. This wasn't because the service was bad, but because you failed to check my ID. The back of my credit card said "see ID". Tell your co-workers."
If you need me, I'll be at home, pissed. I'll be alone, broke - researching identity theft, waiting for my court date and listening to "the sun will come out tomorrow" - by Annie.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Its time to write.
What the hell?
I haven't posted in God knows how long and I have no idea why.
Actually I may know the culprit here...
We got a Wii.
The wii is the devil. It is addicting and its causing me to wanna kick some ass in tennis instead of getting my life together. Figures.
Let me redeem myself...
I bought the Wii with the idea of getting fit. Laugh all you want, but its been proven that playing the wii causes circulation flow, quicker responses from your brain and so on and so on. I have yet to buy the Wii fit. I tried two stores yesterday and they were both sold out. Whatever. So far tennis is kicking my ass...
Anyway I guess it was my turn to apologize for being the worlds laziest blogger.
I'm sorry
gee
I haven't posted in God knows how long and I have no idea why.
Actually I may know the culprit here...
We got a Wii.
The wii is the devil. It is addicting and its causing me to wanna kick some ass in tennis instead of getting my life together. Figures.
Let me redeem myself...
I bought the Wii with the idea of getting fit. Laugh all you want, but its been proven that playing the wii causes circulation flow, quicker responses from your brain and so on and so on. I have yet to buy the Wii fit. I tried two stores yesterday and they were both sold out. Whatever. So far tennis is kicking my ass...
Anyway I guess it was my turn to apologize for being the worlds laziest blogger.
I'm sorry
gee
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Neil Young
Yo.
First and foremost, after reading the last few blogs posted by the fabulous C-bo, I've realized that my postings make me sound as deep as the depressions on a nickle. Sorry for this. You ought to have been warned. I should have said something.
(( I swear I'm deep. I care about world peace, Eco-friendly shit and Elephants. How much deeper do you want? :))
Now, onto more pressing matters. I feel I am a driven person. When I set my mind to doing something, in most cases - I succeed. Sadly, I focus my energy on absurd goals. This being said, my March resolution is to find out where Neil Young lives, speak with him, and coerce him into falling in love with me. I realize this could be a difficult mission, but I plan on succeeding. Take note of the fact that I make monthly resolutions as opposed to a yearly one. I tend to lose focus after a few weeks, thus monthly aspirations are much more tangible.
I have searched for information on him relentlessly via the inter-webs and have come up with some promising results. Turns out, he currently resides in California, while holding properties in Florida and throughout the islands of Hawaii. Now. For those of you readers who have decided I'm a psycho stalker, you've been mislead. The reality of my unique aspiration holds nothing but good intentions. I would like to express to him how greatly his music has shaped the entirety of my life. At a young age, I was introduced to Neil Young's beautiful music and eloquent lyrical expression. Over the years, Neil has managed to excite me, calm me and easy my mind throughout times of struggle. Neil Young's music has been the backdrop for many of the most memorable moments in my life. I would love to tell him this.
You may be wondering about the coercion part. .
I believe that I should have been born in 1958, give or take a year. At the ripe age of 16 (1974), I would have been wondering about Nixon, waiting for Ted Bundy to kill me, peacefully swaying to Joni Mitchell's new album "Court and Spark", saying goodbye to Ed Sullivan, dancing to "killer queen" by Queen", becoming a "rebel, rebel" (Bowie), preaching peace with other hipsters and attending as many Led Zeppelin, Bob Dylan, CSNY, Hendrix and Beatles concerts as possible. For whatever reason, 1974 sounds a bit more appealing that 2009, featuring Solja Boi. Call me crazy.
I feel cheated. Now, at the age of twenty-two, I am left shiftless. Had I in fact been born in 58', I would have had plenty of time to embrace the new sexual revolution, cannabis and perhaps LSD. I would have been completely strung out and willing to "explore myself" with the musical greatness that was around for the taking. Perhaps I'd have been a groupie. NOW, I am forced to grab onto whatever paisley printed, poorly made t-shirt I can find from the Westland Mall and play fake Hippie - all while driving around in my cobalt, with Pucholli air fresheners strewn about, listening to Neil Young live, from my IPod. Fuck.
This all being said, I have got to do this. I haven't got much more time. Wish me luck.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Oh, Canada!
The other night, while watching Degrassi: The Next Generation, my friends and I came to the realization that none of us really know what the fuck is going on in Canada. So I put it on my to-do list to google Canada. This is what I've unearthed:
Ah, Canada. Breathe it in.
Canada, as most people will readily tell you, is America's wacky cousin to the north. Something I did not know about Canada is that is the second largest country in the world in area. Canucks! Who would've thought?
Canada is also divided into provinces.
They're like states but bigger and more Canadian. And unlike states in the US, Canadian provinces have actual power. In fact, in Canada, it is the provinces that enact most of the social systems, not the federal government. The provinces also have more money than the federal government. Apparently, no other country in the world divides power this way.
I decided, upon learning this that the most fruitful approach to wrestling Canada into my intellectual headlock would be to explore the provinces (and three territories!) one at a time. Starting in the northwest.
The Yukon Territory!
From what I gathered, the Yukon Territory, despite laying claim to the oldest human remains in North America, was one of the last places the white devil tried to penetrate. However, penetrate he did. The Russkis were the first, back in 1740 but peaced out pretty quickly. Representatives of the Hudson Bay Company (specializing in mining, commerce, expansion and undoubtedly genocide) scurried up there from British Colombia roundabouts 1840. Native Inuit people, less than thrilled to have their main trade route squatted on by the blue-eyed devils, waited until the fort settlement was empty, robbed it and burned it down. Undaunted, the Hudson Bay company proceeded to seize and sell every natural resource they could find. In 1898, gold was discovered and everybody shit a brick.
This was what legitimate research got me. But what about now? I thought. I decided to take another approach.
Myspace!
My browsing of those within a 250 mile radius of Dawson, Yukon Territory (postal code Y0B 1G0) led me to the conclusion that people in the Yukon like heavy metal and ice hockey. They look like this guy:
What's up guy?
General conclusion: the Yukon Territory is boring and depressing. Moving on...
Northwest Territories and NunavutThe Northwest Territories is a place so overwhelmingly lame that Canada didn't even bother to give it a proper name. Its name is just a general description. Apparently the Northwest Territories is literally the part of Canada that no other province wanted. Hudson Bay Company basically sold it because they were bored with it. Its population is about the same as my hometown of Garden City, Michigan (about 50,000) spread over an area eight times the size of the entire state of Michigan. Wow.
Nunavut, however, is admittedly badass. Originally part of the Northwest Territories, Nunavut got to become its own Inuit/English speaking province in 1999 and has vowed to preserve the Inuit language and create an entirely Inuit/English bilingual population by 2020. Benjamin Lee Whorf would be proud. Also, Nunavut's Baffin Island is the famed Helluland (Land of the Smooth Stones) from the Norse sagas of Leif Erikkson. Caucasian artifacts from the island predate even the Norse exploration- meaning white folks were all up in that shit before the 18th century. Now the Inuit got it back. BOO-YAH! Faced!
Back to the Canadian grind...
...
...
...
I began researching British Colombia and my computer began to fail me. I'm taking this as a sign that I don't need to know any more about Canada. If I want more, I'll just have to go.
Plus I'm bored.
Peace.
-cbo
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Fuck a Duvet
It is approximately 3:00AM and I am pissed. I have realized, after a long day of terribly annoying shit that I may or may not suffer a massive heart attack if I do not remove some of the redundant bullshit that inhabits my life. Furthermore, today has solidified the fact that this world is chaos and many everyday things were sent here to pester me .
#1. Fuck Peanuts. What is happening with the peanut recall? I am now terrified of eating anything that may have at one point in time, been stored in the same building as said contaminated peanuts. I can now add another phobia to the existing laundry list of debilitating fears. Great.
#2. Fuck Lighters. Not one, BUT two of them broken in my hands today. One of the few joys of cigarette smoking is how quickly it can be done. Simply pull a cigarette out, flick your Bic and there you go. Delightful nicotine goodness. I would like to meet the person who invented the clear, multicolored, cheap as dirt lighters. The " 3 for a dollar" gimmick should be changed to "get 3, because god knows you'll need at least 3 to light up." Thanks a lot.
#3. Fuck Taco Bell. For years, yes years, I have patronized this quick and disgusting establishment and I have now been let down for the last time. Kids meals : two tacos, nacho's and cheese and a delightful toy to accompany you whilst you fill your body with toxins. Not anymore. Now, you get two tacos, cinnamon twists and a children's PC game. I really just wanted to nachos :( .
And finally,
#4. Fuck a Duvet. The idea of a duvet is to cover and protect your down comforter. I have several different types of duvets in my lifetime and have hated all of them. The newest one has buttons on the side, 8 in total. Well 4 of them popped off the first night and the two remaining ones and get fucked. I literally woke up in a sweaty panic, tangled up inside of this thing. I would like to stuff who ever created this $80, half open, poorly constructed piece of fabric - INSIDE of my duvet. Good luck getting out, hope you've got some extra time. My duvet is now in 3 pieces. Yes, I tore it to free myself. I panicked.
Well that's enough of that. I am obviously quite disgruntled. The only thing left to happen now is to have Cassie and Ivan come to Michigan to cheer me up. So, lets get on with it.
Hope all is well.
Rachel
#1. Fuck Peanuts. What is happening with the peanut recall? I am now terrified of eating anything that may have at one point in time, been stored in the same building as said contaminated peanuts. I can now add another phobia to the existing laundry list of debilitating fears. Great.
#2. Fuck Lighters. Not one, BUT two of them broken in my hands today. One of the few joys of cigarette smoking is how quickly it can be done. Simply pull a cigarette out, flick your Bic and there you go. Delightful nicotine goodness. I would like to meet the person who invented the clear, multicolored, cheap as dirt lighters. The " 3 for a dollar" gimmick should be changed to "get 3, because god knows you'll need at least 3 to light up." Thanks a lot.
#3. Fuck Taco Bell. For years, yes years, I have patronized this quick and disgusting establishment and I have now been let down for the last time. Kids meals : two tacos, nacho's and cheese and a delightful toy to accompany you whilst you fill your body with toxins. Not anymore. Now, you get two tacos, cinnamon twists and a children's PC game. I really just wanted to nachos :( .
And finally,
#4. Fuck a Duvet. The idea of a duvet is to cover and protect your down comforter. I have several different types of duvets in my lifetime and have hated all of them. The newest one has buttons on the side, 8 in total. Well 4 of them popped off the first night and the two remaining ones and get fucked. I literally woke up in a sweaty panic, tangled up inside of this thing. I would like to stuff who ever created this $80, half open, poorly constructed piece of fabric - INSIDE of my duvet. Good luck getting out, hope you've got some extra time. My duvet is now in 3 pieces. Yes, I tore it to free myself. I panicked.
Well that's enough of that. I am obviously quite disgruntled. The only thing left to happen now is to have Cassie and Ivan come to Michigan to cheer me up. So, lets get on with it.
Hope all is well.
Rachel
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