Glow in the dark kitties

Glow in the dark cats.

Now that's the type of cat I want!

Women working on Games

So I'm following the Multiplayer blog over at MTV, and they're doing this thing about interviewing women in games. Today is Elspeth Tory [Assassin's Creed].

I really resonated one of her replies to the question:

Multiplayer: You talk about how women should be become more visible. You’ve obviously become more visible by working on “Assassin’s Creed.” Do you feel like you should be a spokesperson for women developers and gamers?

Tory: Well, I don’t know, a spokesperson so much. You just get that feeling that sometimes when people have stereotypes that if you come along and reinforce it, it just makes things infinitely worse. So let’s say that a lot of guys think, “I don’t know if a woman can do that well.” Let’s say that’s what they thought initially. And then you come along and, [they realize] “Hey, you do it well.” So I think that I really felt that pressure to just make sure that every time, if anyone had a stereotype, that I broke it. And that’s something that I think it was important for me to do, just as a personal quest, to make sure that any other woman who came along, that that stereotype wouldn’t be there. At least the last woman they worked with was good at what they do, and they know that it wasn’t going to be an issue. I didn’t want anyone else to face potentially the same stereotype.

And it's very true -- don't read the forums.

Mercedes service people are d!cks

So I get to the dealership this morning and Christy heels her way outside. Wearing this lovely lamb-skin black trench-coat, shimmery, and with that dishwater brown hair-color I'm convinced she needs to change back to blonde.

"Hi! Do you have an appointment today..?" And then a quirked eyebrow, slight smile forming on her lips.

"Um.. no, actually." And then I uncontrollably giggle, "It's much more absurd then that."

I motion her over, "Come take a look. It's really quite bizarre." and then I spin around to the passenger seat so she can get a real good look. I point to my license plate.

She blinks, "What the-."

And then I go and describe that I think when the service guy installed it, he must not've seen it.. Then I point out the chipped part of my car near the ignition and how it was cheaply painted over. Copious notes are taken on her clipboard but I can see the once welcoming expression turn to a deep seated fear and apprehension.

"I'll need to go bring the Service Director over."

I nod, with a bigger grin, "Oh, please do."

She click-clacks off and I follow her inside, scoring myself a complimentary cup of decaf Flavia House Blend. Something is on the news but I forgot what.

Mark eventually stalks outside and I motion him to the license plate. He's all, "Oh, we'll easily fix that for you. That's not a problem." Then I point to the damage near the ignition. He clumps down into the driver's seat and eyes it irritably.

"I don't know about that. We'd never do something like that."

"So you think I did it? Where would I even get that paint? It's not a nail polish color."

"Well, maybe not you, but someone else."

My stare leveled on him, a slight quirk to my lips, "I don't know. I think you guys did it. I mean, you can even see black spots peeking out from underneath. It's even shimmery. Like, the rest of the plastic is matte, but this one has a sheen. And, heck, there's even hair stuck to it. Like, the hair dropped on it while it was drying. Maybe I need to call Mercedes corporate with this matter."

Without looking at me, "They won't do anything about it." then to me, "You don't think maybe you chipped it with your key when you were trying to put it in the ignition?"

"No. I do think you guys chipped it and tried to paint it over with this white paint."

"I think you chipped it with your key. It's not paint. It's just that the plastic is half-chipped off so it's whiter. The top coat is gone."

Now I just paused. Breathed a little. Sat back in the passenger chair.

"Would you like me to bring in a third-party Mediator to help us come to agreement on this matter?"

Mark sighed, furrowed his brow, "No."

"Hm, I see. Well, I want the part replaced and I want my license plate back."

"I can't sit here and run your car over with a fine tooth comb every time you come in looking for chips and dings that weren't there before you came in. We were very careful this time."

"I understand that. However, are you saying its up to me to inspect the car with great detail every time I come here for a service? Am I supposed to take before and after photos?"

He growls a bit and gets out of the car, muttering, "We'll fix it."

And inside he goes, up to Christy, ordering her to order the parts. I wander up behind him and he looks at me, "We're taking care of it." and so I turn to Christy, "Are you guys ordering the part?" Before she can answer, looking to her clipboard, Mark interjects, "Yes. We'll call you when the part is in to schedule an appointment to have it replaced." and he walks away. Probably back to that Service Director cave he crawled out of.

I nod to Christy then, "Alright, well, thank you!" and smile my way out the door.


I need to call Mercedes Corporate.

But wait, there's more!

It seems that the memories of my life will involve an entire section about my car. My beloved SLK 320. So today, I was feeling a bit lonely and ho-hum, what with the stress of work weighing down on my shoulders. What could be better then an afternoon pick-me-up with some quality time spent driving in my awesome car?

So I get in, and ponder to myself, idly, "I wonder where my front license plate is. ..."

But it was just a stray thought, something to occupy the time in-between what I'll be getting for lunch, or where I'm going for coffee, or if I should change my radio station even though it's really good but couldn't it get that much better, and work blah-blah. Besides, it's probably in the trunk.

Lunch... coffee... computers...

Back in the ride and this time, parked at work, doing that last moment of meditation before I face "the office" once more. It's then that I find my front license plate.

Half of it peeking out from underneath the center console because the top half is...

wait for it

...

.

.

UNDERNEATH the center console.





Oh yes, that fabulous install job? Well, yeah.. the mechanic obviously didn't see the license plate there when he installed the console because he covered it up almost completely.

So there I am, trying to remember to breathe, as I'm desperately trying to pull the plate out from underneath the plastic. It's not budging. It can't go any further down, though, because it's already on the floor of the car. And, well, I obviously can't pull it up and out.

Heavy...

Sigh.

And just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, reality proved you wrong.

They got me -- for a day or so

That is, those Mercedes people.

I'm taking an afternoon break from work because, well, it's work and I was stressed and I wanted a gingerbread latte and some mixed nuts. So there I am, in the parking lot of Starbuck's basquing as some snake on a warm rock...

... fresh new interior... (a bit on the dirty side from the mechanic's fingerprints but I can ignore that)
... fresh music from sat ... (The Beat, specifically)

and some fabulous Lancome products I purchased the day before. So, yeah, a little make-up doll work for fun. Then something catches my eye.. So closer I peer, next to the key ignition.

GASP.

A scratch, but not just any scratch, a repaired scratch.

Those mother f*kers didn't think I'd notice that they scratched another part of my car by "touching it up" with some off-white paint. Little do they realize, I'm obviously color neurotic. So, instead of my "Safari tan" interior, I see eggshell.

THEY TRIED TO COVER IT UP









Now I'm just offended. I mean, before, I was looking for the black scratch. That is, the underlying black plastic being exposed. Instead, I'm presented with this off-off-white color "touch up". Oops. Moreover, I don't even think they put the piece together right because on closer inspection, it doesn't line up smoothly with the rest of the pieces.

As such, I'll be visiting the Dealership tomorrow.


Again.


And to think, they pulled the wool over my eyes for, say, a day or so. B!tches.

For those of you struggling with what to get me for the Holidays

My car is actually fixed!

But the real test will be if, tomorrow, it starts up for work.

To recap:

I showed up at the dealership this Friday at around mid afternoon sometime. I figured, having a nice lunch with my dad over at Romano's Macaroni Grill would start my day off right. This way, at least the Mercedes people wouldn't ruin a perfectly good lunch.

So, we sashay into the dealership and Andrew is all, "It's done!!" huge smile and reclining back in his chair, further growing his sh!t-eating grin, "It's finished!"

"O RLY? Was there an electrical problem you saw? Was it the radio?"

"Your alternator and the electrical system is a-ok, we checked that out top to bottom. That radio is what's been giving us all the delays though. Since we had to replace your center console piece, we had to take all of that apart. Since the radio's after market... we had to call in a specialist to make sure we took it out and put it back together again properly."

Me, now with a smile, "O RLY??? So you even fixed the radio too?? I am impressed!"

He blinked, "The radio was broken?"

"Well sort of. I was going to take it in to that crappy Roseville place where I got it installed but apparently you people didn't ruin it further to cause me even more heart burn over that."

He blinked again, "Well, I am happy to hear that.. . . ."

And so, our hero and her dad went and paid some more money, because apparently diagnosing an electrical problem that doesn't exist costs money, got the car.. did a walk around... adjusted the seats.. the mirrors... and drove off into the sunset with the soft, serenading sounds of a lecture still echoing in her ears.. "remember -- slow down!!!"




Epilogue:

Yes, they did fix the satellite radio, too. Bliss!

Only 75%??

I am 75% Addicted to Coffee

Not as good versus Zombies

74%

Only 85% Geek

85% Geek

My car is ready!!

Mark just called.

The car is ready!!

Apparently, he was "able" to "push aside" a couple of jobs to get it done today.

I'll be picking it up first thing in the morning.

Wee!

Mercedes drama continues

So I show up to the dealership today expecting that my car'll be fixed.

It's not.

Instead, the service people were like:

Nervous look, "Did you get your voicemail message?"

"No. What voicemail message?"

"Anthony said he left it.. um.. er.. well... you're going to need some gaskets replaced."

"Gaskets? What does this have to do with my battery and electrical system?"

"Nothing. See, we just noticed it when we were diagnosing that problem."

"Oh. hm..."

My dad is there with me because I've decided to pull the man-card now when dealing with service people. I asked, "What's a gasket? Apparently, I need to get them replaced."

He blinks, stands up, "You don't need to get your engine head gaskets replaced, do you? That's like $10,000. It's not even worth it!"

I blinked, "Um.. I don't think so?"

So we go and ask Mark this and he's all, "Oh, no, it's like [technical-mumjo-jumbo I tuned out, translation: some other valve thing] it'll be $500."

My dad then freaks out and turns to me, agitated, "You have been driving too fast. Pushing that car too hard. I keep telling you to slow down. But you don't listen. Now look."

"$500??? For the part?"

"No. The part is $60."

Mental note: Anything you need to get done by Mercedes will always cost $500. It'll either be a $450 part and $50 labor. Or a $50 part and $450 in labor. That's just how it goes. Accept it and move on.

"See???" My dad begins, "It's not the part that's a big deal. It's the labor. Slow down when you drive. This car is just 6-cylinders. If it was 8-cylinders, then fine push it. Remember my old mercedes? That was 8. Yours is not 8. Going faster then 70 is going to push this 6-cylinders too hard and you're going to break things. Look at my truck -- if you push that one faster then 70 the same thing is going to happen. I can't sit in the dealership all day waiting for them to fix it. You must have been speeding up that hill on your way to work. Or passing people. Or driving I don't know how fast. The fact is, you shouldn't drive it faster then 70, 75 if you don't want this problem again. It's only 6 cylinders! Are you racing those trucks on the road? Those are 8 cylinders, they can push it. You're only 6!!" This is the price of the man-card. The lecture.

Deep breath. Mental note: Next car is 8 cylinders.

"Well, how long is it going to take for my car to get fixed? Is the mirror replaced? The interior? Have you even diagnosed the electrical problem yet?"

"Uh.. Well the mirror will be replaced by the time you pick it up [translation: we didn't start on it yet], the center console is totally ripped out but we're trying to be careful because you have an after market radio and we don't want to damage that - also, we had to order another part so we had to wait for that to arrive [translation: we damaged something else], the mechanic is starting the electrical diagnosis today [translation: we got distracted by that gasket problem], and... did you want us to replace those gaskets?"

"Yes. I don't like to have damaged parts in my car - if you haven't been able to figure that one out."

"Ok, great." Mark, the service director, relieved sigh and a wary smile, "We'll give you a call with some status updates.. what's the best number to reach you at..?"

And that's where we left our hero.

My car stopped working

So, I wake up early today to go to Mercedes because some parts are in so I can fix my driver's side mirror and the center console. But I sleep in because my bed's warm.

When I finally get to my car, it won't start.

Key in the ignition, park, position 2... nothing. Nadda. Nishta.

Key in the ignition, park, position 1. ... no lights, nothing.. nadda.. nishta..

WTF.

I do this a few more times. Sigh.

So I call my Stockton area service people and they're like, "Oh, we could send a tow out but it'll cost you."

So I call Mercedes roadside assistance, corporate, "We'll have a mechanic out there in 20 minutes."

I head to work, the guy shows up and replaces the battery.. it was free, covered under warrantee (as I got one last year).

Now I have this issue: Since my car was sitting around for 1.5 weeks doing thing, is my busted up radio wearing the battery down? Did the alternator screw up? Was the battery already on the fritz?

Let's sum up my car problems:
1) Driver's side mirror has this crazy "fog" on it. Water got behind the mirror so the auto-tinting film is all effed up
2) Center console is damage because of shoddy repair men
3) Satellite radio is busted/won't work
4) Car won't start (is it the alternator??)


And I even got my car serviced like 2 weeks ago. Don't they check for things like this?


Heavy sigh.

~ddd

Activision Blizzard

Oh man, I'm going to have to let my WoW subscription expire. I can't imagine what's going to happen to WoW now. I mean, sure, there's all this talk about how Blizzard ops won't change but... when a perp high enough on the totem pole gets an idea -- watch out!

Good thing I'm getting addicted to killing demons in Hellgate:London.