I had this huge rant ready a couple of hours ago but there was something wrong with the server (again! for the millionth time in the past month) and now I'm too tired to write it. Aww, you probably weren't interested in readin it anyway.

I'll just write it tomorrow.

If I remember.

Well, Valentine's Day is right around the corner, and I figure it seems like as good a time as any to start thinkin about settling down and goin ahead and poppin the question to my girlfriend of more than a year and a half ...

... But since I'm not gonna do that I'm gonna have to come up with some good ideas for our Valentine's Day evening. I'm kinda drawin a blank right now (and I think she's expecting something BIG!) so I'm gonna need your help. How can I make this Valentine's Day a good start to, hopefully, many many more?

Oh and considering the fact that she's one of my most dedicated readers I need one of two things to happen, a) You need to realize that I'm extremely romantic all by myself and that I'm only kidding and don't need your help or b) (and most likely) You just need to leave me private messages.

What are you doing for the Super Bowl?

You can call it my new "idea". Or perhaps my latest "next big thing" if there ever were such a thing. Whatever you want to call it, I'm officially releasing the code-named "Alpha" project as the now-called RallePoint.com.

It's basically a place where you can build your own homepage by adding your own links, your own weather box and subscribe to (and eventually add your own) RSS feeds. There's a long feature "wish list" (part of it available on the sign up page) and as usual, I haven't gotten to many of those features, but the plan is to get there. Anyway, give it a try or don't, I mostly did it for me.

For those who may not be near a window, tv, or radio, it's snowing. For those far away, it's snowing. For everyone else, it's snowing.

Oh and for those who may be able to walk (we don't encourage driving) to our apartment, we're planning a snow-football game. But there's only three of us, so it will more closely resemble smear the queer. If that statement was offensive to anyone I apologize.

As much complaining as I do about grad school and how it's not near as fun as undergrad, I realize I can't complain too much when there's still the potential to get emails from the professor like this ...

Because of [edited] , I will be unable to attend class today. Therefore IE/OR/CSC 762 is cancelled today.

Ahh the joys of being in school.

Yesterday, Thunder had to return something in Chapel Hill, so I accompanied him so that we might enjoy a snack in "The Thrill". While I have been to Chapel Hill many times, I have never had the pleasure of entering any of the evil "propoganda" stores masquerading as merchants of team pride. Well, Thunder was returning a "propoganda" sweatshirt so rather than wait in the cold, I decided to follow him in.

It's almost inconceivable how immediate the feeling of displacement is when you walk into one of those places. You are surrounded by no more than two distinct colors, the greys mixing with the whites and the blue ... oh my goodness the blue. Forget all of the arguments about the sky being Carolina Blue, because that horrific color cannot hold a candle to the sky on a cloudless summer day.

On top of the suffocating atmosphere I couldn't shake the feeling that I would be discovered. I was wearing my usual t-shirt and jeans, but the way I felt, you'd think I walked in there donning the Mr. Wuf outfit, with a huge Wolfpack flag in my hand. There's just something about being in the enemy's territory that makes you feel like you don't blend in, even though the people in there probably couldn't tell me from Dante Calabria.

I've never been so relieved to get out of a store as I was leaving that place (there were actually two stores, but let's let the story move along now), and while the experience was, at least, interesting I don't mean to go back in one for a long long while. You know, for my own safety.

I have to do this.

I got my first bill from my new cell phone service provider. And on this bill I found a surprising total of $90.85. When I investigated further I found the following line:

Verizon Wireless' Other Charges and Credits - $30.82

Do what?

I called customer service. Maybe I should just have them on my speed dial. Oooh, no wait, that sounds like a bad thing and that's not where I'm going with this.

Anyway, I call customer service, and apparently the $30.82 was a charge and a partial charge for 2 number changes. The customer service rep explains that I went from one # to another # to my ported #. "Umm", I say, "Well, I bought the phone in Maryland where they told me they couldn't port my number so they gave me a number and I ported my old one when I got back to Raleigh. So I don't mind paying for one of those, but I don't know where that first number came from."

And now, for the ringing, and I mean loud freakin ringning, endorsement for VERIZON WIRELESS. "Ok, well I'm just gonna go ahead and credit your account for $35 to make sure and cover any taxes and whatnot, would you like that on this month's bill or next month's bill." Yeah, this month's bill, Dude, big time!

"Is there anything else I can do for you today?" No, but I'm gonna go write in my blog how awesome you guys are. And then I'm gonna go put the final nail in the coffin of my days with Sprint.

I guess since this whole ordeal has consumed my life for the last few days (well this and a work project), I forgot that there are normal people out there who purchase new cell phones and change carriers without thinking twice about trying to keep their old number. I was even normal once, having been through three cell phone numbers myself, but I guess people change (plus I had only had those numbers for about a year each and the whole keeping your number thing wasn't really an option back then).

Anyway, I guess it would be worth it for me to explain briefly what this is all about. Last November, legislation (set forth by the FCC and Congress I presume) went into effect that required cell phone carriers to allow customers to keep their cell phone numbers even if they choose to switch carriers, assuming they are staying in the same geographical area. This whole process is called Local Number Portability - or LNP for short.

Since last summer, I have considered myself "in the market" for a new cell phone and carrier because of my dissatisfaction with my now old service provider and because since its release I haven't been able to get over the Motorola V60 line. Unfortunately, I was still under contract until December 2003 with my old service provider. The contract turned out to be a good thing though, once I found out that LNP would be going into effect in November. Besides, I didn't have the money then anyway, and waiting until after the mad rush of people wanting to switch carriers and port their number was probably a good thing.

So, long story short, when I was in Maryland a week ago, I stopped by the Verizon store and spotted the V60s, sitting pretty and on sale. After inquiring about the complexity of buying the phone in Maryland, away from my home service area in North Carolina, I pulled the trigger, and thus found myself a carrier of the LNP disease.

Could it be that we have come to the end? With no life-threatening wounds but so much aggravation. It's like being 23 and being unable to buy a drink because your license has the words "Under 21" printed on it. You know it's no single person's fault, but you just don't understand it. There were no weak links, only a disintegrated chain.

Around 17:23 this evening, I called the port center back to check on their progress. When I started talking to "Tina", I didn't immediately feel at ease as she had to "see what my file said". Tina turned out to be great though. After about 30 minutes of confirming, being on hold, and turning my phone off and on and reprogramming it I finally saw the phone turning on and saying "My Telephone Number: ###-###-####" and it was the correct number. Just 174 hours after my first trip into the store, the number port was complete. I've read about cases that took a little bit longer, but I really never expected it take this long, and to be this heartwrenching.

And to end with the hokiest of all endings, the LNP disease has now been cured.

I can't tell you how much it pains me to be writing a Part IV to this story. Heck, I've even already committed to calling it a three parter in Part III, but the writer in me saw Part III come to its logical end and I've even already stretched the bounds of a three part story by starting a Conclusion. I knew I had counted my eggs too soon.

8 o'clock rolled around Friday evening and still no change. Following Harold's instructions, I called back just to check on things, fully expecting to enter the stage where all we have to do is change some billing information, albeit expecting too much.

The newest player in thistale informs me they are still waiting on my old service provider. And my request for her to call them directly rather than wait was met with some hesitation. Her reason being that they have a policy not to wait on the line longer than 10 minutes and my old service provider has a tendency to take longer than that and I'd be better off waiting. She asked if I'd like her to try anyway, and I did "like her to try" so she did. And to her credit we ended up waiting a lot longer than 10 minutes, though the time was divided between two different customer service "tiers".

The lady assisting us couldn't even find the port request. After some prodding from the customer service rep helping me, this lady at my old service provider (OSP) said all she could do was transfer us to a "Tier 2" service rep. By the way, the highlight of this conversation was during the discussion of my social security number (which was once again at the heart of the problem). The lady with the OSP didn't know I was on the line, so when I was called upon to confirm some information, there was some surprise in her voice and a pleasant, "Oh, hello Mr. Riego". LNP customer by day, phone stalker by night.

We did eventually make it to the "Tier 2" service rep and there appeared to be a resolution in our immediate future. The "Tier 2" rep even took the liberty of confirming the number port, meaning no more requests would have to be sent back and forth, so at last everyth - but wait a minute - "Oops". Oh no, what now.

"I'm passing this along to my supervisor and she's dealing with it right now. Something is wrong with the number port confirmation." So the result of this phone call is to wait more. But she told me - and I realize I've heard this before - that it should get done overnight, basically that I should wake up to everything being resolved.

But, of course, nothing can be that easy. Saturday morning rolls around. Almost 7 days since I stepped into the store that fateful day to begin this process. I wake up to the sound of my old cell phone ringing. Once the porting process is complete, it's not supposed to do that. I didn't wake up to everything being resolved, I woke up back at square one.

Another call to the port center. Apparently in approving the number port, my OSP skipped a step and therefore the transfer cannot yet take place. Again, it's being passed on to the supervisor, who must then contact a high level customer service rep at my OSP. Yes, I realize at this point how foolish I am; How foolish I look; How I'm letting them play with me. But I don't want to blow up at anyone. I want to be a good customer. I want to be understanding. I want to know that in the world of aggravations, this is but a small one, very inconsequential. Right now you're begging for this story to end. Me too.

A moment of pause. I just thought you should know that like Lord of the Rings was filmed all at once and was in fact one book broken up into three, this story is being written as one in three parts due to its unattractive length. And as I write, I am sitting patiently, awaiting a phone call I was assured would come, to update me on the status of my request. I do not yet know how the story will end, or even that it will end. And so the story goes ...

Friday morning. It's 8:30 a.m. and it's snowing. Still no text message. Still no phone call for more information. But it hasn't quite been 24 hours since I last called, perhaps I will give them at least that. I can't believe it has come this far. All of the information I've passed. All of the times I've pronounced my name, recited my social, given out my phone numbers and only more waiting to show for it. At this point, I'm remembering bits and pieces of the conversation with the port center rep, when I gave him my information. Did he hear me correctly. He must have copied some of my information down wrong. That's the only explanation.

Friday 3:30 p.m. I can't wait anymore. I call the port center and get Harold. By far the friendliest, most helpful, and most willing representative of all. My favorite part about Harold, "Well let's see what I can do. I'll stay with you until we get this resolved." He even took down my contact number for himself ... not to put in the computer for some other representative to read. He did have to end our call, but I asked if he would call me back and he said he would. That's when I began writing this. That's when I felt, without a doubt, this is getting resolved right now.

When I started writing Part III, Harold had yet to call me back. But since then he has. And this, we hope, is the beginning of the end. During my first real and productive conversation with the port center on Wednesday, information had been entered wrong including my name and my social. Harold had gotten on the phone with a Sprint rep and resolved these issues. He called me back. Once again we wait for Sprint, but more confident than ever that the information is correct. And Harold told me to call back in a couple of hours if I hadn't heard anything. I got the impression he wouldn't be there anymore but he told me everything was in the notes in my file and when I call back there are some administrative/billing things that need to be completed.

Then Harold told me the most comforting thing I've heard all week. "This should all be over by bedtime."

Harold doesn't know me, and I don't know Harold. But I like Harold, and judging by the way he treated and talked to me, Harold likes me back. And I don't know how carefully the words were chosen, but there was something peaceful about associating the end of all of this with bedtime.

Then again, my bedtime lately has been 1 or 2 a.m. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

We pick up the story Wednesday evening. Though it has only been a few hours since my return visit to the store, I'm a little dismayed by the fact that there appears to be no record of my request on the internet/telephonic status check. (Sidebar Alert: To all Verizon Employees, no matter what they may tell you in your meetings or workshops or whatever, the LNP help line is only an automated system that directs the user to regular customer service if they have questions or problems. Therefore, when I ask for a phone number to call directly concerning LNP, don't give me that number.)

At this point I've lost all confidence in the system. I decide I just have to get in touch with the port center and not get off the line until something gets done. I call customer service and ask them to direct me to the port center. They direct me to the west coast port center who then directs me to the port center assigned to the south. The most surpirsing tidbit of information for the evening: STILL NO RECORD OF MY REQUEST.

Well this guy proves to be the most helpful of all so far. It turns out that's not saying a lot, but let's continue. He just starts a port request himself. All of this crap about them needing the form for written authorization is exactly that ... crap. After taking my information he sends the request (to my old service provider) and says that it usually takes 30 min to go through and get a response and after that it's just 3-6 hours for the actual port to take place. I was so excited I almost pee-peed my britches.

Good thing I didn't or else 6 hours later I'd have britches full of pee-pee and still two cell phone numbers.

Thursday morning. Before I head off to work for the day I give the port center a call (having finally been given a direct number into the Memphis port center). At this point, they're still waiting on my old service provider. They've gotten responses that have signaled missing information. In this case, they're supposed to call me but they haven't. I don't know if the lady knew how many times I had called, but it seemed like she had. She basically told me I didn't have to call anymore and that if there were more problems I'd be contacted, otherwise it should go through and I will get a text message confirming the transfer. Okily dokily.

Thursday evening. Are you kidding me? Nothing. Not even a phone call telling me they needed more information. My phone needed charging so I decided to go ahead and leave it alone for the evening. Besides, they'd call me if there was anything they needed me for, right?

(I bet you never thought you wouldn't have reached the end by now right? Well if you have to see me everyday then you would have known. The funny thing is, I've left a lot out. To be continued ...)

There's plenty of LNP (local number portability) banter and complaining out there but I have to get this out. And I have to try to do it with humor to keep myself from imploding. I might implode anyway, but let's hope not.

The first three days I was patiently anxious. I went in to the store on a Saturday, and besides a little hesitation by the guy who helped me, I was confident in their abilities to do this for me. You see, I screwed up their system just a little bit by buying the phone in Marlyand, although with a Durham number, and then coming home to get it switched. It appeared to be no problem.

Monday rolls around and nothing, not even a phone call. And their little internet thing to check the status of the port was about as useful as Bobblehead Dan.

Wait, scratch that, I've gotten more use out of Bobblehead Dan.

So I called customer service. They direct me to the port center, who tells me they don't have the form that the store was supposed to fax to them. I asked them if I could just deal directly with them. No dice. She asked me to call the store and have them resend the fax. Yeah, because that worked so well the first time.

Tuesday. Still nothing. I understand that this thing may take up to 4 days to happen, but in my case, the port center still didn't know I wanted to port my number. That's a big problem. I called customer service again. The kind gentleman this time told me to fax the form myself (the guy gave me a copy on Saturday) and that he was going to fill out an "internal memo" to get things going a little faster.

Wednesday. I go back to the scene of the original crime. I can't even sum up the beginning of this conversation in a paragraph. Here are some highlight quotes, perhaps in order, but probably not:

Customer Service Rep (CSR): I don't know
CSR: (Silence) Hmm

CSR: TNC's can take up to five days
Me: I'm not concerned about how long it takes. I'm concerned that they haven't even started

CSR: I faxed it. That [my form plus a new sheet of paper] is a transmission confirmation report.
Me: (Sarcastically idiotic) So faxing is instant right. Like how long between us sending the fax and them receiving it and picking it up and doing something besides the hokey pokey with it? (This elicited her most puzzled look, surprisingly. She must have wondered if I could actually be that stupid. And no, I didn't actually say the "hokey pokey" part.)

CSR: (Looking at computer screen, presumably my account information and not solitaire) There's a message here about porting your number dated Jan 05.
Me: An internal memo?
CSR: Yeah. But there's no response.
Me: [Thinking] A lot of good that did.

Me: Where is the port center? Can I just drive there?
CSR: You could. It's in Memphis.
Me: Memphis. [Under my breath] Where's Humber when I need her.

CSR: (Finishing a discussion with some mysterious person on the other end, probably her boo) Everything should be working by Friday.

I walked out of there feeling confident about what had transpired. But as is customary with the consumer-corporate experience, my confidence would prove to be accurately misplaced.

(To be continued)

I wasn't around at the turn of the new year so this is a little late, but here are some of my favorite highlights of 2003, in no particular order, chronological nor random ...

We said goodbye to Ross, Rachel, Monica, Joey, Phoebe and Chandler as the Friends gang turned down all offers below $1 million per episode and decided to call it quits. (Wait a minute! NBC somehow found it profitable to pay each of them $1 million an episode to keep it on the air for one more year! I need that guy as my financial advisor)

I found out I wasn't the only one who shook my polaroid pictures to make them develop faster. (Well, I guess I knew other people did that, since I learned from someone else, but whenever something makes it into the hip-hop world, it's just instantly cooler. If only someone could write a rap song about web-page authoring)

MTV started playing videos again. (... But that didn't last very long. Back to TV shows.)

Michael Jackson. (Oh goodness)

Kobe Bryant. (Stupid)

Ben and Jen got married (Well, actually they didn't. But they might as well. Then at least we'd stop hearing about it.)

The Redskins made it to the playoffs. (Well, the kind of playoffs where you're contending for who the worst team in the NFL was. At least I have the benefit of remarking how awesome it is that Joe Gibbs is back next year. Wooohooo. "Hail to the Redskins ...")

3234 said goodbye to two more housemates (putting the overall tally at 3) as B.J. bid farewell to bachelorhood by getting hitched. At the opposite end of the spectrum, Dan embraced bachelorhood with open arms by moving off to England to charm the pants off of the English girls with his sexy American accent. (Why aren't American accents ever sexy?)

3234 welcomed two new housemates (and their "gifts") with open arms and good riddance to the past as Eric and T-Rav brought with them a surround sound system, a washer and dryer, and a toaster oven from the 70's. (They're pretty cool dudes too. Oh and that thing about good riddance to the past was just a joke.)

In my personal life I was dealt two sick blows by the same person. My lovely girlfriend of going on 18 months moved away from me twice - increasing her distance with every move. Subtlety was never her strong suit, but I still love her. (I hope you don't think you can get rid of me that easily)

And finally, the single most important event of the year ...

We caught Sadam and destroyed his weapons of mass destruction! (Well, that is, if you consider a pistol in a spider hole a weapon of mass destruction!)

In all seriousness, it was a great year. Many things to be thankful for, minimal regret and great friends. Thanks to all who have made my year so wonderful!

It's snowing. And because I grew up in North Carolina, I associate snow with good, mostly because I grew up in an era when even the threat of snow meant a day off from school. But two things bother me in spite of the cheery powdery white stuff: a) I have two projects to work on so I can't really enjoy the "snow day" and b) Wake County made kids go to school today. No way my kids would have been at school today.

I've spent the last 7 days vacationing in Maryland (with a brief trip back to Raleigh Monday evening until early Tuesday morning). Instead of boring you with a play-by-play of my week, I figured it might be kinda nice to share some things that I learned while I was up there ...

- My cousin Megan has a friend named Fred that you can't see, smell, hear, touch or taste ... but ask her if he's imaginary and she'll scream and holler and tell you he's NOT IMAGINARY!. Go figure.

- My aunt is currently reading a book (fiction) about a guy who has always felt like he should be a woman. Married and with two young children, he decides to go through a gender transformation. The twist ... he's always felt like he wanted to be a woman, but he's still attracted to women, not men. By the time we were on our way home from Maryland, the wife of this individual was at the point where it looked like she was going to leave him/her. I'm not sure how the book ends. I can find out from my aunt though, if you want.

- The N/S/E/W direction associated with a "beltline" of any interstate is practically useless since the general purpose of any given beltline is to take you around in a circle. For example, taking I-270 North is the same as taking I-270 South, it might just take longer. (Disclaimer: This is not necessarily true in all cases, hence the term "general purpose" used earlier, and this is something I have known for a while but is rammed into your brain when going to major cities where every interstate has ten "beltlines" associated with it)

- When jogging, always remember to push ahead, because you definitely have NOT been jogging for as long as you think you have, no matter how much ground you may think you have covered.

- It is normal for all of the lights to go off and the cars to rumble and shake when riding the Metro and nearing the end of the line.

- Allergy drugs work wonders for "mild allergies" which are actually more severe than you'd like to let on.

- The back windows on Pontiac Vibes are too small

- Exit 63B on I-95 in Virginia has fairly reasonably priced gas as well as the slowest McDonalds in the world. Obviously a good reason to stop there on the way up and on the way back.

- Sometimes good customer service boils down to having employees that are genuinely warm and willing to work with you ... AND customers who are reasonable and understanding.

- People change but stay the same.

- When travelling in a two or more vehicle caravan which includes at least 1 recreational vehicle (aka Moving House, aka RV, however NOT aka a "camper") and a whiny dog and seasonal traffic, add 2 or more hours for every 5 hours of "normal" travel time.

And now the most important lesson of all ...

- Purchasing a "beverage" at a Macaroni Grill in Maryland is not as easy as being born more than 21 years ago and having a license that vouches for that fact. No, you must also make sure that the strip beside your picture that says "Under 21" is no longer present as that takes precedent OVER YOUR BIRTHDATE! After some discussion with the waiter we learned this is the "perfect storm" of beverage laws and DMV practices. In Maryland, when you turn 16 you get a license that's good for 5 years, meaning you renew on your 21st birthday. Unfortunately, here in podunk North Carolina the DMV issues (or used to issue) your license for 4 years when you're 16, meaning you renew at age 20 and you're stuck with the "Under 21" tag until you're 25, though you spend 80% of those 5 years being "Over 21".