Friday, August 20, 2010

Identity Crisis

Ever since marrying Scope last month (*squeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!*) I have been grappling with the slow, sweaty, hulking task of changing my name, address, and phone number on—well—everything.

And sometimes it just ain’t easy. Grrrrr.

It seems that, while some agencies (my Target credit card, for example) are content to let me change any and all info I want just by placing a two minute phone call (E-Z), other agencies are not quite so accommodating and refuse to allow such shenanigans to transpire without proper documentation and/or the handing over of my first-born child.

Thus, my identity is a chaotic kaleidoscope right now, with all my info changed in some places (yay!), none of it changed in others (boo!), and, most frustrating of all, just part of my info changed in still more places (gah!), and half the time I have a hard time remembering who the heck I am.

For example, in some places I am Cora Newname living in Chicago, but in others I am Cora Oldname living in Seattle; in some places I am Cora Newname living in Seattle, while in others I am Cora Oldname living in Chicago; and, most fun of all, at one of my banks I am Cora Newname living in Seattle with a Chicago phone number and a debit card which says “Cora Newname” but checks on the same account which say “Cora Oldname”, etc, etc, etc.

You get the point. It’s confusing!!!! I can’t keep it all straight, trying to remember who I am and where I live every time I deal with different agencies.

Wednesday I signed into my eBay account and changed my name, address and phone number in a mere handful of seconds simply be clicking the edit button. Sweet. And once I announced myself as Cora Newname on eBay, I figured I’d better hurry on over to eBay’s evil twin sister, Paypal, and change all my info there before the whattheheck alarm sounded. I was trying to be a good girl, see? Ebay owns Paypal, of course, so they share information, thus, changing my info in Paypal would be just as easy as changing in it eBay had been, right?

Umm…. no.

For some reason, even though I’d just changed my name, address and phone number in eBay without an issue, when I attempted the same stunt over in Paypal, Paypal promptly handed me a dunce cap and made me go sit in the corner. I got an error message telling me I wasn’t allowed to change all that information at once (clearly, I’m the first woman to ever get married and move in with my new husband, and, according to Paypal, I’m a freak) and because I’d just raised a big ol’ red fraud flag, I was told that to proceed with any changes I wanted to make I had to first verify my identity by allowing Paypal to call me at home.

My old home.

2000 miles away.

At the phone number I was trying to change.


I wasn’t allowed to submit any other phone number for use in verifying my identity because, according to Paypal, my identity could only be verified at my ex-phone number. Clearly.


Just wow.

Of course, there’s no way that plan is ever going to work. Ever. (Unless I send my sister over to my ex-house to fraudulently verify my identity for me.) (Tempting, but wrong.) So, I emailed Paypal a plea for help.

*ticked off sigh*

I’ve had spaztastic problems with Paypal before (don’t ask) and, in my experience, emailing Paypal pleas for help rarely leads to anything resembling anything help-like whatsoever. But rather than calling Paypal and being on hold for 17,983,666 hours, I figured I’d try emailing first.

Why not? I might get lucky and get a response from someone without a God complex and with a little—oh, I dunno—good old fashioned common sense, right?

It could happen.

No, really.

So, I got a reply the next day telling me they are allowing me to change my address (yay!) and phone number (cool!), but…. to change my name, they told me I now have to mail them copies of my Illinois driver’s license (which I don’t have yet because I’m still waiting on bills in my new name to arrive to prove my residence to the State of Illinois) and…. (….wait for it….) ….copies of my bank statements and credit card statements.

*big, burly, carnivorous crickets*

Excuse me?

Copies of my bank statements and credit card statements? Why does Paypal think they need those? I’m NOT sending Paypal THOSE!!!! That’s waaaayyyyyyyy too personal! I’d feel less violated spreading ‘em in the stirrups and letting Paypal give me a pelvic exam, okay?!

Surely there are less insane ways of proving I’m Cora Newname to Paypal than sending Paypal my BANK AND CREDIT CARD STATEMENTS! Are you kidding me?! That’s sooooooooooo not going to happen. C’mon!

Eloquent, sophisticated, and ubermature memo to Paypal: Kiss it, jerks. I’ll keep my old name. Thanks.

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Monday, August 16, 2010

Who Could Ask For Anything More?

Okay, so last Thursday morning, my daughter and I tore like tornados through our house, desperately trying to get the last of our moving to-do list accomplished before our flight to Chicago to (taa-daa!!) move in with Scope.

Or I did.

My daughter might have snuck away from me and my newfound best friend, Hysterical Panic (don’t call her “Hissy” if you like your nose the shape it is), to go back to sleep on my stripped bare bed. Maybe.

And I might have a picture (or three) to prove it…. but I can’t show you because I’m on Scope’s computer right now and he’s at work and….. ummm….. I have this here fancy memory card and all, but I can’t quite figure out where I’m supposed to stick it (that’s what he said) to pluck the pictures out of it like I could do on my own ‘puter back in Seattle….




Well, anyway….

Even though I worked on it all for weeks, just packing and sorting and dumping things off at the thrift store and plugging holes in the walls with toothpaste, I somehow didn’t manage to get all the moving chores done in time before we had to leave for the airport.


And now those lucky relatives I left behind in Washington are stuck figuring out what to do with all my boxed up stuff I left piled up in my rental house.


My dad had wanted to drive it all over for me…. but then *POOF* that plan fell apart at the last minute (like, seriously, the night before I boarded my plane!), and now…. well…. word is he’ll probably be bringing some of my stuff over.



But he has no idea when. And he’s not sure how much he’ll be bringing. And it looks like the vast majority of my stuff is going to be locked away in a storage unit 2000 miles away from me by my mom for me to figure out how to get to Chicago myself later.

Basically, it’s complicated.

But besides the moving-with-nothing-but-a-few-bags-of-clothes-and-my-camera-and-my-Strawberry-Shortcake-Dolls-(shut)-(up) drama, my new married life is pretty damn splendiferous! :-)

Being married to Scope rocks, people! ROCKS!! Dare I say it? It rocks more than a whoppin’ big ol’ Rocky Road ice cream sundae!


We’re happy. Like walking-around-with-big-stupid-grins-plastered-across-our-faces-which-we-can’t-seem-to-ever-wipe-off happy. Even my 13 year old daughter (who should rightfully be royally ticked at me for dragging her 2000 miles away from everything she knew) is happy and not the teeniest bit resentful….

(Except for yesterday when I forced her to try on pants for back-to-school shopping even though she loathes clothes shopping.)

(‘Cuz she’s.... umm... a different breed of teenage girl.)


Anyway, gotta run. I’m suddenly craving Rocky Road ice cream for some inexplicable reason and, lo and behold, there's a grocery store right across the darn street! Mmmmmmmm….


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