I phoned my internet service provider yesterday to inform them of a change of address. A simple task, one may think.

Annoyance #1 Our home telephone, being a funky 70’s example, is not a touch-tone. Had to use a mobile phone.

Annoyance #2 The customer service number I rang does not accept calls from mobile-phones. Was given another number to ring, but I didn’t have a pen at hand, so I fetched one and rang the number again.

Annoyance #3 Had to press a series of numbers (1,2,1, then my six-digit customer code) to get through to the correct department and thus make my life so much easier. Having done this, I was then presented with a 30-second voice message telling me all about the extra services I could order via their site. Now 30 seconds is not normally a long time, but I do not care for their adverts. And, despite all these wonderful things I’m being offered, I cannot notify them of a change of address using this method they are so willing to inform me about.

Annoyance #4 Having semi-listened to the recorded advert, was put through to, what I assume, the correct department, where I once again had to answer a number of questions to further help me. Waited a short time, to then be told there were a number of people before me and I should expect a ten-minute wait. Which I refused to do.
Is this really what customer service is nowadays? I seldom use my phone, and avoid any such contact with companies wherever possible. I cannot, for the life of me, understand how such a basic request can get caught up in technowank.

This entry was supposed to have been written and blogged in December, as conventions expect, but I never really got my act together. So, a month overdue, I’d like the present me to remind any future me what it was that made 2005 sparkle.
Note to self: these are not in any specific order, except the first one, which beats all else hands-down.

1. My girlfirend, Jo, and my daughter, Freya – life, whilst being full of wankers and morons, has become more bearable thanks to 17 months of Jon/Jo DNA. She is the best thing that has happened to me, and I thank Jo for being the best thing that Freya and I have.

2. The Internet – without which several of the following highlights would never have been experienced.

3. My game blog – Extremely good fun to write, and has made me realise that trying to pen a(n interesting) blog is a lot harder than it looks.

4. New music – It truly is a fantastic feeling to find new music that one really, really likes. Thanks to the Internet (see number 2) a few bands have found their way into my oft-listened to list, specifically The Mitchell Brothers and Antony and The Johnsons.

5. Seeing Kraftwerk live – I never thought I would get to see them, but they came to Stockholm and performed only as Kraftwerk can. That happened in 2004.

6. Ricky Gervais – This guy can do no wrong in my eyes. The Office, Extras, his two live shows (Politics and Animals), and his podcast for The Guardian have got me crying with laughter. Considering the world IS full of wankers and morons, this is no mean feat.

7. Playing Neverwinter Nights with Leigh, a friend from England – The playing of NWN is almost enough in itself to feature in this list, but playing with Leigh makes it “brilliant”, as he would no doubt say. We’ve got to know Leigh and Carrie loads more because of NWN, and they really are a wonderful pair of people. Again, no mean feat when the world is full etc, etc.

I’m certain there are more I could add to the above, but for the moment I’m all thunked-out. Upadates are, therefor, to be expected.

I took Freya to church today, to a weekly (non-religious) sing-song that is organised by Jesus or someone. It was only when I had sat down and let Freya wander around with the other small children that I realised something: watching small babies interact is like watching a very cute zombie film.

Whether they are crawling, ambling or walking, with arms outstretched after anything that moves/gives stability, there is more than a passing resemblence to a “Day of The Dead”, without the rotting flesh and bitten off limbs.

I told this little gem to one of the mothers there, a French woman, and only received a titter for what I thought was worth a more audible response. This does nothing for my recent discovery.

Perhaps her Frenchness is to blame, and not my humour.

I’ve made the decision that I’m actually not that funny. Notice that it’s a decision and not a realisation: that I came to a while ago.

It has taken a while for me to actually come to terms with such a devastating fact, but It’s a certainty I’m not alone in this admission. There must be millions of people who are funnier in their heads than in stark reality.

It’s not that I think I lack a sense of humour. I can be quite witty when cornered, and many of my friends (whose humour I appreciate lots) laugh at my comments. I just think that the biggest problem is style-based. I use puns/double entendres/play-on-words, which by their very nature are normally rubbish, on a regular basis befit of an Englishman. Such is my lot in life, and it is both a blessing and a curse (the inherent humour more than my nationality.)
I shall take a leaf out of the Borg’s book and assimilate some new styles, though I have my suspiscions that this tactic will not yield results. I mean, the Borg (or should that be The Borg) have taken over many, many civilizations. Even within one little sub-culture there must be loads of people who are really witty, and yet the Borg are never, ever funny. Never.