Mood: :shock:

I tried to gas up my car on the way home only to find that my credit card was declined. It was also declined last week when I ordered pizza but I figured I had missed a payment or something, but I paid since so it shouldn’t have been declined.

When I called I found out that my card had been flagged for suspicious activity and they called and left me a message (thanks for letting me know, in-laws). When I didn’t call back they suspended the card. It appears on Sep. 26 a couple small online charges came through, then $500 and $1000 attempts. The $500 went through but Visa caught it pretty quick.

I’m not responsible for any of the fraudulent charges and will be getting a new card in a couple weeks. Mellissa’s card still works so we’re okay for emergencies.

I don’t use my card often, so can pretty much track it down to when it happened. For those who went to Dave’s stag: if you used your credit card at the restaurant before the game or the cash machine at the bar afterwards (most likely the latter), check your credit card statements ASAP! The charges showed up 9 days later, and I didn’t use the card in between then and when the fraud started.


Mood: :thrpp:

This will only be mildly amusing if you don’t know who Neil Gaiman is. Thanks to Puck for suggesting a modification of my original idea, which makes it less obscure:


Mood: :roll:

I noticed that comments on this blog weren’t being e-mailed to me a few months ago but the Smart Unread Comments were picking them up just fine. Then Puck noticed that his latest comment wasn’t appearing on the index page ["Comments (0)"] but showed fine on the page for the post itself.

Was finally able to find something on it online: Spam Karma was somehow invalidating the comments on the index page but not on the post page. Solution: upgrade Spam Karma. I chose instead to uninstall it (because that’s just silly) and use Askimet, but there’s no way to fix the old comments. New ones appear just fine.


Mood: :?:

I went through the Aldergrove crossing when I went down to the States and back. Here’s how each encounter went:

Wednesday evening. Two female U.S. border guards were in the box when I got there. The older one was standing, almost looming, and had a stern, piercing look.
Border guard: “Identification please.”
(I handed my driver’s license over)
BG: “Where do you live?”
Me: “Chilliwack”
BG: “Where were you born?”
Me: “Vancouver”
BG: “Why are you entering the States, and for how long?”
Me: “Attending a seminar in Seattle for two days.”
BG, with more intent look: “Are you teaching this seminar?”
Me, remembering how the U.S. government hates foreigners working in their country, taking jobs from them: “Wha–? Oh, no, definitely not. Learning.”
BG: “What is it for?”
Me: “Software testing.”
BG: “What do you do?”
Me: “I…test software…”
BG: “What?”
Me, rethinking how that sounded: “I work with software.”
BG: “Where do you work?”
Me: “(reference removed, since I’ve never mentioned it on this blog), in Abbotsford.”
BG, after her partner looks it up on the computer and giving me back my driver’s license: “Okay, go on through.”
Me: “Whew.”

Return trip, Friday evening. A lone guard manned the box. He was reading a book and his feet were up.
Border guard: “Where do you live?”
Me: “Chilliwack”
BG: “How long have you been gone?”
Me: “Two days.”
BG: “Value of goods purchased?”
Me: “Nothing.”
BG, returning to his book: “Drive on through.”
Me, still holding my driver’s license because he never asked for it: “Uh…thanks!” (vroom)