Letters with no Reply - Rogers Canada

Dearest Rogers Canada,

I know it's hard, and nobody ever wants to go though this. You hope and pray that it won't happen to you, you do the best you can on a daily basis, and still, sometimes, it just doesn't work out.  But you have to accept it, Rogers.

I just don't want to be with you anymore.

I admit that it was pure romance at first.  You went out of your way to keep me happy, you picked up the tab once in a while and, when I called in sheer panic because Space now played Doctor Who instead of CBC, you made sure I could access it, at no extra charge.  It was sweet, Rogers.  You were my knight on a white (and red) horse.

But, well, people change.  I changed.  I just... I can't be like you, always viewing the same channels, slaves to a pre-determined play time.  I just needed to be free, Rogers, to select what I wanted to see when it was best for me, and not dance to the strings of someone else's mandolin.

You were happy with the way things were, I guess.  You never offered me otherwise, even when I asked.  It wasn't easy for me either, Rogers, to break it off with you.

We've had good times.  And I know I'm a catch - always paying on time or twice in one month, for lack of attention.  Making jokes whenever we chatted on the phone. Not downloading more than you were willing to give.

But you have to let go.  The phone calls, letters, e-mails and texts are just embarrassing you, Rogers, and cheapening what we once had.  You've become the stain in my mailbox and the joke at my dinner table. And then you dared send me another letter, simply adressed to "Resident."

...

Think about how that made me feel.

I tried to be nice about it, but I can't anymore.  Your constant initiation of contact is wasteful and perhaps scarring.  Please stop corresponding with me.

We had a good run, Rogers.  But now it's time for you to let go.

Love (in a limited, non-eternal way),

Marie

My Service Providers are Being Scary...

So, after my whole Rogers no bill and fun fail last week, I'm hyper-aware of any contact initiated (or not) by my service providers. Today I received my hydro e-bill, with this little gem in it:

Aaaaaaaaah!  She's STARING at me!  And I'm IN HER FRIDGE!  And why is she so happy about having an empty fridge? Or is she in the furniture store in her pyjamas?  (Please tell me those are supposed to be pyjamas?  It's too dull to leave the house, surely.)  

I'm already on MyHydroLink (I'm a usage tracking junkie with them, too), but if I wasn't, I wouldn't sign up now for fear of either being enslaved in a fridge (and possibly eaten) or for fear that she'd show up at my door and do that face at me.  You know she'd do it early in the morning, too, wearing a dull gray pyjama.  I don't adapt well before my first cup of coffee. I'd either punch her or break down crying. Best not find out.

That photo, right there, is the stuff of nightmares.

But, then again, I haven't been sleeping a whole lot, so I might just be imagining things. But I don't think so.

Oh, and still no sign of that Rogers bill!  Several people have told me that they've also not received their bills, so I checked on the Rogers website to see if they had a notice, and this is the only notice of any type they had: 

Lookee! Tiny little letters! Click to make bigger and actually read...

I'm thinking good on these folk.  They're getting a free phone, and they'll never be billed for it! (Seriously. I want in!)

I'm planning a phase 2 letter if I don't receive it by end of week.  It's only fair and fun to do so! 

Letter with no Reply - Rogers

As I was trying to organize my finances this month, I noticed that my Rogers bill, which usually arrives on the 4th of each month, had not yet graced me with its presence.  I quickly drafted a letter and sent it off to Rogers. Apparently unable of simply asking "where's my bill?", I instead went all freaky weird bondage on them.  I expect I'll eventually get a reply in the form of a restraining order. 
It was bound to happen eventually, let's face it.

Dear Rogers,

Did you forget me, Rogers?  Did you forget our regular date, on the 4th of each month, when you try to impress me with your knowledge of my day-to-day usage and I impress you by questioning false information?  Are we no longer doing this dance of services rendered and payment received?

Let's be honest, after all.  Although I try not to speak of it in polite company, I do pay you for your services, as you well know.  It's always been a bit of a sticky point in our relationship, hasn't it, Rogers?  That you would give me nothing unless I paid you, that you coldly provide what I need, contact me once for payment, and then ignore me the rest of the time, cast aside like yesterday's analog TV?

Come on, Rogers.  I don't want this to end.  I want to continue taking advantage of you, but I want to compensate you for it, too.  So that you'll keep showing up on my television and on my computer, at my demand.  I know how you work.  Receiving payment makes you come.

So just send that bill my way, okay?  I want to check out your numbers and cross-reference my usage.  I want to pay you and use you, Rogers. 

Just like I know you like it.

Love,

Marie

A New Love

Dear friends,

The new year is already plodding along and I've not yet made a peep on my blog. It's hardly intentional, but rather an unfortunate side-effect of my current situation.

Over the holidays, you see, I invited a new person to share my life.  His name is WIP, short for Work In Progress.  It's a beautiful name, isn't it?   Mostly, I call him "Man," short for manuscript.  We're still working through our little nicknames (we're cute, I know! I hate new couples, too. Annoying, gushy things that we are). 

Anyway, Man and I met just at the end of last year, on Christmas day.  I was on my couch, a phlegmy disgusting remnant of the woman I had once been.  I groaned and flipped between a Doctor Who marathon and a Big Bang Theory marathon, and he showed up unexpectedly.  I hesitated at first, not believing on this day, on a holiday, when I was sick and sequestered at home, that he would show up now.

I soon found my manners again. I forced myself off the couch, put on two pairs of fuzzy socks and a thick sweater, made some tea for both of us, and then we sat down together.

It wasn't magic right away. I mostly entertained him because he'd showed up. I mean, to be fair, part of me knew he would soon be coming, but I hadn't expected him today.

The next day, we met for coffee outside the house, with a chaperon, to be proper. But that didn't last. A few days later, I was shutting myself away alone with Man, spending hours together by candlelight.

And I love him. The year is already sliding by as we nurture our romance. Just the other day, he showed me that eating people wasn't such a bad thing. I never knew that! And then, I taught him to clone himself out of safety. He liked that.

I won't go into the details, those are private, for now. He has a very dark kernel in his soul that I find endearing, and he cleaves people and splits their heads open. But don't worry - he's also very gentle and conflicted.

I hope you'll all love him, when you meet him.

And so I'm sorry I've been so silent. But, as all good things must come to an end, I'm hoping this wild romp will end in a few months, to transform from passionate love to something quieter and more everlasting. We'll see how the world greets Man, when I finally let him go.

I promise I'll try and come back more often. When Man and I are taking a break, perhaps.

In the meantime, I hope your 2012 is going well and that you're enjoying a wild, passionate dance of your own.

Love,

Marie

A Parting Letter to 2011

Dearest 2011,

Although I've now lived with you for exactly 365 days, I can't help but feel like I don't know you yet. A distance deepens between us as midnight trudges nearer, and I fear I welcome it. It's horrible to say, after dedicating so much of my life to you, but I believe we never truly connected.

It's not your fault. Really, it's me. No, really.

You see, I rushed into my relationship with you. A whirlwind romance carried us through January, and even most of February, but by March, as I tried to catch my breath, you were dancing to a beat entirely different from my own. You were Metallica to my Tchaikovsky, and though I love Metallica, I just wanted to waltz for a bit.

But I let you carry me forward. I forced my feet to keep pace with yours, even though you thrust me forward as I tried to stop and let the sand run between my toes. You pushed me, 2011, and I let you. Yes, I know I have responsibility in this.

Oh, and the things we managed to do together. We performed at the National Arts Centre for the first time. We were nominated for our first Aurora Award. We won a bronze medal in the Foreword Book Awards. We sold short stories, we met new people, we nurtured old relationships, we laughed and twirled and danced, a wild crazy time of running and stumbling and running again, as though the zombie apocalypse had happened and we were trying to escape Ground Zero.

But, you know what, 2011? I think in 2012, I'll go zombie. I think I'll teach 2012 to treat me gently from the get-go and, when we have to run, I'll run. But not for 365 days. Oh no. 2012 and I will stop and smell the weird little purple flowers that grow on the side of the highway. We'll gaze in each other's eyes, we'll eat fondues, we'll watch B-movies and laugh and we'll sit contented with cups of tea. We'll court stories. That's right, 2011.  2012 and I will have a casual, open relationship.

I hope you can understand why we must part ways tonight. I'll never forget you. You were wild, but fun. You taught me things I'll never forget, shown me sights I'll remember forever. But as a partner, you burned me.  You used me, made me run, and now, at midnight, you're about to cast me aside.

I deserve better, 2011.  I think 2012 and I will hit it off just right.

Love,

Marie

Letters with no Reply - A REPLY!

Yesterday I posted a letter I had sent to Facebook.  My account was reactivated, I had my giggle, and I continued on my way.  But then, in an act of unprecedented customer service responsiveness, Facebook responded to me! 

I squeed when an e-mail popped up in my inbox from "The Facebook Team."  And this is what they said:

Hi Marie,

Thanks for verifying your identity. Note that we permanently deleted your attached ID from our servers.

After investigating this further, it looks like we suspended your account by mistake. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience. You should now be able to log in. If you have any issues getting back into your account, please let me know.

Thanks,

Barry

User Operations
Facebook

Now I like to think that Barry deleted my ID but kept my picture collage. I still think I got locked out because I was an impatient idiot, and Barry was just being kind to what he probably considers a "special case."

This is what I sent Barry in response:

Dear Barry,

Thank you so much for taking the time to reply.  Please find attached proof of my happiness.

Cheers,

Marie

This exchange informs me that corporations respond well to picture collages. Will now endeavour to include one with every letter I send. 

Happy day!

Letters with no Reply - Facebook

By far the longest set-up for a Letter with no Reply.  Isn't it exciting???

Somewhere between my Voices of Venus set, sending off Destiny's Fall to my editor, finishing a short story for an anthology and doing all the fun holidays prep, my brain blew up.  It really did.  In the past few days, I lost my lunch (I found it behind my door, under my coat.  It wasn't very good anymore, which made me sad), I lost my credit card several times (last time Roomy found it on the bathroom counter. Um, what type of transactions am I doing in there, anyway?), and I managed to get locked out of Facebook.

Like, so locked out they requested I send them a scan of a government-issued ID.  Awesome.

It started with me looking to contact someone which I knew was on Facebook.  I tried logging in (which I do every day, at least once a day), and for some reason I kept entering the wrong password. The neurons weren't firing right.

So Facebook got pissed off with me and asked that I provide them a cell number so they could text me a code to use to reactivate my account.  I'm thinking "great security, give you a random cell number..." It's like those credit cards you just tap on the machine instead of entering a code - oh yes, great chip security. But I digress. I'm fine with that, since I apparently keep my credit card in the safety of my bathroom.

Anyway, I enter my cell number and I enthusiastically grab my cell phone and wait.  And wait.  And wait some more. Hu. No text.  I enter it again. No text still.  I enter it again, and again, and again... it was becoming rather obsessive, like hitting the elevator button again and again and again as though it'll make it go faster. Which it doesn't, by the way.  I've tried.

My impatience was rewarded by getting a notice I had been locked out, because my identity was in question. I don't blame them. At this point, I too was questioning at least my sanity, parts of my identity, and if perhaps I'd had too much caffeine that day.

Then I realized I had the person's phone number and didn't need to be on Facebook anyway.  Sigh.

Regardless, I needed to reactivate my account to partake of the wit and charm of my 700+ friends (and yes, they're absolutely all witty and charming. Except that guy.  You know who you are...)

This is the letter I received from them:

Sent: Monday, December 19, 2011 7:16 PM
To: Marie Bilodeau
Subject: Security Concern

You were asked to confirm who you are because our security systems thought you may not be using your real identity with this account or that you may have multiple accounts. If you’ve already tried to log in at www.facebook.com and followed the instructions to confirm your identity, but weren’t able to complete the process, we’ll need to see other proof of your identity.

Here’s how to proceed:

1. Use a scanner or take a digital photo of a government-issued photo ID (such as a driver’s license or passport), which shows  your full first and last name and date of birth.
2. Reply directly to this email and attach the image of your ID to the message.
3. We will confirm that your ID and account information match. As soon as we verify your identity we’ll delete the image of your ID.

Please send an image showing proper identification right away so we can help you get back into your Facebook account. Please note that we will not be able to process your request unless you have submitted the proper identification. Additionally, not submitting proper identification will result in your request being denied.

We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused.

If you have any further questions about this process, please visit our Help Center at the following address: ***

Thank you for your patience, 
The Facebook Team

My reply:

Dear Facebook Team,

Please find attached my driver's licence as proof of identity, as well a picture collage as proof that I understand I was being an impatient idiot, which is what got me locked out of my account.

All the best,

Marie Bilodeau


Attached:

I suppose technically I DID receive a reply - my account was reactivated.  I like to think that, somewhere in Facebook-land, an under-appreciated customer service rep got a chuckle, or at least felt better about their situation in life.  He or she may be under-appreciated and underpaid, but at least, I'm sure, they have the smarts to remember a simple password, the patience not to get locked out of their own accounts, and the grace to deal with idiots who get locked out of their accounts, then decide it'd be hilarious to include a photo collage with their photo ID.

In the meantime, I'm getting ready to crawl under a rock and spare the world from my ever-increasing confusion/stupidity/questionable thought patterns. Well, not really a rock. It'd be cold and uncomfortable. Rather, I'm getting ready to get lots of writing done over the holidays and enjoy many fine and fatty foods. That's better than a rock, I say!

Letters with no Reply - Sears Canada Online

I totally had made diagrams and included pictures, but unfortunately lost them.  It was by far the most complex letter I'd ever sent.  But fear not - I reproduced a diagram just for you!  Or what I imagine it looked like, anyway....

Dear caretakers of Sears Canada Online Catalogue,

Let me begin by saying that yours is a very friendly service and that despite growing doubts that I will ever receive merchandise from you, I would certainly call again to delight in the warm reassurances of your customer service representatives.

I do sympathize - it must be very difficult to assist customers who are faceless.  Although I have always believed my voice and convivial phone demeanour were enough to convey some of my personality over the cold data lines, I was obviously mistaken and sincerely apologize for my error. 

But let me step back a moment and explain.  On January 28, I ordered a family ring (picture and online confirmation attached for your perusal).  The ring was for my mother’s 60^th birthday, which has come and past without a gift, but still boasted a very fine party involving much cake, laughter, and, as all great moments, a few tears shed purely out of love.  You may also be interested to know that of the seven stones affixed to her might-be ring, six represent each one of her children (the seventh and middle one being, of course, her own).  And what is even more interesting is that she only has two biological children, of which I am one (please see attached family album to further comprehend).

Marty, Kat's fiancé, also wanted on, but there was no room.  Wess is also my sister-in-law, but she was my BFF first, so I give her this title.  And now, Ren is married and has a son, my bro and Wess have two kids, and can you imagine the family jewelry now?  I mean, it'd have to be a broche!  A shiny, shiny broche!  See the business they're now missing out on?

As you have no doubt deduced by now, I never received the ring, but have often basked in the glow of your reassurances and promises.  Not prone to suspicion (although perhaps a tad to paranoia), I thought that perhaps you simply needed a face, or seven, as it may be, to expedite the process by which you feel we would most fairly be compensated.  My mother regrettably suffers from some ill health, and is in fact currently on sick leave, and I would love for nothing more than for her to be able to gaze down at her finger and see how loved she is, and always will be. 

But I cannot accomplish that goal without your help. I trust you will find the attached documentation to be sufficient, and encourage you to contact me at (819) ***-****, should you need further information. I have a wonderful picture of my mother in her twenties, and although I agonized over the possibility of sending it to you, in the end, I chose to preserve the keepsake and not submit it to harsh scanner light.  But I could be convinced otherwise.

I hope to hear from you soon and wish you a most marvelous day.

Love,

Marie

Note: My mom's good now and enjoys her ring and various grandchildren. So I guess we can close this case as a happy ending, though I did bring in pictures of my mother to one of their store counters in an attempt to gain either sympathy or speed.  Gained latter. 

Letters with no Reply - Manuscript

Sometimes it's best not to get replies. Or send letters.  Still, a letter needed to be written to this evil, uncooperative manuscript.  It was going to be an awesome book, a prequel to Destiny's Blood, but it was not meant to be. Heck, it didn't WANT to be!  I was struggling (for a whole month!)

Meanwhile, not knowing I was working on this despicable book, Dragon Moon Press requested two sequels to Destiny's Blood.  Now there was a sign that I should change writing gears!

Once I started writing the first sequel, I understood why the prequel wasn't working out. My heroes were not in the right place, or rather the right time. The sequel started tumbling together as I used bits of the prequel, their story now supporting this story instead of being the story. (Work that out in your heads.)

As the first of those two sequels is now in Gabrielle Harbowy's awesome editing hands, it's time for me to truly let go of that failed prequel. Here's the letter I wrote to it before giving up on it.

___________________________________

Dearest Manuscript,

I was very excited about your imminent arrival.  I cleaned up my desktop and my writing desk for you.  I made a new file.  I archived old documents.  I bought a new notebook (hard-cover, spiral-bound, 8.5x11 – my faves), and I purchased multiple-coloured pens to welcome you in style.

Despite all of this, you have yet to show up.  After the first few days I brushed it off as a minor held-back, perhaps a traffic jam?  But it has been over a month, and I have come to believe that you, manuscript, are inconsiderate.

Oh, the plans I had for you.  We were going to dive back into the world of Destiny’s Blood and face the Ether Wars.  We were going to rely on the powers of the Berganda to lead us through the wild chase, and help a young woman find her best friend and her true home.  People were going to laugh, cry, and feel damn good about the whole thing by the end.

And I was ready for that ending.  I had the last party all planned out.  Our Berganda heroine was going to come back after having faced pain, death, true friendship, loss and hope, and she was going to go back home, where it all began.  And that was going to be the greatest metamorphosis for her, and it would have changed her fate forever.  A fate changed of her own choice. That was going to be the best part.

But no.  You just didn’t feel like showing up.

I'm disappointed in you, Manuscript. Very, very disappointed.  But you know what? I'll go on without you. There are plenty of other manuscripts that would like to hang out with me. I don't need you.

So there.

Love,

Marie
__________________________

Letters with no Reply - Videotron

Videotron is a huge cable and Internet provider in Quebec.  I loved them and then I didn't.  Really not.  I believe this is the original letter with no replies.  To be fair, I never did receive another bill, which I suppose is a type of reply. 

Dear Videotron,

Although I truly sympathize that business may currently be financially challenging, I find myself within the impossibility of paying bills for a service that you no longer provide for my household.

I also understand that it may be difficult choosing which of your old clients to harass with repetitive billing, and am indeed flattered you have chosen me, despite paying a disconnection fee and already spending entirely too much time on the phone fixing the last bill mix-up.  I am afraid, however, that I must decline this honour.

If you would like a list of whom to harass in the region with faulty bills, I suggest you simply do like all successful spammers and purchase one online.  As it stands, please remove me from your bill-spamming list.

Don't misunderstand me - I applaud your enterprising spirits in raising funds. Truly. I must, however, reinforce the point that I have decided not to pay this faulty bill, reflecting the same decision I took for the last five months.  Please accept my consistency as proof that I will not be returning to your company, neither now nor in a hundred years.  I have entirely too little time available to try to sort out your business dealings.

Rest assured that I will not recommend your company to any of my acquaintances, and may in fact stomp on any of your future advertisements. 

Love,

Marie

Letters with no Reply - Bell Canada

When I posted the Hallmark letter, I knew I had written a few other letters but couldn't find them. Over the weekend, I found some more and realized that wow, I may have written too many of these. They entertain me. I note that I don't write as many of them now, but instead indulge in battles with computer answering services and untrained customer service representatives. According to this letter, this wasn't always a passion of mine, but rather its shaky beginnings.

Dear Bell Canada,

Let me begin by saying: wow.  The level of innovation in your customer service and technical assistance is really quite out of the ordinary.

The whole “Create-Your-Own-Adventure” theme is really neat and unexpected!  (If you don’t know those books, you were sorely cheated in your childhood.)  I mean, at first, when a Russian-type sounding gentleman hopped onto my line and interrupted a lovely chat I was having with my brother, I must admit I was slightly taken aback.  And then when I hung up my phone and picked it up only to be serenaded by his interesting dialect again, I was surprised, but accepting.

After visiting with my brother, as I could obviously not speak with him on my phone and didn't wish to waste my precious cell phone minutes, I returned to find, with some disappointment, that my line was full of static.

But no fear – I’ve read enough Create-Your-Own-Adventure stories to know I must pick a path and follow it to a perhaps bitter end.

So, with the help of my cell, I called robot chick Emily and she transferred me to tech support (don’t you find that system just a tad freaky?  I mean, people, Asimov’s three laws of robotics should not be so lightly ignored. And I'm sure you ignored them.  But I digress and am willing to accept her as a secondary character in your little customer service quest.  Kind of like an avatar.)   (Oh, and I was calling on my cell using my very limited minutes, by the way.)

Anyhow, the tech gentleman kindly gave me another number as I am a Quebec resident – 1-866-556-8569.  I hung up and, accepting of these role-playing games, I dialed the new number (we’re now at 62 minutes on my 100 minutes a month limited cell phone plan. Just FYI).  The line connected, and the message struck a foul blow from the murky depths of the phone.... “The number you have dialed cannot be connected from your region.”

Good plot twist!  Didn’t see it coming at all!  And I read lots of fiction, and I mean weird unpredictable stuff, so kudos to you!

So I follow the path you’ve laid down at my feet.  My home number, should you care to investigate, is 819-***-****.  If I’ve reached the climax of Bell’s little Search for Technical Assistance story, then I suppose my phone line will be repaired.  Otherwise, I kindly ask you to please redirect my efforts.  I’m thinking to some company like Sprint Canada.

Though I would miss the fun...

Love,

Marie

Letters with no Reply - Hallmark

I was cleaning out my really, really messy filing system, and came across a few letters that never received an answer.  Which was too bad, as I had lots of fun writing them. Oh well, at least they'll make for fun blog material, now!

This one was drafted to Hallmark, several years ago.  I lost the accompanying screenshot, which saddens me a bit.  I had e-mailed AND faxed it, to cover my bases, but never heard a peep back from the card-wielding company.  I guess they didn't have a pre-fabricated message that dealt with this particular issue.

_____

Dear Hallmark Canada,

Let me begin by stating that I am a long-time fan of your products and services and do enjoy sharing and receiving Hallmark Moments.  I think they’re just neat and very targeted – you promise sentimental and usually the person cries nice heartfelt tears; you promise funny and guffaws of laughter echo down the hallway.

Which is why I feel it’s imperative to write to you regarding some false promises you are currently making.  It all began when my brother helped me out with various household chores and, wishing to appropriately thank him, I sent him a Hoops & YoYo card promising “a million thank yous.”  To be honest, I thought that was a lot of thank yous since I’d already given him a LEGO and bought him supper, but what the heck, a million thank yous could be the icing.

I innocently sent my brother the card.  Now, let me just state here that my brother can be obsessive.  I mean, once, when we were children, he spent days (I believe) cataloging each piece of LEGO from his collection (which was impressive then and is really impressive now.  He’s over thirty and happily married, in case you’re wondering.  I certainly would be.)  So I shouldn’t have been surprised when he left the card running on his computer to actually count out his thank yous.

Each day at the end of the day he would send me an update on the card and how many thank yous he had received thus far.  This was cute for the first three days, but on the fourth day Hoops & YoYo dared to continue thanking my brother beyond the stated million, and it just got embarrassing.  I mean, I didn’t want to thank him THAT much, so now I have to think of other chores for him to do so he can earn them, and meanwhile he’s thinking that he’s earned all those thank yous, and I don’t want him to get the wrong impression.  Thank yous don’t come freely, as I’m sure you know.

I’ve attached the screenshot he kindly sent me of the final thank yous seconds before he closed the card, finally.  As you can see, he received 10,519,023 more thank yous then intended.  I have to break it to him that I didn’t mean to send him that many.  Do you fine spreaders of good cheer have a “Thank You Retraction” card, perhaps?

Thankfully my brother and I are good friends, so I’m certain we’ll get through this hump.  But perhaps you could be more careful in future advertising.  One can only thank the man who used to lock you up in closets so much.

I hope you have a lovely day.

Love,

Marie
_____

I can't remember what lovely thing my brother had helped me with, unfortunately.  But he was thanked for it, that I'm certain of.   We're still good friends, so we worked through this, but it was no thanks to Hallmark.