becoming

you can read this as is, but if you take an hour, go watch Nanette, the special by Hannah Gadsby on Netflix, you will have a broader understanding of what i'm struggling and flailing to say here. i've watched Nanette 3 times already and she says things so beautifully, so powerfully, so clearly and concisely. it has truly impacted me in a way i can't explain. i have never, ever, ever before connected so deeply, so profoundly to someone else's story. I've never seen myself in someone else so completely. her raw honestly revealed and unlocked ALL of what follows for me.

no wonder i hate myself so much. i grew up not even knowing gay people existed. there were NO gay people in my home town, so OF COURSE i couldn’t even begin to think that _i_ could be one of “those people.” but i knew enough to know i was glad i wasn't one of "those people." i grew up in church that didn’t even address “those people” because “those people” didn’t exist.

which is worse? invisibility or non-existence?

BUT if “those people” DID exist, they would be gross and wrong and we shouldn’t like them or be friends with them. they all have aids, they’re all loud, flamboyant, flaming, fishnet shirt wearing freaks. you shouldn’t like them. that’s just not something you actually DO. they’re weird. people don’t like weird people.

“don’t be gay” was both a slur and a command. 

but i AM one of those people. and i grew up not HATING a part of myself, but not even having a clue that i was missing an entire half of me. i still really don’t know what that half of me is, but i know it’s there.

but it was ok, because i could pass as straight. i do like men. so i can just ignore all these bad gay thoughts and only pay attention to these good straight thoughts. you get really good at compartmentalizing. picking and choosing what to feel and when. for survival. for *some* acceptance. so we just won’t acknowledge this whole half. it’s fine. look. just tuck those feelings away. and a few of these. and ALL of those. you get really, really good at it. but living with the very real and tangible fear of what would happen if anyone knew about those thoughts...it makes you almost...i dont know...dysfunctional. unable to form ANY kind of bond.

or relationship.

on either side.

because how bad is hearing all those things for YEARS and just holding it inside feeling it about myself, NEVER able to speak up. never being able to say: STOP TALKING ABOUT ME LIKE THAT. 

and to be completely honest, i’m still awkward around gay people. BECAUSE I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT HALF OF MYSELF IS. i do like women. 100% without question. i am incredibly, powerfully, attracted to women. not for attention. not as a party favor. but as beautiful, powerful, sexy, intelligent, amazing human beings. but all i know about BEING that half of myself is hate and to fear and those feelings. i shouldn’t have them. they shouldn't exist because they’re bad.

and because i can pass as straight, i don’t know what it’s like to feel the full weight of being gay. to feel the judgement ALL THE TIME. i’ve been able to “choose” to keep half of myself hidden.  i am still attracted to men. so when im attracted to a woman, i just ignore that bit and wait for another man to circle around. i’ll just wait and keep the women part to myself. i’ve “had an out” this whole time. but i do still feel the judgement, because i can’t just stop being gay. i can hide that part. but that doesnt make it any less real.

here’s the bitch of it though. i’m not just compartmentalizing, i really am scared to “be gay.”

i see so much anger and hate still. i know so. many. people. who are not accepting.

i know so few who are.

the teeter totter is off balance. 

i grew up just aware enough of “gay” to know it was two things: aids and death. thats it. thats “gay” in its entirety. not people. not lives. not relationships and culture. it’s AIDS and DEATH.  that’s fucking terrifying.

everything i know about “gay” is hardship. and i have plenty of that already thanks to some stellar life choices that were *actual* choices. for people who still think gay is a choice- do you think i’ve spent my life CHOOSING the be afraid of half of myself? scared to death (possibly literally) that someone might find out? so if i can compartmentalize that section and keep SOME scary stuff away? i can’t compartmentalize kids. or tragedy. trust me, i’ve tried. those fuckers are slightly more demanding. but this “half gay” part...yeah. just shove that aside and ignore it. it’s just trouble anyway. so what’s a little misery and feeling broken? it will be fine. suck it up. there’s other things going on. just raise your kids and go to work. 

so i just tried to learn how to blend in. my whole life is about trying to blend in. and people talked around me. as i grew up and became an adult, i HEARD all the hate and all the things i was TERRIFIED of. i heard the judgement and the venom and the dehumanization. i heard the jokes and the slurs and the denial of basic human rights.

but they weren’t directed AT me. they never have been. because no one knew i’m “one of those." i just ended up having an unintentional extra seat to the shit show. and all i had to do is keep my mouth shut. just blend in. just keep “being straight”. i look straight. i have kids. i was married to a man. i talk about dating men (while i dream about dating women). they don’t know theyre talking about me because i’ve learned to blend in so well. and besides, it’s not really even me because i can “turn it off” half the time.

and i hear it, all the time. and i can see how terrible the world is to people and i’m a fucking shallow selfish bitch. i KNOW all the terrible things people think and say about “those people.” i’ve heard the things people say when “one of those” isn’t around. the things coward are too scared to say TO THE FACE of the person they’re slandering. but they WERE saying it TO MY FACE. they just didn’t know. they say ALL the things when the person they’re talking to isn’t around. you know how the room goes quiet when someone walks in because assholes suddenly lose their nerve? THAT’S THE STUFF I HEAR. and i am terrified i’m not strong enough to tolerate it for real. i would rather live in perpetual fear and loathing of myself and hearing those things in the background than learn to love and accept and stand up for myself. come back to that later and try to unpack that. oy. 

instead i’ve learned to hate half of myself ALL of the time AND pretend it doesn’t exist. and somehow make myself think that’s fine.

so i live with my fear of half of myself because i was raised to hate half of myself. not even hate really. just always thought of it as “wrong” or “against nature”.  you didn’t have to hate it if just didn’t exist. and, mostly, it still doesn’t exist. i've never dated a woman or had a long term relationship with a woman.

to be fair though, i haven’t really had any relationships with men either though. it’s hard to let people like you when you’re programmed to hate your self for reasons you are *JUST NOW* starting to figure out.

but that fear, that hiding has kept me totally away from the community. i don’t know what it’s like to “be gay.” i've only ever been around a few gay people in my entire life, individually. and events like pride where all the gay people are being gay and letting all their gay out in public is SO overwhelming to me. i'm a quiet gay. i don’t know how to be a part of it. i don’t know how to be a proper gay. 

and then, just for fun, add a little guilt. guilt for giving into the fear. guilt for being able to hide. guilt for actually hiding. because that gets to be a thing too.

and then, ON TOP OF THAT, oh, by the bi, being bi isn’t really a thing. being bi “don’t exist,” i’m “just confused.”  you can’t REALLY like both. which one do you like MORE?

YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE A SIDE.

again. which is worse? being invisible or not existing?

and i just want to yell at everyone: maybe it’s not about a “which” ITS ABOUT A WHO. people are more than the parts that go out or in. 

but i am, fully, completely bi-sexual. it does exist. it is a REAL thing. i really, truly do, EQUALLY like both sides.

but i even in that, i know i have it so easy. i only have to hate half of myself. “real” gay people don’t have a “choice” i can “choose” to be gay or straight.

that’s really how i think of being bi. i can compartmentalize it and “be straight”

but here’s the thing, even when i’m “being straight” it doesn’t mean i’m suddenly “not gay.”

just because it’s baseball season doesn’t mean you’re not looking forward to football season. you don’t have to stop liking one just because it isn’t happening right now. 

being bi doesn’t mean you’re “straight” half the time, it means all the time you get to listen to people shame half of who you are TO YOUR FACE because “they didn’t know” you ARE what they’re talking about. that part doesn’t just go into hibernation when you’re “being straight." it means you find out, up front, that some people are only, ever, half ok with who you are. at most. makes so many more relationships fake from the beginning. being friends is contingent on you “staying straight” and staying acceptable. you know that if you ever allow “that part” of you out, you lose half the people, instantly. you’ve already heard their judgement and their opinions. and that’s fucking terrifying to hear and to carry around. all. the. time. constantly worried that if people realize you “tricked them” what’s waiting on the other side.

and then you add in that even in the realm of gay, bi-sexual still isn’t quite  accepted.

i’ve searched my whole life for a place to belong.

i’m too straight to be proper gay.

and i’m too gay to be proper straight.

i love country music and books. you can’t be queer and love country music. you’re supposed to love pop music and dance parties, not staying home and reading. i’m not into glitter and wine. sure brunch is good, but have you ever had a good steak and bourbon late at night?  i wear jeans but not flannel. i wear cowboy boots, but not doc martens. i’m too femme to be butch, but too butch to be femme.

i’m not the “right kind” of gay, even if i could accept myself for being gay.

it’s bad enough that i can’t even accept myself, now BOTH SIDES can’t accept me.

but i am good for a party trick. you know, for the girl who wants to give her boyfriend a special birthday present.

for the couple who wants to “keep things fresh” in the bedroom.

because that’s a super special feeling. being a side show piece. someone for fun, not someone for real.

i just want a place to belong. i want to belong WITH MYSELF. and i want to belong with others.

and i’ve learned to hide that. #singleasfuck has become a joke. if i can laugh at it then maybe it won’t hurt so bad admitting i can’t find someone who accepts me. STARTING WITH MYSELF.

you think being single is lonely? try hating the only person you spend time with.

so. here i am. recognizing this MASSIVE truth about myself. and now the world around me seems so open but so raw at the same time. and i don’t know where to go from here.

what in my life is real? what in my home is real? what are parts i’ve constructed to hide or try to blend in?

do i need to “gay up” my house now? do i need to start finding a way to “be more gay?”

what do i need to do to start really embracing and living that half of me?

maybe recognize that she’s quietly been there, all along, patiently waiting to be recognized?

it’s not an accident that in my own house, where i picked all the things, that all my artwork is of females. mermaids. tiki girls. portraits. all feminine. because that’s what i’m attracted to.

my neon rainbow. it’s not an accident that i bought that on impulse at target. it’s not an accident that it’s the first light i turn on in my living room every evening and the last light i turn off.

there’s a reason my country music is brandy clark, kacey musgraves, marren morris, jennifer nettles. women stronger and bolder than i am about using their voice.

there’s a reason all my favorite authors are women. joshilyn jackson. kate furnival. sara gruen. jk rowling. women who have learned to use their gifts and talents and not be afraid to make their stories be heard.

i am in awe of the women who know their own worth and fight for equality. the emma watson, kerry washington, gal gadot, rose mcgowan women out there standing up saying THIS ISN’T RIGHT and making the change happen. 

it goes beyond sexuality. some of those women are gay or bi. most of them aren’t. but i am so attracted to women because of who they can become. because of their strength. because of their fight and determination.

but i also still. love. men. i adore male partners and friends who bring a different perspective to my life. a different experience. a different set of expectations. men have taught me to be tough, thick skinned, resourceful. i appreciate the traditional sense of belonging they represent. i appreciate the order and construct they provide. i’m very attracted to masculinity, in the calm way. in their acceptance of the traditional role as provider and protector. NOT in the controller and testosterone soaked way. i have no use for big trucks and little egos and people who use fear to manipulate. 

my personality is very ordered and structured and traditional. logic and reason. doing things the proper way. making the proper choices. i long for a partner, male or female, that can help me have a structured, logical, loving, accepting life.

but i guess to look for that in a partner, i need to start looking for that in myself first.

sludge

it's been a long time since i've posted a light/fun blog. i was going to apologize for that, but life hasn't exactly been light or fun lately and i need to quit "should-ing" myself about what to write or feel.

i should be getting over london.

i should be enjoying the holidays.

i should be...

fuck all that. i'm having a fuck of a last few weeks. things are the hardest they've been in a while and i'm not going to apologize or feel bad for admitting that.

i've been trying not to let myself get stuck in a pity party. i've been trying to go about my day and just let things feel like normal. it's fucking exhausting. right here, right now, things are not okay and i'm not going to pretend they are.

i am working on making things better. i'm not sitting here just wallowing. this isn't about poor me, how do i get out of this. i'm already working on it. but for a moment, i'm going to just flat say: THIS, this part right here, it sucks. and it's okay to feel bad.

i'm not happy at my jobs. sorry if my bosses happen to be reading this. i don't like working so many different places and still barely patching by. i don't like waking up on a saturday in a panic because i can't remember which office i'm supposed to be at. i don't like that i can't even cover my own ass insurance wise even though it's available at both jobs. i don't like that i need to find ANOTHER new job. i don't like this much change. notice please that the jobs themselves aren't the problem. i like where i work. i like my jobs. i like the people i work with. i DON'T like that i put myself in this corner. i don't like that i feel horrible knowing that i need to leave sooner than later to take care of myself and my kids. i don't like the pending feeling of walking away from people that took a chance on me and helped me get through a damn hard spot. i don't like that i have to go back to a corporate (or equivalent) grind. i don't like the idea of another first day. i don't like the idea of another new set of people to get used to. but i know i have to make a change. i need insurance. i need solid hours. i need to know each day when i wake up where i'm supposed to be. i need to be a grown up again.

speaking of needing insurance: it sucks giant balls that A) i'm fucking sick. B) i have to apply and prove how broke i am to try to get approved to maybe be put on a waiting list for surgery C) i have giant fucking bills already piling up from the ER trip, the doctor trip, the prescriptions. i know surgery will be a few days off work, which means cuts to the paychecks. i'm too poor to be sick, but according to the paperwork i make too much money to get assistance. i HATE the looks i get when i say i don't have rent or a car payment. well, if you can afford a house, what are you doing in our offices? ummm...everyone died and i got one check, one time and THOUGHT i was doing the right thing. holy fuck has that decision bit me in the ass more than a few times already. i fucking hate that i'm scared to eat food. sure, it's nifty that i've already dropped 15 pounds but i HATE that i never know what will wake me up in the middle of the night in crazy pain. i fucking hate that if shit goes sideways between now and the possible waiting list, there's no plan B. MAYBE a hospital will do surgery if it's an emergency situation. MAYBE. in the meantime- when was the last time my will was updated? what would happen to the spawns? why the fuck did i ever give up my desk jockey job with good insurance and plenty of sick leave? i hate how irresponsible it makes me feel. i hate how helpless it makes me feel. i hate all of this fucking stupid bullshit. all over a fucking extra body part that no one needs anyway. seriously evolution- couldn't have taken care of this a few thousand years ago for me?

and here's the big one: you knew it was coming. i'm still working through the london trip.

it's killing me. in strange ways. when i said it would be a life changing trip, i had no idea what that could possibly mean.

there's two parts to this one, and it's going to get ugly and dark. welcome to my brain the last few weeks. it's not a good place to be.

part one: new york: we've been keeping in touch. i've been trying to dial back and just be a friend and a support. i'm doing a shitty job at it. i care so much about him that it's killing me holding back everything. i want to just say what i feel and all that girl crap- especially on days like today watching another huge national tragedy happen. i know too damn well how short life is. i want to be able to say what i feel when i feel it because i've learned the hard fucking way you more often than not don't get the second chance to say it. but i know at the same time he's not in the right place to hear it. i don't know if or when he will be. i do know that we've had very limited text conversations since i've been there. i haven't "seen" him on skype once since then. we haven't talked via phone or skype at all. and i know he has no clue what my brain has been doing since i got on the plane home. he has no clue all the crap that i've been working through. he has no clue how much this whole thing is tearing me apart. and he shouldn't right now. he's already got enough shit he's dealing with- he doesn't need my emotional baggage on top of it. and so i'm stuck in this horrible place of not being able to say anything and just being WRECKED. i don't know how to just be a friend when i care this much about someone. and i know this will sound like a petulant child, but it doesn't seem fair that i should have to stuff my emotions away and be this miserable just because he's not ready for it right now. yes, i just said it doesn't seem fair. because normally life is just so fair.
and it's killing me not to be able to talk or text to him more often and more than "how was your day" "busy" type crap. the worst part checks in on a level 10 crazy girl level- the app that i use to text him shows the last time someone was on line. i can see that he's been in the app. i can see he's been checking his phone and not responding to or starting a conversation. like right now: open the app and it shows he last checked in at 430 this evening. i haven't heard from him since wednesday night. do you have any idea what that does to a girl brain?
and i know there’s the argument of just getting over it and kicking him to the curb. how do you do that to someone you’ve invested 8 years in? especially when they’re going through some honestly TERRIBLE shit that can fuck any person up and change everything about the way they respond to things and their day to day interactions. i can’t give up on him and honestly- i don’t want to. i still hang on to the fact that when shit hit the fan, i was the one he called and wanted to talk to. i hang on to the fact that the whole time i was there he kept saying how glad he was to have me sitting next to him. he liked looking over and seeing me. i can’t dismiss that after 8 years, seeing him again was smooth and seamless. how often does that happen? after that amount of time you can just pick up right where you left off? i can’t get over him smiling at me and telling me i’m gorgeous. i can’t get over all the strange, random things that make him totally perfect for me. we have the same fucking cereal bowls. sounds stupid, but seriously- we both have the same tony the tiger cereal bowl. dumbest thing on earth but it’s still a thing. i made his coffee exactly right the first try. hell, his dog didn’t even bark at me once (and put her toy in my suitcase within an hour of being there). i just. i can’t give up. but i haven’t found a way to survive it yet either.

then there’s this other part of it.

this has nothing to do with new york oddly enough. but everything to do with the trip.

when i came home i dissected every part of every moment trying to find answers in speculation. i’m a virgo. it’s what we do. we over analyze and drive ourselves insane trying to find a concrete answer to everything even when there is no answer. i picked apart everything. even this idea: we had sex once when we got there, then his back hurt too much to be able to do it again. he did try one other time but just couldn’t. so. hmmm. was it because his back really was hurt? or was his  back a convenient excuse to get out of having sex with me? did my body change too much from the last time he saw me? was he no longer attracted? was i not good enough? was it too soon to have someone new in his bedroom after his wife leaving? you can imagine all the dark corners a crazy girl brain can wander off into.

the question itself: injury vs excuse, is a moot point. i don’t know. i don’t know what was going on in his head. i can speculate all day long but unless i ask new york directly that’s a question i’ll never have an answer for. at this point it doesn’t matter. there’s argument in my head as to if it ruined or saved the trip. how would i have felt if i had gone over there and it HAD been the crazy sexcapade i planned on? would i have just felt like a cheap tart that paid all that money just for sex? the world’s most backwards call girl? maybe it was better that we were able to just spend time together without all the sex muddying the waters?

but question as to why we didn’t have sex: doesn’t matter.

here’s what matters. i asked one of my oldest friends the question. he has no better answer than i do. it’s all speculation. even harder for him- it’s one sided information. but he is a guy- he may have a better idea of how another guy brain works and 99% of his readings have been right, but it’s still just speculation.

here’s how the conversation went:

me: that’s the hardest part for me. i just want to know an honest why. if i wasn’t what he remembered after 8 years, fine. just say so. if i was too fat, just say so. whatever it is, just shoot me and put me out of my misery.

him: yup. i agree. when did he tell you about his back? just before you left?

me: after i got there. yeah. ouch. good excuse to avoid having sex with someone you’re not into.

him: yup. that’s exactly it too.


“that’s exactly it too.”

my very worst, most painful thought about myself- that someone, a very important someone would lie to me to get out of having to be with me- that’s exactly it.

i know he didn’t mean it to hurt, he was just speculating and being honest with me, but holy fuck did that open a pandoras box of self image issues.

so, i’ve had that rattling around in my head for the last week.

i have a hard time with my body. i want to love myself the way i am. the person i see in my head and in the mirror is a gorgeous creature. i take care of myself, i do my make up carefully, i try really hard to pick out clothes that fit my body and make me look my best. i’m a terribly vain creature. i hate leaving the house without at least mascara. i worry about my hair and my nails. i don’t want to be submitted for the people of walmart blog. in the mornings when i’m done with getting ready i generally feel GOOD about myself. i like what i see. i’m ok with my size and shape. then something happens- sometimes i’ll see a picture of myself. sometimes i’ll look in the mirror when i get home and realize something went tragically wrong at some point and no one warned me. i really do take THE WORST pictures on earth. that isn’t part of my vanity, that’s a cold truth. i’ve had friends take pictures of me and say WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED? so when i’m out and about on the town doing tweet ups and things then get home and see the pictures- it’s hard. i’m learning not to let it get to me, whatever is in the picture is how people see me all the time even if it’s not how i see myself.

BUT. to think that the image of myself that i hate the most- to think that’s really why someone wouldn’t want to be with me. to think that they can’t even glimpse the person i see in the mirror in the mornings- that fucking HURTS. i want someone that sees me as the beautiful creature i see in myself. i want them to see the sexy girl dancing in the kitchen making dinner, not a beached whale having a seizure. i want someone to see the sexy person that i feel like i am even if perhaps i don’t look exactly like i do in my head.

and i know- big shock that a guy would dismiss a girl because of her looks. oldest news story around. hell, i had a lover once tell me straight out that i was too fat to date. it was ok to sleep with me and hang out at my house, but he couldn’t be seen at clubs with me.

so this isn’t the first time i’ve heard this. not a new shocking revelation.

but there’s something about the way this one happened. coming from one of my closest people about the man that i care the most about. it’s the worst thing in the world from the two most important people.

i hate my body right now for being sick. i hate that i’m genetically not a petite girl. i hate myself for not being more proactive about getting in shape. i hate myself for being so vain and worried about it all. i hate that it affects how people see and interact with me.

i don’t need another reason to hate myself. i’m doing a pretty damn good job of it all on my own.

but to hear that. to have it be what changed the trip? to hear that it’s not just me having a paranoid thought in my head that YES, it’s exactly what a guy would think? that’s a whole black, destructive level of hate i haven’t felt towards myself in a long time.

and i’ve been trying to work through it but it’s one of those things that the instant i even begin to think about it i can just feel this dark spiral setting in and i don’t have time for that. i have kids, i have jobs, i have a magazine, i have shit to do. i can’t sit around paralyzed trying to work through that feeling. i don’t have the time or the ability to hide under the covers and be sad or hurt. better to just stick it on the back burner. funny thing about the back burner though, it can’t be ignored forever. especially when there’s piles of stress coming from every direction coupled with lack of sleep, more than normal pain levels, suddenly the back burner is the front corner burner on high and boiling over. “that’s exactly it.” i’ve been mulling it over every day. hating myself a little more every day. i’ve been trying to dismiss it but damn it all if the bad stuff isn’t harder to get rid of than any good thing. and at this point it’s outlasted my small reserve of good things. and all i can see right now is the negative. the lack of text messages. too many questions, no answers. the negative body images taking over. the negative self talk. the negative beliefs. i’m starting to drown in them. i guess writing about it is my way of clawing back to the surface. maybe it will rattle around less stuck to paper.

i don’t have many answers right now. i’m working on the ones i can. i’m working on a better job that takes care of ish. i’m working on getting the medical crap resolved somehow.

this last one though- both parts of it. still not sure how to take it on. how to make it better. which for a natural fixer...it’s a little stressful not being able to come up with an answer or a solution. vicious cycle that bit. stress about an issue. more stress about not being able to resolve the stress. stress about the new stress from not being able to resolve the initial stress. quite dizzying and draining.

but i’m not giving up. it isn’t in me, for better or worse. i’ll keep looking for answers and solutions. find a way to hate myself less and let go of the rest of it. i can’t change what’s happened. until my delorean gets back from the shop at least. i can’t force now to be magically and suddenly better. and worry/stress is like a rocking chair- whole lot of nothing that gets you nowhere. maybe the answer is simply that there is no answer and i have to be okay with that. maybe the answer is not yet or be patient. the good lord himself knows how little patience i have. the line was too long to wait to get any more when they were passing it out. maybe this is a chance for me to see my worse self image and learn to get over it. maybe it’s a wake up call- having the worst things about yourself confirmed can be a powerful motive for change.

i’m working through the sludge. i don’t particularly like it but i’m not simply going to stay stuck in it either.

why i hate comcast:

so. i tried to log into my comcast account today (phone/tv/internet for those lucky few who don't know the company) to check my bill and was greeted with a: "please contact the primary user of this account to set up a pin/secret question" error message. umm...i AM the primary user. so i CALLED customer service. they reset the password and "fixed" the problem. signed in again, same error message. so i tried one of their nifty "chat" sessions...here's how that went:

(if you don't want to read the whole thing, here's a quick summary: FUCK YOU COMCAST. YOU FUCKING SUCK.)

LiveAssist Transcript

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chat id : 52c1bb4a-9e51-4b08-a7c5-99ca7d46b7e0

Problem : Need to set a pin and secret question to be able to view my account

sherry > Need to set a pin and secret question to be able to view my account

Armi > Hello sherry_, Thank you for contacting Comcast Live Chat Support. My name is Armi. Please give me one moment to review your information.

Armi > How are you today Sherry?

sherry_ > i cannot view my bill

sherry_ > it is requiring a pin and secret question but will not allow me to set those

Armi > I understand you are not able to view your bill because it is asking for a pin.

sherry_ > yes

Armi > I thank you for taking time to contact us regarding this issue. There is a way that this can be resolved for you however your chat has been routed to my department that supports only Cable service.

Armi > What I will do now is to transfer this chat to our Internet service representatives as they can address this more efficiently. Is that okay with you Sherry?

sherry_ > ok

Armi > It has been my pleasure serving you today Sherry and I truly appreciate your understanding and cooperation at this point. Before I transfer your chat, do you have other concerns for me today? I will be glad to assist you further.

sherry_ > no. i just want into my account.

Armi > Thank you Sherry. Please stay online, transferring you now.

Armi > Have a great day!

Armi > Please wait, while the problem is escalated to another analyst

Rommel > It is a pleasure to have you on chat! Your issue resolution is my top priority for today.

Rommel > I see that you have a problem on loggin in. Is that correct?

sherry_ > i logged in, but it will not let me view my bill until a pin and a secret question are set

Rommel > I apologize for the inconvenience. Rest assured I will do my best to address your concern today. I know how important it is to check your online account !

Rommel > I will be very happy to assist you in this matter Sherry, you have reached the right person !

Rommel > May I please have the full name and address of the account holder.

sherry_ > sherry at XXXXXXXXX (love you all, not posting my address)

Rommel > Thank you very much !

Rommel > Can I get the username you were logging in?

sherry_ > pissed.off.customer@comcast.net (oh, don't i wish that were actually it!)

Rommel > Thank you !

Rommel > Just to check, it was asking for a 4 digit pin, is that correct?

sherry_ > In accordance with FCC regulations, Comcast requires you to enter your Security PIN and create a Security Question and Answer before you proceed. This will only take a few moments. Thank you.

Rommel > Sherry, would it be okay to resert the password so we can update the pin information in your account?

sherry_ > ok

Rommel >

For verification, can I get the the last four digit of the SSN .

sherry_ > XXXX

Rommel > Thank you for the additional information you provided me.

Rommel > Please give me 1-2 minutes to process this. Thank you.

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Rommel > Would it be okay to call you @ (509) 867-5309 to verify some information you shared with us earlier so we can proceed the the password reset and get the security pin ?

sherry_ > no. i'm not at home. i'm at work. why is this so difficult to do? isn't there a link i can click or a page i can go to?

sherry_ > and i was JUST ON a customer service phone call...that didn't work so i tried this. i REALLY do not want to go in another circle.

sherry_ > i just need my bill available.

Rommel > Sherry, the pin was part of your phone service that FCC mandated should be kept and verified when accessing phone service.

Rommel > In the account, the pin has not yet been updated.

sherry_ > why didn't they do that when i signed up for the phone service?

Rommel > To do thid we need to call you to verify information you shared earlier.

sherry_ > WHY DIDN'T THEY DO THAT WHEN I JUST CALLED IN?

Rommel > I apologize but the pin will be given once the phone will be successfully installed.

sherry_ > the phone has been successfully installed for a few weeks now

Rommel > I do apologize but the pin was not activated, since we also need you to call so we can give you the pin number when you call us.

Rommel > But before we do that, we have to call you on your comcast phone for verification.

sherry_ > are you kidding me?

sherry_ > this is fubar. the phone was installed weeks ago. i was JUST ON the phone with a customer service rep.

sherry_ > there is NO reason this should be so difficult

Rommel > Sherry, this is not difficult as long as we can verify you. Another option I can offer is send you the pin by mail since you have verified information on this chat.

Rommel > Then you can use that security pin to log in.

sherry_ > mail will take days. by the time i get home and call in the wait time is forever. I VERIFIED MY INFORMATION ALREADY today. TWICE. this is not acceptable customer service.

Rommel > Sherry, as much I wanted to help you set up the password and pin, there is a procedure that we need to follow.

sherry_ > one that has obviously been screwed up a few times already.

Rommel > Sherry, is there somebody in your home to answer the phone right now ?

sherry_ > no.

sherry_ > i am at work. as i already stated.

Rommel > What I can suggest is give us a chat or call later to verify, then we have the pin updated. We are open 24/7 .

Rommel > Will this be okay with you ?

sherry_ > no that is not okay with me. i don't want to waste MORE of my time chasing my tail in circles on something that should be simple. there is no reason for me to waste my evening on something like this when i have already verified my information TWICE today, and when the initial mistake was on YOUR part not doing this when the phone was installed.

sherry_ > i am the ONLY person listed on the account. and i have have already verified my information twice. i need access to my account immediatly.

Rommel > I do apologize but we would need to verify you on your comcast phone to get the security pin. This is an FCC mandate which comcast strictly adheres to. Not doing this , will have consequences for the provider.

sherry_ > strictly adheres to? then why wasn't it done WEEKS ago? i really don't give a rats ass about your consequences. i need into my account NOW. your screw up should not be my problem.

Rommel > Sherry, I am really sorry but we are unable to get you the security pin without the call to your home. What I can do is note down this issue and have somebody calls you when you arrive home to verify. Just give us the time to call, and we will be happy to do that.

Rommel > No need for you to chat back.

sherry_ > whatever. fine. call around 7.

Rommel > Thank you very much. Again my apologies.

Rommel > Will there be anything else I can help you with for today? I will be happy to extend my time to help you on this matter.

sherry_ > well, i can't get into my account to see if there's anything i need help with...so...

sherry_ > i needed to see if the previous credits to my account went through to see if the balance owing is correct...but since i can't get into my own damn account, i guess i get to wait til later to do that too.

Rommel > Thank you for choosing Comcast as your provider. Comcast appreciates your business and values you as a customer. Our goal is to provide you with excellent service. If you need further assistance, you can chat with one of our Customer Support Specialists 24 hour a day, 7 days a week at http://www.comcastsupport.com/videochat . Have a good day !

HAVE A GOOD DAY? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? FUCK YOU COMCAST.