In large part, I try to make this blog something people want to read. And that's by design. Who wants to invest time reading something uninteresting and humorless? I sure as hell don't. But more than embedded youtube videos, hyperlinks, and relentless satire, this simple square of cyberspace follows the thoughts and actions of an average person.
An average person has tasks, expectations, plans, inadequacies, hopes, dreams, and deficiencies. An average person eats, sleeps, loves, laughs, and occasionally locks their keys in the apartment.
An average person waxes, works, and wanes throughout seventy-something years of lucidity book-ended by eternal nothingness.
But there's a problem with all of this: I don't want to be average. I never, ever have. My first grade classroom had these interconnectable plastic bears you could join to form chains. Guess whose had to be the longest. In third grade I insisted upon working my tail off so I could move on to the fourth grade math book a year early. I took up acting during my early teenage years and went on film and television auditions to try and become somehow notable. In college, I started off as a music and journalism major but changed to business because investment banking provided exceptional prestige and income. It had nothing to do with interest. Who knows, maybe my transatlantic foray for grad school was motivated by the same factor...international experience is viewed as exotic and uncommon in culturally ignorant America.
Right now, I'm honestly in the throws of a quarter-life crisis. I'm unable to find the motivation to do any school work because it all seems so theoretical and impractical. I don't feel like learning how to map bond payments into principal components is worthwhile, and I feel like the only value at risk is my happiness. My GPA is suffering because of it, so much so that I learned today I likely won't be making it to New Zealand. I need a 7 to go abroad and will probably wind up with a 6.75. I got my grade back on a paper and scored the class average in a class full of non-native English speakers. This highlights another dissatisfaction I have with my current educational choice: I don't necessary feel like effort and input, when applied, correlate with success.
There are other compounding variables I'll discuss ambiguously. I invested a weekend and a plane ticket discovering that someone I thought may be truly exceptional is, in fact, flawed. Furthermore, a current cornerstone in my support system crumbled due to the weight of itself, and that's just tragic. There is a mutually advantageous solution but it's as complicated as neurosurgery and trying to operate would likely kill the patient. It's an awful paradox.
Most of the posts here are supposed to be things people would want to read. This was just something I wanted to write, something I needed to express. I feel aimless, passionless, and mired in mirthless mediocrity. I have no idea what to do with my life, no idea where I want to spend it or with whom. But I do want it to be extraordinary. I don't want to work a 9-5 job with a suburban house, a wife, a cat, a dog, and 2.4 kids. I just know I want to be happy, and I know that right now, I'm not.
Tuesday
Wednesday
danish kortship
Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, please help me welcome our interlocutor for this special question-and-answer session of Ben's Blog: the Visa Dankort! (Applause, please)
The Visa Dankort (henceforth VD) has agreed to join us today to promote himself and discuss current and future projects, including the magic and convenience he's spreading all across Denmark. For those of you not joining us live in the studio, a transcription of the session is provided below and followed by a brief biography of our special guest.
BB: So, what exactly are you?
VD: Great question. I'm a plastic-based proprietary financial instrument imbued with an electronic chip and magnetic stripe. I'm frequently called "the national card of Denmark" and I'm the only access the country has to short-term revolving credit. All of my impersonators are mere debit cards. I, on the other hand, give you 2-3 days before posting to your account to ensure you have sufficient funds to cover your purchases. It's fantastic. Within the country, you use my Dankort feature, and rely on the Visa for backup internationally.
BB: In the US we have a "swipe and sign" system that allows practically anyone the freedom to buy normally and pay for all purchases together at the end of the month. What's special about you?
VD: Several things, actually. I'm freedom, access and exclusivity. Being half Dankort, half Visa, I can be of service anywhere in Denmark, or throughout the rest of the world. All of the Danes have me, and I'm almost like a membership card to the culture club. Best of all, I play hard to get, so people feel privileged and empowered to actually have me. Some would call me a credit card...but that's like calling Leonardo da Vinci a moderately successful inventor.
BB: Well. What would we do without you VD?
VD: Another very good question, and I actually don't know the answer. I'm the exclusive payment method all over Denmark and was used over 676 million times in 2006 alone. Yes, people still use cash, but fees for withdrawing money from ATMs make me the preferred choice. The buy now/pay later system used in the US isn't accepted here, and I'm simply the most convenient way to buy.
BB: You speak well for yourself, how can I acquire you?
VD: I'm so glad you asked, the procedure is quite simple. Set up an account at your local bank and wait roughly 8 months. After that, you can request a review and, provided you've had consistent, generous cash inflows, you may be awarded a card.
BB: VD, you rascal...always the kidder. How do we really go about getting you?
VD: No, no. I'm serious.
BB: Ok, wait. Let me recap a few facts, and correct me if I'm wrong here. Other than cash, you're often the only form of payment accepted anywhere in the country.
VD: That's correct, yes.
BB: And your credit window is 2-3 days before the money is automatically debited from one's account.
VD: Also correct.
BB: There's no credit feature here, you're not lending your users any money?
VD: Right.
BB: But we have to wait 8 months and pass stringent income requirements to acquire you?
VD: Well, yes.
BB:So what do people do in the meantime? I mean, a simple meal for 2 at a Danish restaurant often costs in excess of 500 kr ($100). Who carries that much cash around with them?
VD: Well, I mean, I have to be exclusive and whatnot...you know what? No. I'm not doing this. I see right through your gimmick, Ben's Blog. You wanted to start this thing off as a warm and fuzzy informative about an important facet of Danish culture and watch it devolve into bickering as you illustrate your preconceived inadequacies with the system. I'm not having it. I'm not participating.
BB: I'm just trying to provide an objective view for our readers. Here, let's go with a real-world example. Actually, let's make it a fill-in-the-blank. I recently went to Taco Shop and was unable to pay because they only accepted you and I didn't have enough cash. As VD, that makes you feel...
VD: Done. Interview over.
BB: Goodness, I thought for sure he'd be better at accepting charges...
The Visa-Dankort was born in Copenhagen in September, 1983 to a single parent, Pengeinstitutternes Købe- og Kreditkort. His upbringing was a rather rough one, landing him in and out of court as a juvenile for displaying monopolistic tendencies. Finally, as he reached his 18th birthday, the government deemed him old enough to become his own company, Dankort A/S, as the outcome of antitrust legislation. As a 21st birthday present, he was imprinted with a special "chip." Though the company deemed it a security upgrade, the move was clearly designed to appease the high-fashion taste of Danes who would prefer to stylishly stick their card into a reader rather than swipe it. A current working professional, Visa-Dankort makes his money by charging businesses a flat fee based on the number of monthly transactions. His success is entirely attributed to his consumer appeal and relies upon blackmail to force store acceptance. In the future, Visa-Dankort intends to lobby for the illegalization of physical currency and all other payment methods for the sole sake of customer convenience.
The Visa Dankort (henceforth VD) has agreed to join us today to promote himself and discuss current and future projects, including the magic and convenience he's spreading all across Denmark. For those of you not joining us live in the studio, a transcription of the session is provided below and followed by a brief biography of our special guest.
BB: So, what exactly are you?
VD: Great question. I'm a plastic-based proprietary financial instrument imbued with an electronic chip and magnetic stripe. I'm frequently called "the national card of Denmark" and I'm the only access the country has to short-term revolving credit. All of my impersonators are mere debit cards. I, on the other hand, give you 2-3 days before posting to your account to ensure you have sufficient funds to cover your purchases. It's fantastic. Within the country, you use my Dankort feature, and rely on the Visa for backup internationally.
BB: In the US we have a "swipe and sign" system that allows practically anyone the freedom to buy normally and pay for all purchases together at the end of the month. What's special about you?
VD: Several things, actually. I'm freedom, access and exclusivity. Being half Dankort, half Visa, I can be of service anywhere in Denmark, or throughout the rest of the world. All of the Danes have me, and I'm almost like a membership card to the culture club. Best of all, I play hard to get, so people feel privileged and empowered to actually have me. Some would call me a credit card...but that's like calling Leonardo da Vinci a moderately successful inventor.
BB: Well. What would we do without you VD?
VD: Another very good question, and I actually don't know the answer. I'm the exclusive payment method all over Denmark and was used over 676 million times in 2006 alone. Yes, people still use cash, but fees for withdrawing money from ATMs make me the preferred choice. The buy now/pay later system used in the US isn't accepted here, and I'm simply the most convenient way to buy.
BB: You speak well for yourself, how can I acquire you?
VD: I'm so glad you asked, the procedure is quite simple. Set up an account at your local bank and wait roughly 8 months. After that, you can request a review and, provided you've had consistent, generous cash inflows, you may be awarded a card.
BB: VD, you rascal...always the kidder. How do we really go about getting you?
VD: No, no. I'm serious.
BB: Ok, wait. Let me recap a few facts, and correct me if I'm wrong here. Other than cash, you're often the only form of payment accepted anywhere in the country.
VD: That's correct, yes.
BB: And your credit window is 2-3 days before the money is automatically debited from one's account.
VD: Also correct.
BB: There's no credit feature here, you're not lending your users any money?
VD: Right.
BB: But we have to wait 8 months and pass stringent income requirements to acquire you?
VD: Well, yes.
BB:So what do people do in the meantime? I mean, a simple meal for 2 at a Danish restaurant often costs in excess of 500 kr ($100). Who carries that much cash around with them?
VD: Well, I mean, I have to be exclusive and whatnot...you know what? No. I'm not doing this. I see right through your gimmick, Ben's Blog. You wanted to start this thing off as a warm and fuzzy informative about an important facet of Danish culture and watch it devolve into bickering as you illustrate your preconceived inadequacies with the system. I'm not having it. I'm not participating.
BB: I'm just trying to provide an objective view for our readers. Here, let's go with a real-world example. Actually, let's make it a fill-in-the-blank. I recently went to Taco Shop and was unable to pay because they only accepted you and I didn't have enough cash. As VD, that makes you feel...
VD: Done. Interview over.
BB: Goodness, I thought for sure he'd be better at accepting charges...
Biography
The Visa-Dankort was born in Copenhagen in September, 1983 to a single parent, Pengeinstitutternes Købe- og Kreditkort. His upbringing was a rather rough one, landing him in and out of court as a juvenile for displaying monopolistic tendencies. Finally, as he reached his 18th birthday, the government deemed him old enough to become his own company, Dankort A/S, as the outcome of antitrust legislation. As a 21st birthday present, he was imprinted with a special "chip." Though the company deemed it a security upgrade, the move was clearly designed to appease the high-fashion taste of Danes who would prefer to stylishly stick their card into a reader rather than swipe it. A current working professional, Visa-Dankort makes his money by charging businesses a flat fee based on the number of monthly transactions. His success is entirely attributed to his consumer appeal and relies upon blackmail to force store acceptance. In the future, Visa-Dankort intends to lobby for the illegalization of physical currency and all other payment methods for the sole sake of customer convenience.
you had a bad day
In honor of my recent gaffe, I've scoured the internets and found what I consider to be a top-5 list of people having days far worse than mine. Forgetting the keys is a major inconvenience, but at least I didn't:
5. Fall prey to anything
4. Lose my job
3. Crash my car
2. Endanger my offspring
1. Lose my head
5. Fall prey to anything
4. Lose my job
3. Crash my car
2. Endanger my offspring
1. Lose my head
remembering is key
I was finished with my last major milestone until mid-April. The FMI retake (see the "FMI? FML" post for a more thorough assessment of that class) had gone over horribly, but the despair was tempered with giddiness at the prospect of an open schedule. The weekend was wide open, and I wanted nothing more than to marinate in the tender juices of relaxation.
Friday night the social chairman of our study program had arranged a large party that turned out to be horribly ironic. The theme was "dress inappropriately," and I'm convinced that he who conceived this concoction failed to take into account that the program contains 130ish people: 100 guys and 30 girls whose boyfriends wouldn't approve of the theme. This same master planner forgot to notify the bouncers that our group's attire wouldn't quite meet their club's standards. The result? Everyone who dressed inappropriately was not allowed inside the "dress inappropriately" party.
This perfectly illustrates the overarching theme of this post: sometimes people do dumb things. Saturday morning I collected all the empty bottles from our apartment and proceeded the 50 feet to the supermarket to reclaim their deposit value. As soon as the door closed behind me, however, I came to an interesting realization. My keys were on my dresser. Next to them were my credit cards, and slightly above those was my cell phone. My roommate was in Prague until Monday night, and it slowly dawned on me that I was totally and completely screwed. I borrowed a neighbor's phone and called a locksmith, who said he'd be delighted to help for $140. I politely told him where he could shove that exorbitant sum.
I owe a debt of gratitude to the residents of the Svanevej dorm for hosting me the next two nights, but despite having a place to sleep, I had no change of clothes and gradually became saturated in an intoxicating glaze of eau de eww. My apologies to whoever encountered me over that 56 hour period. In was an unfortunate turn to an otherwise glorious weekend, but taught be a valuable lesson: in the game of life, remembering is key.
Friday night the social chairman of our study program had arranged a large party that turned out to be horribly ironic. The theme was "dress inappropriately," and I'm convinced that he who conceived this concoction failed to take into account that the program contains 130ish people: 100 guys and 30 girls whose boyfriends wouldn't approve of the theme. This same master planner forgot to notify the bouncers that our group's attire wouldn't quite meet their club's standards. The result? Everyone who dressed inappropriately was not allowed inside the "dress inappropriately" party.
This perfectly illustrates the overarching theme of this post: sometimes people do dumb things. Saturday morning I collected all the empty bottles from our apartment and proceeded the 50 feet to the supermarket to reclaim their deposit value. As soon as the door closed behind me, however, I came to an interesting realization. My keys were on my dresser. Next to them were my credit cards, and slightly above those was my cell phone. My roommate was in Prague until Monday night, and it slowly dawned on me that I was totally and completely screwed. I borrowed a neighbor's phone and called a locksmith, who said he'd be delighted to help for $140. I politely told him where he could shove that exorbitant sum.
I owe a debt of gratitude to the residents of the Svanevej dorm for hosting me the next two nights, but despite having a place to sleep, I had no change of clothes and gradually became saturated in an intoxicating glaze of eau de eww. My apologies to whoever encountered me over that 56 hour period. In was an unfortunate turn to an otherwise glorious weekend, but taught be a valuable lesson: in the game of life, remembering is key.
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