This was a letter I wrote to my dad that someone at his church asked me to write for a spiritual journey type thing he went on.

Sometimes, life can really suck. When you’re a kid, responsibility is for adults, and even though you so desperately want to be able to stay out late or make your own decisions about where you go and what you do, you don’t really understand that you can’t have the good times without the bad. The first time that this revelation hit me, I panicked. I wanted to run away from responsibility and never look back. I would have given anything to be a little kid again – to live in blissful ignorance of how the world really worked. I thought if I just wished hard enough, that I would wake up the next morning in my bunk bed with my mom trying to rush me to get ready for school, the biggest thing on my mind being how I would annoy the girl in my class that I liked.

To most little kids, life is like a journey. Every week you can change your mind and decide you don’t want to be an astronaut anymore because you’ve decided that a career in race car driving would be more fun. People tell you that it’s okay, because you can grow up to be anything you want to be, and it’s true – just think about president Obama and the kind of life he had growing up. Some kids start to figure out what they want to do with their life in high school, and by the time they get to college they’ve got a major picked out. Sure, they may change majors a couple times, but it’s usually something else they just didn’t know they were interested in.

Then there are kids like me. Since the 4th grade, I wanted to be a musician. Even if I hardly ever practiced, playing cello was the one thing that could really make me happy. Throughout middle school and the beginnings of high school, I picked up new instruments left and right. Some people told me I had a natural talent for stringed instruments, and I could think of nothing more than playing music for the rest of my life.

Then I discovered how wonderful a resource the Internet could be, and I would spend hours every day reading about all sorts of things and learning as much as I could about the world around me. All of these things that I read and learned about were new and exciting to me, and I wasn’t quite sure that I wanted to be a musician anymore.

Every day now, I grow further and further from knowing what I want to do with my life. It’s not that I can’t find anything I’m interested in or don’t have the opportunity to explore. The truth is, I want to do it all. I want to travel the world learning how languages work. I can think of nothing better than exploring the depths of the ocean or discovering new life on Mars. This is how it hit me.

The first time I really thought hard about things and how I couldn’t truly be a Renaissance Man in this day and age was the first time I felt truly insignificant in the grand scheme of things. I’m talking just-been-thrown-into-the-Total-Perspective-Vortex from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy insignificant. I (an 18 year old boy at the time) called my mother, and at the points in time when I could stop crying enough to talk intelligibly, asked her to tell me that everything was going to be okay, and then talked to my dad for a few minutes before I felt a little better. I usually don’t think about talking to my dad in emotional situations, because my experience with guys has been that they’ll listen to your stories, but usually can’t offer much in the way of advice.

Later that day, I got a text message from my dad that changed my life. It told me exactly what I needed to hear at the time to know that everything was going to be okay. I thought about his life and about how when his old bosses wanted him to change jobs to something he had no interest in doing, he decided it was time for something new. I realized that even if I end up not enjoying a job as much as I’d like to, there will always be a time when I can say, “I’m ready for a change.”

Now when the bad days come, I just try to remember that life can really suck sometimes, but it’s just a part of growing up. My dad showed me what they don’t tell little kids – that once you do finally pick something, you don’t necessarily have to stick with it for the rest of your life if you just can’t do it anymore, and that’s okay too.

Thank you dad. I may not like to say this (cause it’s not very manly), but I love you.

Everybody knows
It sucks to grow up
And everybody does
It’s so weird to be back here.
Let me tell you what
The years go on and
We’re still fighting it, we’re still fighting it

Ben Folds – Still Fighting It

On March 5th, I received four rather alarming e-mails. They were receipts from the iTunes store from earlier that day at a point in time during which I was in bed and asleep. These purchases totaled $500 worth of gift cards, which upon viewing in the iTunes Store history all seemed to have a message along the lines of, “Andrew, for me, Andrew.”

By now, I’m freaking out, because I don’t even have $500 in my bank account at this point in time. I immediately go to PayPal and file a report to them that I’ve had four unapproved charges to my account that I would like to dispute, as well as change my passwords and security questions on both iTunes and PayPal. Next, I run virus scans and clear browser history on every computer I own, plus my iPhone to check for spyware and such (resulting in no spyware per say, but some apparently interesting cookies). Because the charges were made early enough in the day and were marked for immediate withdrawal on PayPal, I assumed that when my bank account still hadn’t taken a hit that PayPal was starting to do something about it, so foolishly I didn’t call my bank and tell them what’s going on yet.

On March 6th, I check my bank account balance. -$260. Ohhh craaap. First things first, I transfer enough money from my savings to cover the negative balance in my checking (I now have some change in my checking, and a few bucks in my savings). I shoot an e-mail to iTunes telling them what’s up and ask what I should do and how they can help me, and then I call my bank’s fraud department, who tells me I should wait until after PayPal investigates the case, and if PayPal doesn’t refund my money, I should call them back (something about lots of paperwork being involved and it being easier to see if PayPal fixes it first).

On March 7th, I get an e-mail back from iTunes. What follows is the relevant information, plus they said the obvious: change your account password and security questions.

I urge you to contact your financial institution as soon as possible to inquire about canceling the card or account and removing the unauthorized transactions. You should also ask them to launch an investigation into the security of your account. Your bank or credit card company’s fraud department should then contact the iTunes Store to resolve this issue. The iTunes Store cannot reverse the charges.

Right. This e-mail, plus a blog post by Chris Pirillo that I read while searching for information about my situation on Google made me think that filing claims with PayPal was pretty much NOT the way to go if you ever wanted a chance of getting your money back, though at the request of my bank, I waited to hear back from PayPal before calling them again.

On March 12th at 4:42 am, I received an e-mail from PayPal which said the following:

We have completed our investigation of your claim and have determined that
this is not an instance of unauthorized account activity. At this time,
your claim has been denied.

Okay, freeze. Let’s think logically for a second and look at what PayPal and iTunes are claiming I did.

• They assume I purchased FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS worth of gift cards in FOUR SEPARATE TRANSACTIONS. The $500 worth of gift cards doesn’t really seem like something someone would do, but for the sake of the argument, lets assume people do that all the time, and do it in four separate transactions to be sent to (what I’m assuming) was the same e-mail address.
  
  Factoid: When looking at your purchase history, you can’t see the e-mail address that the gift card redemption link was delivered too.
  
• The content of the “to, from, and message” fields on the gift card’s picture imply that not only did I purchase $500 worth of gift cards on iTunes, but I sent them to MYSELF.
  
  Factoid: as this Washington Post article states in an update, since the beginning of March 2009, “the [Internet Crime Complaint Center] has received a total of nine complaints about credit card fraud related to unauthorized purchases on iTunes” for charges as much as $1,600.
  
• Finally, PayPal and iTunes assume that I reported my own transactions as fraudulent no less than 5 hours after I made the purchases, including many e-mails and even a couple phone calls to PayPal to make sure the fraudulent charge claims went through.
  
  Factoid: The Watchmen is a fantastic movie, and I think it’s a shame if you haven’t seen it (I ran out of related facts).
  

So here we are. It’s March 12th, and I have just woken up to some bad news, which only gets worse when I look at my bank account, and despite the fact that I put money in the account the same day it dropped into the red via an IMMEDIATE online transfer, I have overdraft fees (putting it firmly BACK in the red). My parents, worried about me and my utter lack of money, write my a check for $400, which I take to the bank and ask to talk to someone about what I can do.

The people at my bank are very nice. I showed up about the same time they were going to have the lobby closed, and despite the long line to talk to a customer service representative, they let me in and even offered me candy and coffee. When my turn came to talk to someone, I explained to them my situation, and they gave me a phone number to call. They also told me that despite my negative account balance, the fact that I needed money to buy food and pay utilities meant that I would be much better off going to my parent’s bank and cashing the check (the check funds would have been put on hold for what she said could be up to two weeks).

Now here I am. It’s 7am on March 16th, I’ve got a bit of cash on hand, and my bank’s fraud department has what they called, “a large stack of papers” in the mail for me to fill out, sign, and return in order to take some sort of legal action (I think) to get back my money.

If I learned anything from this ordeal, it’s this:

• If at ALL possible, avoid using PayPal. They have horrendous customer service, and will do anything to place the blame on someone else.
• If you’re going to make online purchases (something I do A LOT), credit card gift cards from grocery stores are the safest way to go, and some banks even offer features like a separate account thingy for online transactions that you can set up with purchase limits, time frames, and even a disposable account number.
• Don’t make online purchases just to skip out on sales tax. That sales tax going to your local government helps pay for roads, parks, and lots of other things that communities need to thrive.
• Finally, if there’s a local music store nearby, don’t be too lazy to go there to get your music. The best thing you can do for the economy in times like these is buy local and support small businesses.

Thank you all for your moral (and financial) support while I try to get through this mess. I couldn’t do it without you guys.

**EDIT**

After filling out the large stack of papers from my bank and faxing them in, the money was returned to my account and I soon got a letter from them telling me what they had repaid me. I also tried to update applications on my iPhone, which gave the message that my account had been disabled, but a quick email to iTunes customer support explaining what had happened got me access to my account again within 24 hours.

After a long hard night of grocery shopping, Dollhouse watching, and beer brewing, Krythe and I returned to the apartment. Around 1:00 am, Krythe recalled that it was now officially Pi Day, and we decided to go to House of Pies at 3:14 am to celebrate with pancakes, coffee, and most importantly of all, pie.

When we got there, the place was packed. It was probably the busiest I’ve ever seen a restaurant at three in the morning, and it was pretty diverse, too. Cops and stoners, cowboys and urbanites, teachers and students. Pi day couldn’t be THAT popular, could it? Probably not. The clubs just closed, the drunks were done driving, those 3:00 am munchies were hitting, and the rodeo was in town.

After a minute or two, we got a table in the smaller side room near what turned out to not be a pretty average group of five (the outspoken Mac geek, the socially irrepressible and obnoxious guy, the tell-it-like-it-is blonde, the possibly drunk flirtatious extrovert, and of course, the token black man). When we first sat down, they were talking about something I can’t recall, other than that I wouldn’t repeat it if I remembered.

They were fairly entertaining, and so Krythe and I didn’t really talk much for a while, aside from ordering pancakes, drinks, and pie. That’s when it happened. I accidentally made eye contact with the obnoxious one, and he drug is in in that awkward way that loud obnoxious strangers do when they notice you paying attention to them.

Now the flirtatious extrovert turns around and starts talking to us, even though the Mac geek doesn’t seem too happy about it. Mostly harmless stuff, like what we do, where we go to school. She starts laughing in an “oh crap” kind of way. She teaches at one of the local colleges. Interesting. She asks me what I want to do when I “grow up” and I mention that I’m interested in wine making and beer brewing. Something about Saint Arnold’s brewery comes up, and then she asks the question of the night: how old are you?

Now she’s embarrassed. After turning red and turning around, the group starts talking about me and how I’m like, “14 years old” (which isn’t true for those who don’t know me). Krythe and I eat our food, and I ignore requests from the obnoxious guy to, “whip it out so we can measure it”, because apparently if it’s big and I’m young it shouldn’t matter.

As the group is leaving, the flirtatious extrovert turns around again, looks at Krythe, and says, “make him grow up!” before grabbing onto the unhappy looking Mac geek and walking out the door. We soon got our pies, took one bite each, and admitted defeat at the hands of our food.

As we left the still packed bubble of diversity, I wondered to myself if the flirtatious extrovert would wake up in the morning and think, “oh, crap, what did I do last night”, or would she remember that young guy she mistakenly hit on? Could it ever be – a teacher and me? Extremely unlikely.

Too bad. She was cute.

Some of you may be wondering why I built a dinosaur out of cardboard. For those of you willing to just accept it for what it is, I thank you. The rest of you will probably never see the fun in it, and I’m sorry.

The first time I saw a cardboard dinosaur, I knew I would build one on my own some day. I don’t remember the name of the guy who did it, but it was built at an event called First Night Pikes Peak in Colorado Springs some time between 1998 and 2000. I don’t have any pictures of his, but I can assure you it was more impressive than mine, towering inside one of the downtown YMCA’s gyms.

The method for building this beast is quite simple, and I may have over done it a bit with the PVC pipe and duct tape (though to get it to stand up if it’s floppy, it is necessary to use some sort of stabilizing device, like hanging it from the ceiling). Because the PVC pipe “base skeleton” was all built with trial and error, and there’s no real right way to support it, I’m not including that in the instructions.

Andrew’s Five Steps to Dinosaur Building

1. Buy a small wooden skeleton set that you would like to make life size or larger.

   

2. Go dumpster diving for large sheets of cardboard. Or if you don’t feel comfortable swimming in trash on a hot summer day, you could try asking stores that sell refrigerators and other large objects for boxes, or even looking for free boxes on the free section of craigslist.

3. Acquire an overhead projector, or build something similar. I got lucky because my mom is a teacher, and the principal said we could borrow it for the afternoon.

4. Once you’ve marked where your projector is placed to prevent movement and scale changes, attach your cardboard to the wall, project your pieces onto it, and trace their shadows with markers. Also, find some way to label your pieces, because I forgot to, and I don’t think the ribs and vertebrae made it to their proper places.

   

5. Cut them out and assemble! Note that cutting shapes out of cardboard with a box cutter isn’t fun, so if you have a skill saw or something, this is a good time to get it out (and maybe even build the dinosaur out of wood)!

   

Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of a giant cardboard dinosaur. It’s up to you to decide how best to put it to use. Mine made stops at a few parties as a decoration before it went to the warehouse in the office I work at. If you build your own, I’d like to hear about it. Also, I’m not responsible if you injure yourself somehow in the process of cutting cardboard or jumping into dumpsters. Thanks.