RSS Feed

Posts Tagged ‘funny’

  1. Should We Outlaw In-Laws?

    February 24, 2014 by Diane

    Women's hands are open the cupboard doors, dark wood

    A friend told me, “Whenever my mother-in-law comes to visit, she rearranges the canned goods in the bloody kitchen cabinets. Every time.” Which, according to my friend, is bloody often.

    Strange behavior, but uncommon, don’t you think?

    Think again.

    My mother told me that a neighbor–we’ll call him Sam–had a visit from his cousin-in-law and the man’s wife. Sam picked up the guests at the train station, shocked by how robust they’d become, and invited them to make themselves at home. Not only did the cousin and wife rearrange the cabinets in the kitchen, they changed the shelves in the refrigerator—they raised one and lowered another and shuffled things around and ate copious amounts of food, and when they complained that there weren’t any mixed nuts or Hostess Ding Dongs, Sam drove to the store to buy some. The in-laws didn’t fork over ONE CENT the whole time they mooched and whined and did their rearranging. And finally, finally, when the household had reached its collective limit, the visitors filched the best of what was left in the pantry: the expensive jar of stuffed olives, the homemade blackberry jam, the Perrier, the Belgian chocolates, and from the back of the freezer the top of the wedding cake…“snacks” for their ride home on the train.

    Should we outlaw in-laws?

    Should we write a law stating that if any member of the family stays for an extended period of time, they must live according to the rules of the household, and not according to what their anxiety demands?

    Or should we accept that these people, who we would normally have nothing to do with if it weren’t for some silly marriage vow, should we accept that these in-laws have a clear case of Squirrels in the Doohickey and use it to our advantage?

    For instance…

    I could use a mother-in-law to clean out my bloody desk. I’ve tried scheduling ten minute increments to rearrange the mess, but the mess seems to multiply and morph, and spill over and under, until I can’t find my feet when I’m typing on my laptop. I need a larger desk. Or a mother-in-law.

    I have a friend who could use a mother-in-law to put his paperwork in order. He could greet her at the door, set her purse on top of his filing cabinets, open one of the overstuffed drawers and let her have at it.

    Do you have a mother-in-law who enjoys being highly opinionated at the dinner table? The next time she opens her mouth, say, “Mother dear, I think I stored the tray for the desserts in the garage. Could you poke your head in and see?” If your garage is anything like the garage where I live, you won’t see her for a week!

    As for the cousins, well…you know how sometimes you forget to clean out the fridge, and there’s questionable stuff growing in Tupperware containers that you’re afraid to open because you have visions of The Exorcist swirling around in your head? Invite the cousins. They’ll clean it out.

    Here’s my advice: When the “stuff” you accumulate starts to take over, invite an in-law for a visit.

    Then kick back and let nature take its course.

     


  2. Scammed

    February 17, 2014 by Diane

    Phone scam

    On Saturday morning the phone rang.

    I was half asleep, or half awake, depending on which end of the day you’re looking at, and since it was morning when the phone rang I’ll say half awake. I lurched for the receiver on the third ring.

    “Hello?” I said.

    I heard a lot of fuzz and a stream of chatter in the background.

    “Hello?” I repeated.

    “Hello? Hello?” came a man’s voice.

    “Hello?”

    “Hello?”

    Well, this could have gone on all morning. I figured it was a bad connection, what with the spit of rain we were having in California, or maybe a wrong number, so I hung up and hung around near the phone eyeing the bed and then crawled back in.

    The phone rang.

    I threw back the covers and swung an arm around and picked it up.

    “Hello?” I said.

    More fuzz, more background noise, and then:

    “Hello? I am calling from Microsoft technical support.”

    The accent was from India, the words clipped, the voice sounded official. I had no doubt the man was calling from Microsoft technical support.

    “Yes?” I said.

    “There is a virus downloading on your computer.”

    “What?!” I sat up.

    “There is a virus downloading on your computer.”

    “I don’t believe you,” I said.

    “Oh, yes, ma’am. You can see with your own eyes.”

    That made sense. I mean, who else’s eyes would I see with?

    “Why are you calling?” I asked, cutting to the chase.

    “You have a virus downloading…”

    “No I don’t.”

    “Yes, ma’am. You can see with your own eyes.”

    I hung up. I was all the way awake now, so I stayed up and started making the bed. I thought about the likelihood that my computer might be downloading a virus at that very moment, when the phone rang.

    “Hello?”

    “Hello? I am calling from Microsoft technical support.”

    “You are not,” I insisted.

    “Oh, yes, ma’am. I am. I am calling from Microsoft technical support.”

    “You’re lying.”

    “No ma’am.”

    I hung up. I refused to believe the calls were anything other than a scam. I got dressed.

    The phone rang. I snatched it up. “Hello?”

    “Hello? I am calling from Microsoft technical support.”

    This was starting to feel like harassment. This was starting to feel like I was being harassed by a man with an Indian accent in a room full of other men with Indian accents who were pretending to be calling from Microsoft technical support.

    “What do you want?”

    “You have a virus—”

    “Microsoft wouldn’t be calling me,” I said.

    “Yes, yes. I am calling from Microsoft technical support.”

    “This is a scam!” I yelled into the phone.

    “No, no, you have a virus.”

    “I’m having this call traced,” I said.

    Silence. He fumbled the phone and then mumbled, “Hang up, ma’am.”

    He was telling ME to hang up.

    We both hung up.

    I turned on my computer and stood back, waiting. It loaded the same desktop, the same screen saver. No virus.

    The phone rang.

    “Hello? I am calling from Microsoft technical support.”

    “You’ve gotta be kidding!”

    I slammed the receiver down.

    I called the police. The non-emergency number. The officer who answered put me on hold long enough so I could work up a good steam, and then he asked me how he could help and I told him I was being harassed by someone claiming to be from Microsoft technical support. I tried to sound cool, but I might have choked on a word or two.

    “Oh, I get those calls too,” he said. “It’s a scam. Don’t give them any information.”

    “That’s what I thought,” I said, puffing out my chest a little. No sucker here. I hung up.

    The phone rang.

    I answered. “Hello?”

    “Hello? I am calling from Microsoft technical support.”

    “This is a scam,” I stated.

    “No, it’s not!” He sounded desperate. “You have a virus—”

    I hesitated before hanging up. It occurred to me that this man might be sincere, that maybe, just maybe, this man had a small family in India, and no means of support, and along came a huckster from America passing out flyers saying that Microsoft was hiring customer service reps to sell a useful product to protect innocent people from vicious malware. Maybe this family man picked up one of the flyers on the street, and hurried to stand in line at some nondescript building, and sat down for an interview, straight-backed, his eyes eager, hands clasped in his lap. Maybe he walked home that afternoon with more bounce in his stride, knowing he could buy food for another month.

    Maybe, just maybe, this man was being scammed too.

    Then again, maybe I was scamming myself by believing this theory.

    I hung up.

    I picked up my keys and headed out the door. The answering machine would listen to his story if he called again.

    So far, he hasn’t.


  3. Thinking Distortion #3: Rejecting the Positive

    February 10, 2014 by Diane

    Distorted thinking

    Here’s the hypothetical…

    You just finished writing a short story for a contest; or a report for your boss; or a school paper on Why Climate Change is Really Really Happening. You barely make the deadline, but you make it.  Then you celebrate. You mentally pat yourself on the back. You buy a double latte, a fudge brownie, maybe some Twinkies. And you settle down to read the copy of what you submitted.

    You cringe.

    You nitpick.

    You bang your head in the palm of your hand and rush out and buy a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy ice cream and devour it with a spoon.

    I’m a failure, you moan between mouthfuls.

    Hold on.

    That’s jumping ahead in the list of thinking distortions, to number seven: name-calling.

    Let’s stick to one distortion at a time.

    You handed it in, right? You spent five, ten, forty hours rewriting the darn thing. You did the best you could with the knowledge and experience that you currently have.

    So put down the spoon.

    Stop reading the copy.

    Take a walk.

    And when your mother or your boss or your teacher congratulates you—well done! Great job! You did it!–when you get a high-five and a thumbs-up and an A-plus don’t say…yeah, but it could have been perfect. So-and-so would have done it better.

    That’s thinking distortion number three: Rejecting the Positive.

    And number six: Expecting Perfection.

    And number eleven: Comparing Worth.

    And…well, be mindful of the games your mind can play.