Tag Archives: humor

Stress.Body Scans Gone Wild!

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Dateline: North Austin Medical Center. Cough and Wheeze Section.

As an effort to lend a bit of joy to the Season while I attempt to return to the land of the breathing, I’m running a series from last year explaining how to make extra money.

As you can imagine, if you read part one of the Body Scan manual, I am buried in demand for my products.  At long last, I’m going to be rich.  People will notice me.  No one will cross me. I will have achieved the American Dream.

What’s that you say?  The American Dream is more than buying expensive stuff?  Oh, no…..You’re saying those of us not so steady in the emotional maturity department would try to BUY our way out of anxiety?  Ridiculous.  What’da ya think?  Black or tan leather in the BMW?

In Progress….Turn Body Scans into Fortunes!

Reduce Stress Instantly, The Flying Lawn Chair Incident

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Stress. The Flying Lawn Chair Incident. How to Save Time Instantly.

Dateline: DFW Airport International Branch Headquarters, chair in the corner, face to the wall.

First, I’d like to apologize to those unfortunate passengers on flights with me this weekend. If you are thinking, “Maybe I was on a plane with her and I didn’t know it,” you were not. If you recall a short blond woman, her agonized face mashed into the window, who seemed determined to cough up her lungs, or heard one side of the 737 you were in crackle and thunder, just maybe you were. I’m very, very sorry.

Want to save yourself a lot of stress and lower your personal “annoying-to-others” score? It’s really not that tough. Technically. Technically, like jumping rope for five minutes a day can change your life—technically.

To save time and stress, all you have to do is pass out a little permission and decide:

Other people get to do what they do. They do not require my agreement. My opinion is not important, nor does it make any sense for me to insist on telling people what I think of what other people do. To comment takes time and it’s annoying, except to those very few godlike beings who agree with everything I think about people who aren’t like us. Okay, enough with the sermon.

The following account is true. A retired weatherman had an idea how he could make use of several weather balloons cluttering up his garage and change the face of aviation as we know it. First he tied four balloons to an aluminum and plastic weave lawn chair. Next he strapped himself in. Then he popped the launch cords on the balloons. Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . LIFT OFF!

Yeah, baby. We are flying now. Mostly we are tumbling end-over-end through the first ten thousand feet. “Oh, what a beautiful blue sky–whoa, there’s my house! Oh, what a beautiful blue sky–whoa, there’s Chicago!” The view went from spectacular to, well, nauseating. But the Man Who Launched His Lawn Chair (MWLLC) was having a ball. Airport radars spotted an unidentified blip on their radar screens. News syndicates were alerted. Planes were diverted. Non-believers were converted. (Sorry, like the MWLLC, I couldn’t stop myself.)

The MWLLC’s wife wrung her hands, though when reporters asked her if she was surprised at her husband’s antics, she admitted such projects on slow summer afternoons were nothing new for her husband. She also admitted the MWLLC had stopped telling her his plans since she’d taken to calling the police and asking the procedures for getting a spouse committed.

What’s the point of this tale? As you read, did any part of you think…What kind of crazy person does something like that?

To instantly reduce stress, let go and let other people have fun. Enjoy their enjoying. You’d think we’d all be savvy on this strategy, but such is not the case. At least not for me and, unless you are Dr. L from the radio who makes no wrong moves, like me, you fall into the boring trap of questioning why other people enjoy activities and possessions you do not. And, if you are like me, when you ask this question, your tone informs listeners that, unlike myself, people are crazy and not as wise as I am if they:

Get up at 2 a.m. on Black Friday. Deep fry their turkey. Don’t deep fry their turkey. Salt their food before tasting it. Buy expensive cars. Spank their kids. Don’t spank their kids. Put up an artificial tree. Spend a day finding a real tree. Watch that stupid television show. Enjoy mincemeat pie. Watch NASCAR, golf, basketball, baseball, fake-real television families, or prison shows. Try to buy love by giving expensive Christmas presents. Are too cheap to give expensive Christmas presents. Are foolish enough to take out a second mortgage to send their child to private college. Are selfish enough to refuse to take out a second mortgage to send their child to private college.

You’ve got the picture. I know. Ouch. Ouch. Guilty. Guilty. One of the elements of psychology that continuously amazes me is how hard and complicated something as simple as enjoying the moment really is.

About the promised Triple Stuffed Turkey Recipe? Next year when I can breathe like a normal person again. Coming: Unique Gifts Only You Can Give.

Stress, Addiction, Humility, and the “Stolen Identity Incident”

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Stress, Addiction, and the “Stolen Identity Incident”

Dateline: San Antonio River Walk International Branch Office. One block over, on March 6, 1836, all the well-armed and well-dressed Mexicans in the world, stormed the Alamo killing everyone inside.  Newspapers in the weeks following ran stories encouraging settlers to “Come on down!” As one of those news articles in the Texas State Library says, “Texas is still a great opportunity for you and your family. The report claiming that the men in the Alamo were killed is a false rumor, propaganda sent out by politicians.”  Sigh. Things haven’t changed much.

In thinking about stress management and addiction, I realized it was time for the periodic pledge, the pledge that can eliminate loads of stress right off the top.

The pledge: I can be as big an idiot as anyone else. Even as big an idiot as the people I’m calling idiots. Whew. What a relief not to have to go through the world upset when people don’t do things the way I do, or more honestly, the way I think they should do them.

My special person and I were married in Mexico City and before you pull up lofty visions of the “destination” weddings where the couple or parents rent a hotel for a weekend and fly in two hundred of their closest friends to Paris or Tahiti, the event included the Registro Civil, the two of us, and the taxi driver as a witness.  He was a graduate student and I was a college junior though not the typical age of that group due to several spectacular detours.

In other words. We had no money. Before our big adventure,we embraced our American citizenship and took out a Mastercard. The trip was great, Acapulco, villages, historicalcities. A good time was had by all. The trouble started when we received our Mastercard bill which was a huge amount way beyond our own frugal spending.Clearly, the credit card number had been stolen and whoever took it charged everythingin sight knowing once they were caught the party was over.

Incensed, we marched down to the bank issuing the card and met with the head of the fraud department who was very sympathetic and assured us the bank would help find the culprit. All we had to do was sit down at the computer screen and review the charges marking the ones we did not make. Much relieved we set to work. Thirty minutes later we waited until the fraud director was away from her desk, then we ducked our heads and sneaked quietly to the elevator and out of there.

Repeat after me: “I can be as big an idiot…”

For those who honestly believe they are not subject to all the craziness of being human, there’s always Dr.Laura who knows all.

For me, it’s a comfort to recognize we’re all nuts.

Stress, So You Think Crashing One Wedding Was Rude?

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Stress, Runaway Pooch Crashes Five Star Wedding !

Dateline: Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. Although the Sea of Cortez bears his name, it was not Hernan Cortez, but his navigator, who is credited with discovering Cabo San Lucas in 1537. Cabo San Lucas and Cabo San Jose soon became a busy stopovers for pirates.

What’s the Difference Between…Breaking Out of “Group Think Stress” and Just Being Annoying?  The trick is considering other people without over-considering them. 

Is the guy who insists on mowing the lawn in his birthday suit a free thinker or an unpleasant surprise?  Is the guy who refuses to shut down his cell phone and therefore prevents the flight from taking off…merely side-stepping ‘group think’?

And that woman in the bathing suit and the towel on her head that crashed the black-tie wedding reception? 

Dateline:  Dallas, Texas. Lincoln Center Hilton.

Finishing a swim, I’d taken Shrinker, our ancient, crippled shih tzu down for a stumble in the grass around the big fancy pool at the big fancy hotel hoping for a productive result.  I didn’t need a leash as Shrinker was as slow as certain relatives are reaching for their wallets.  Since her stroke, she’ambled sort of sideways making about a yard a minute. The pool grass part hadn’t been totally successful, but as we had group dinner plans, I was in a bit of a rush to get dressed. I carried the old sweetie to the bank of elevators in the center of the lobby and set her down to punch the button.  The left side of the main hall opened into a ballroom from which orchestra music and wonderful food smells wafted. At the far side of the ballroom the bride and groom were behind a magnificent candle laden table making a toast.

Which is when it happened.  When the formerly snail-paced Shrinker Dog caught the smell of sizzling steak. She shot from my between my ankles and into the ballroom going all-out, knowing when I caught up with her, all hope of garnering steak was gone.

What did I do?  What could I do?  I centered my flip-flops, re-wrapped the too-large towel around my dripping head, and flung my bathing-suited self into the party. Stroke or no stroke, sweet babe was all woman when it came to food. She rocketed in her side-ways gait across the dance floor scattering guests. Then she dove under the covered white table leaving me stupidity flopping around trying to find her. Sophisticated people glared, candles were grabbed, I heard lenses come off video cameras.  I pretended I was having an instant onset of a serious mental disorder characterized by babbling.  I kept my head down as I flushed out the Shrinker dog who bounded away and tacked her way back across the dance floor…leaving little presents, quickly picked up by men in tuxedos. Thus, a couple of good things came out of the event.  My trip down to the grass was successful after all and, having kept my head down, I’d managed to stay anonymous.

Waiting for the elevator when we returned with friends around midnight, a well-dressed man and woman sidled up. At first the man looked confused.  Then not so much.  “I know you!” he said, pointing a knowing and sophisticated finger.  “You’re the woman with the dog!”

The trick is considering other people without over-considering them.  The husband alerting his new bride not to use her fingers on her cake…could have been concerned about bothering the other guests could possibly, maybe, sort of been showing a bit of over-concern for the guests. Of course, marriage means “I love-you-your-perfect-except-for-these-few-hundred-little-things-you-must-change-if-I-am-to-be-kept-comfortable.”  And, I must not be uncomfortable, ever. That’s the deal.

Say, what? What goes both ways?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Swinging on the Limbs of Phone Trees. Stress, Part 3

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Dateline:  Left hand on one phone tree limb…Right hand gripping another tree limb…oops.

PART THREE.  Hour Three. You will not be able to properly feel my pain or find some shred of forgiveness for my behavior unless you have read Parts One and Two of my torture history.

Hour Three in Phone Tree Stress

Now I’m bumped up to Level Three Customer Service since my request is
apparently too complicated for the first two levels. Level Three Customer
Service Guy thanks me for choosing Dell and asks me to give him all my
information again.  He assures me he will solve the problem. I let out a sigh of relief.

Level Three Customer Service Guy comes back on the call where I wait with gratitude and anticipatory excitement. LTCSG says, “I see the problem.  Your computer only fits with a six cell battery and what they sent you was a nine cell battery.”

I struggle to breathe. Okay. Just because common sense made no sense to Levels One and Two, maybe it will work with Level Three Guy. I begin, “Sir, I’m afraid you are mistaken. Yo see, the computer in front of me came with a nine cell battery and I have purchased several replacement nine cell batteries from Dell.”

Didn’t even make a dent. He continues, “Ma’am. No. Please listen. You have
the right battery for your computer. We just need to send you six cell batteries of the same type and you will be ready to go.”

“But–”

“Trust me. Your computer can only use a six cell battery edition of the same kind of battery you were sent. I will order two of these for you.”

At this point, I suspect I’m going insane. I give up. “Fine. Here’s my credit card number…though you are sending me an incompatible battery and wasting another week.”

To check out the insanity possibility I now drive to Best Buy to get checked out with a Geek Squad Guy. I run my story, show him my computer and ask if I’m losing it. Geek Squad Guy says: “No ma’am. That is a nine cell battery and your computer uses a nine cell battery.”

Trembling and nauseous. I know what hell lies ahead. I call Dell back. I trudge through levels one, two, and three spouting my name, address, and shoe size over and over.

Level Four Supervisor Guy apologizes profusely and says he’ll fix the problem. Could he please have my name, address, last four digits of my Social Security Number, and place of birth.

Hour Four

Fifty-six games of solitaire and four dropped calls (each requiring that I give them my birth certificate again), Level Four Supervisor Guy is back on the phone. I tell him my sad story. He looks up the order for the two batteries Level Three Guy ordered for me. He agrees that those batteries are not the correct batteries. He tells me not to worry, when I receive the batteries, my money will be refunded after I take the package to a UPS office, since I have nothing to do with my life except to do research and run errands for Dell.

Level Four Supervisor Guy has a special goodie for me since I’ve had so much trouble.  The goodie? “We are going to give you free shipping for these new batteries!” he says grandly.

I go back to the insanity possibility.  Did he just say Dell was generously going to
pay for shipping back to Dell the batteries to replace the wrong batteries for which I had paid Express Shipping?  I couldn’t hold in my glee and laughed. He asked me if I’d be interested in opening a Dell credit card.  Now I am roaring with joy.
“Oh, yes, that’s just want I want to do. I want to arrange my life to deal further with
Dell customer service, that is exactly what I want to do.”

Then, Level Four Supervisor Guy asked if I would stay on the line for a survey to help them out.  What?  I’m working for Dell Human Resources now?

Maybe I would have answered a few questions, but I was thinking margarita and a Jorge’s enchilada platter for lunch.  Oh, but wait.  My other phone is ringing….which was handy since my call with Level Four Guy had dropped before the survey commenced and before he’d ordered the correct batteries for me.

I answer the cell. “First, let me thank you for choosing Dell. We show that earlier today you ordered two six-celled batteries. We’d like to follow up on your call to Customer Service. Would you punch in your name, phone number, and the Day Lincoln was shot…and then choose from the following options…”

Lunch turned out to be a fantasy. You’d think this situation couldn’t get worse, but it does. Going insane seems like a small price for how I spent the afternoon.

 

Adventures in the Phone Trees, Part 2, Super Stress

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Dateline: Seventh Rung of the Phone Tree. I can see Saturn from here.

To comprehend this portion of Customer Service Phone Torture, first catch up with Part One.

Hour Two

Now I’m bumped up to Level Two since my request is apparently too complicated for the first ring of hell. Level Two Customer Service Guy thanks me for choosing Dell and asks me to give him all my information again.  He assures me he will solve the problem.  Sigh of relief.

Someone’s going to help me.  But, oh. Nay, nay! Because what Bubble Voice Lady is really saying is:

“Hey, don’t you get it? You are the one causing us a problem. We do not hire people anymore…that’s a sham…not to mention expensive. You have landed in our Customer Service Slave Section, that is, employees who have chronic lateness issues and bad breath. What’s really going to happen here is, I am going to torture you until you quit this nonsense and hang up. We’d prefer that you spend your money with this company without us even having to hear about it.  Just check the boxes and put
in your credit card number.  Wouldn’t we all be happier if you’d just hang up and do the ordering for us?  If you continue to persist, you will be put on the special terminal hold we’ve set up for customers like you– which is a message suggesting you go online and not bother us. This will be rotated with my voice every two minutes reminding you how important your call is to this company!”

A new voice picks up the call. I’m excited. The customer service guy says, “Thank you for calling Dell. Unrli whu ssoommoo. Ursache waser.”

I have no idea what this guy means because now I’m in India.  I don’t blame the “customer service” guy. He’s working to make a little money in a poor country and he’s brave to take on the task of trying to be understood. I do blame Dell for not caring
enough about customer service to hire people for whom English is a first
language.  The call from India drops off.

Right. Start all over with Bubble Voice Lady. “Thank you for calling Dell!  Please choose…”

After five trips to India and five times giving my address, service code, order number and educational history…in my broken Indian-English I tell the guy that the batteries Dell sent me (to replace those that were stolen) arrived yesterday and they are the wrong batteries for my computer.  He asked if I purchased the batteries on line.

What he’s really saying is: “Hey, if you bought these on line, then you, dear valued customer, is the one at fault. Haha. Gotcha. No more time for you!”

I explain that, no, I purposely bought them on the phone because I wanted to be very sure the correct batteries were sent—since the last time I ordered these batteries it took Dell three shipments before I was sent the correct batteries.  That I had ordered
on the day my luggage was stolen because I needed them as soon as possible.
They are the wrong batteries. What follows is thirty minutes of repeating what
I told my Indian friends.

I am kicked up to Level Three. I think Foreign Legion Customer Service Guy hit the panic button on his keyboard.

I give my information again to Level Three Customer Service Guy (LTCSG). This is the seventh time I have given this information to citizens whose native language is not English. The Level Three customer service guy puts me on hold while he checks part numbers, computer service tag numbers, and blood type.  He returns to the call.

Here is where the conversation really slips off the page.

I am sitting at my computer. I am holding one of the wrong batteries in my hand. Foreign Legion Level Three Customer Service Guy says:  “Ma’am the batteries you received are the correct batteries for your computer.”

Did I mention I was holding one of the wrong batteries in my hand?  That it did not look like, nor was it configured like the battery that came with the computer or batteries I’ve bought since. I convey this to Level Two Customer Service Guy.  He repeats his assurance that I am holding the correct battery.

I say again that I have the battery in my hand and it doesn’t fit the computer. You can see that from just a look.  It’s not the battery for the computer.

LTCSG repeats his claim and asks me if I will open the package the battery came in and take a look at it.  Did I mention…

Part 3…Level Four…

Stress: Mobile Communications Have Made the World a Village and I Am Its Idiot

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Stress: Mobile Communications Have Made the World a Village and I Am the Village Idiot

Part One: Anxiety and How Your World, Bad or Good, Is a Projection of Your Thoughts

Dateline: Flight American Airlines 859 Austin to LA. There are a hundred or so people on this flight. We will all go through the same sky over the same period of time. But each of us will have our own personally produced and directed experience. I hate knowing this. Makes me responsible for what goes on inside my chest cavity even when I’m surrounded with all these handy scapegoats.

While once you are on the plane your physical choices are limited, there are certain bits of advise you can follow to improve your chances of keeping your cool on a trip. here are a couple of stress preventing tips.

Travel Tip One: Do not buy a new pair of shoes before a trip. Not following this simple rule could land you bribing a taxi driver who is forbidden to pick up short street fares forty dollars to take you the six blocks between the Mandalay Bay and the MGM on the Las Vegas Strip.

Travel Tip Two: Do not buy a new electronic device, say a Samsung Galaxy Tab, on the evening before a trip. with the plan of conquering the new system and set-up so that you can transfer your current manuscript from your seventeen inch monster laptop into the new device and use the new device the next day, easily balancing it on the tray table on the plane.

Sure, I know this tip NOW. But not yesterday afternoon when I stopped at Best Buy to pick up a Hepafilter replacement and wandered, as always through the laptop section…just in case. “Any non-Apple seventeen inch laptops weighing less than a banana yet?” “No, Dr. DeShong, the one you have still leads the pack.” (I know. Way too many waiters and way too many electronics’ salespeople know me by name, the first because of my lack of kitchen time and the second group because every purchase I make comes with return trips and questions these young salesmen find hilarious.)

Had I zigged left instead of right last night, I wouldn’t have passed a table showcasing new tablets and so much about this trip would have been different. For example, I wouldn’t be on both the Best Buy and the Samsung Ten Most Wanted lists. When I spotted the shiny new toy my heart took off. I waved at my salesman friend and said, “I’ll take this tablet and this cover and this keyboard, and this stylus and this screen cover (VERY IMPORTANT, see below). “This will be easy for me to set up, right?” I asked.

“Practically automatic,” he said with the confident enthusiasm of a pre-teen IPhone owner.

I bring my new toy home. I haven’t packed yet, and the dogs have to have a bath, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and I have a client or two before the workday officially ends. I should wait till later. There is absolutely no good reason to open this puppy and attempt a new system.

Foam and plastic flew as I took the Jaws of Life to the packaging. Tiny unreadable warranties and instructions flipped out into the foam, plastic and cardboard debris. I held the slim, glowing beauty in my hands and grinned smugly picturing myself whipping out my tablet while others on the flight struggled with clumsy laptops. Why can’t these people keep up with the times?

As I placed my new toy on my desk to await my magic fingers until I finished my appointments which ended at 7:30. The Voice of Reason, that witch so often ruining my good times, called to me from out of the fog:

“Pack first, bathe the dogs, return calls first…this new device set-up could take longer than you think…” That’s the problem with the Voice of Reason. The V of R is way too tied to the past, way too determined to hold that unfortunate and unpleasant weekend we call “The Hellhole Weekend of the Apple Air” against me. Hey, Best Buy took it back, didn’t they? Scratches and all.

Free tip: Those young boys at the Geek Squad return desk can’t take a mature woman crying in public. Okay, wailing.

So, forget it, Voice of Reason. Pshaw. Maybe most people would pack first, but learning how to use my new toy wasn’t going to take more than a few minutes. Again I flashed on myself on the plane, whipping out my snazzy new tablet and clicking through the manuscript I’d downloaded from the clumsy seventeen incher (the one I’m using now on the rickety tray table).

Appointments over, I began the tablet set-up. I made it all the way to “how to turn on” what we shall refer to as call that Freaking Samsung Techno Devil or the FSTD.

Oh, wait. Here comes the beverage cart. Pretty hard to find a place for my Coke can with this giant computer on my tray table. Oh, I’ll just stick the can in the seat pocket in front of me. Oops…sheesh…ouch! I hate it when my computer hits my bare toes. To be continued….