Congratulations! You are now entitled to free legal advice for life!
Don't
worry if you haven't contacted this person in years and couldn't
correctly spell their name without looking it up on Facebook. All you
need to do to hook that shit up is just shoot off an email (or call her parents and tell THEM to do it for you!) and demand your
entitlement.
Bonus points if you insist that the
lawyer call you, rather than setting out your issue in an email that
they can address at their convenience. Fuck that. Your time is precious!
After all, your problem needs to be addressed NOW because you ignored
it for so long. So, make sure to tell her that you're only available
between 7 and 8pm tonight. She won't be doing anything else, then.
And,
it's not like the lawyer has anything better to do than to address your
problem. It will just take "a quick minute," anyway. Well, maybe two,
since you don't actually know what your question should be and didn't
bother to gather the information before you contacted the lawyer out of
the blue. But hey! Your cousin's step-mother once babysat for her, so
she totally owes you.
Don't bother determining what
kind of law your "friend" actually practices. It's not like you ever
read her blog or anecdotes about her clients. If all she talks about is
litigation, she should be perfectly capable of telling you when your
employer's estimated tax payments should be due. Lawyers are just like
doctors, right? They all know everything about every field of practice. I
mean, come on! You always just walk into a podiatrist for a pap smear.
And
you should expect that she can fix your problem - over the phone, too - without looking at a single scrap of paper. You can just hold that
non-existent contract right up to the mouthpiece on your Nokia and she
can interpret what you really meant when you agreed to pay that guy
from the Home Depot parking lot upfront to rewire your house. She can
also get you out of your eviction, tell you how to get out of having to
pay for your repossessed car, and determine if your existing counsel (the one you're actually paying to answer these questions) is doing the right things.
You have the right to expect your free legal advice to conform to your expectations and wants. By all means, you should feel free to argue with your pro bono counsel if you don't like what she is telling you. You do not have to accept being told that you don't have a case or that you are in the wrong.
But the most important thing is to NEVER, EVER offer anything in return. It would be insulting to
the lawyer to invite her over for dinner in exchange for you saving the
hundreds or thousands of dollars you'd have to pay a "real" lawyer.
After all, even a cup of coffee could be awkward, considering you
haven't even seen this person for five years. Don't bother sending a thank you card, either. An unemployed lawyer should be happy to work for absolutely nothing, just to keep their skills sharpened.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
A better place
I don't know how other people do it - "fight the good fight" over and over again. I have an acquaintance who has been sick for a couple of years; she hasn't been out of bed under her own steam for more than a week total in the past two years. But this woman is by far the most upbeat person I have had the pleasure of knowing. Her chipper attitude belies her constant struggles to even breathe on her own. She is inspiring. I admire her spirit.
But dear lord, I have no idea how she keeps it up.
Because I am *so* tired and I don't want to pretend anymore to be cheerful just to make other people more comfortable.
When you have a physical ailment, it is easy to get sympathy. People understand when you are cranky and unsocial. Get cancer, and people will do walkathons for you, listen to you talk about your symptoms, and buy colorful ribbon stickers or key chains in your honor. It won't do a damn thing to make your sickness better, but at least they are there for you, in spirit.
When you have depression, people just say you should "cheer up." Or that you should pray more. Or they just cut right to the chase and tell you to "get over it." As if "it" was something tangible that you could just toss out with the trash.
Write a Facebook status that you just had surgery and you will get scores of comments sending you best wishes. Write that you struggle to struggle to make yourself get out of bed - let alone shower and put clothes on - and you're likely to be called a drama queen.
The vast majority of my family members who have passed away have done so after a long, lingering illness. The memorial services are naturally sad for those of us left behind, but they usually have an undercurrent of relief that our loved one is no longer in pain. If someone chooses to stop chemotherapy because their quality of life is unbearable, it is socially acceptable - most people wouldn't dream of forcing another person to suffer beyond their endurance just to ease any guilt of those around them.
So why do the comments turn hateful when someone suffering from a debilitating *mental* illness succumbs to it? I have heard so many people - some among my best friends - spew venomous comments about someone who commits suicide. These victims are "selfish" and "only thinking about themselves." Those poor souls whose attempts are unsuccessful are accused of being "attention whores."
Bullshit, I say. Mental illness is just as worthy of compassion as physical illness, and if you think that shaming a person through a guilt trip will somehow magically fix the problem, you have a lot to learn about the meaning of human empathy.
But dear lord, I have no idea how she keeps it up.
Because I am *so* tired and I don't want to pretend anymore to be cheerful just to make other people more comfortable.
When you have a physical ailment, it is easy to get sympathy. People understand when you are cranky and unsocial. Get cancer, and people will do walkathons for you, listen to you talk about your symptoms, and buy colorful ribbon stickers or key chains in your honor. It won't do a damn thing to make your sickness better, but at least they are there for you, in spirit.
When you have depression, people just say you should "cheer up." Or that you should pray more. Or they just cut right to the chase and tell you to "get over it." As if "it" was something tangible that you could just toss out with the trash.
Write a Facebook status that you just had surgery and you will get scores of comments sending you best wishes. Write that you struggle to struggle to make yourself get out of bed - let alone shower and put clothes on - and you're likely to be called a drama queen.
The vast majority of my family members who have passed away have done so after a long, lingering illness. The memorial services are naturally sad for those of us left behind, but they usually have an undercurrent of relief that our loved one is no longer in pain. If someone chooses to stop chemotherapy because their quality of life is unbearable, it is socially acceptable - most people wouldn't dream of forcing another person to suffer beyond their endurance just to ease any guilt of those around them.
So why do the comments turn hateful when someone suffering from a debilitating *mental* illness succumbs to it? I have heard so many people - some among my best friends - spew venomous comments about someone who commits suicide. These victims are "selfish" and "only thinking about themselves." Those poor souls whose attempts are unsuccessful are accused of being "attention whores."
Bullshit, I say. Mental illness is just as worthy of compassion as physical illness, and if you think that shaming a person through a guilt trip will somehow magically fix the problem, you have a lot to learn about the meaning of human empathy.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
The company you keep
I am a hypocrite. I have stood by silently while someone spouted some of the most ignorant, bigoted and misogynistic comments. Oh, I made feeble attempts to counter the attacks. I joke that "at least you're an equal opportunity hater - you think everyone is inferior but yourself." I have excused the hatred because the people it was directed at weren't there to hear it, so who is really getting hurt?
You know what? I am getting hurt because I've become numb to it.
Admittedly, I am a terrible judge of character. I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt long after they've crossed the line where they should have been written off. In fact, as I sit here, I can only think of two people that I genuinely dislike. I am a bit of a doormat. I want people to like me, so I don't rock the boat. Even though my job requires me to be an advocate for others, I don't stick up for myself. I might get riled up easily, but my anger deflates just as quickly. I just don't see much point in wasting energy in being mad at someone, and frankly I don't usually even care enough about other people to put for that kind of effort for more than a day. The result is that I forgive people for some pretty awful actions. Sometimes I convince myself that I misunderstood a conversation or I just "forget" that someone has been mean.
It's not like I have "kicked puppy" syndrome, it's more of a type of ADD when it comes to others' faults. I know that I am not perfect and would want to be forgiven for my mistakes, so I am eager to give others the same courtesy.
This is not always a bad trait. There is a lot of unpleasantness in life that I just can't do anything about, so it is sometimes a blessing to be able to quickly get over the slings and arrows that pass my way.
But at some point, the constant negative energy gets through even *my* thick skull and I want to rip someone out of my life like a band-aid. In some cases, this is an easy decision - like the "friend" who only invited me to visit when she needed work done around her house that her perpetual grad student husband was incapable of doing. That was one of the easiest decisions I've ever made.
Other times, it isn't so clear-cut. You might have a crappy boss, but once you've had more than one job under your belt, you realize that great bosses are hard to come by. You might jump out of the proverbial frying pan and into a firestorm of biblical proportions. I learned that lesson the hard way when I quit one job only to end up with a new boss that bragged about making his employees cry.
Things get even dicier when someone mixes their asshattery with being nice. It's easier to excuse their bad behavior when you have examples of their generosity. I tell myself that if someone is a dick, their behavior only reflects on themselves, not on me. But that is not true.
I would like to say that I came to this conclusion through some great epiphany, but that isn't exactly true. It wasn't until I opened my eyes and realized that I was treated like one of "them" that I realized how anesthetized I'd become through the constant exposure to this bigotry. I am losing my credibility, my integrity, my self by putting up with this. I was a coward, but I'm done.
You know what? I am getting hurt because I've become numb to it.
Admittedly, I am a terrible judge of character. I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt long after they've crossed the line where they should have been written off. In fact, as I sit here, I can only think of two people that I genuinely dislike. I am a bit of a doormat. I want people to like me, so I don't rock the boat. Even though my job requires me to be an advocate for others, I don't stick up for myself. I might get riled up easily, but my anger deflates just as quickly. I just don't see much point in wasting energy in being mad at someone, and frankly I don't usually even care enough about other people to put for that kind of effort for more than a day. The result is that I forgive people for some pretty awful actions. Sometimes I convince myself that I misunderstood a conversation or I just "forget" that someone has been mean.
It's not like I have "kicked puppy" syndrome, it's more of a type of ADD when it comes to others' faults. I know that I am not perfect and would want to be forgiven for my mistakes, so I am eager to give others the same courtesy.
This is not always a bad trait. There is a lot of unpleasantness in life that I just can't do anything about, so it is sometimes a blessing to be able to quickly get over the slings and arrows that pass my way.
But at some point, the constant negative energy gets through even *my* thick skull and I want to rip someone out of my life like a band-aid. In some cases, this is an easy decision - like the "friend" who only invited me to visit when she needed work done around her house that her perpetual grad student husband was incapable of doing. That was one of the easiest decisions I've ever made.
Other times, it isn't so clear-cut. You might have a crappy boss, but once you've had more than one job under your belt, you realize that great bosses are hard to come by. You might jump out of the proverbial frying pan and into a firestorm of biblical proportions. I learned that lesson the hard way when I quit one job only to end up with a new boss that bragged about making his employees cry.
Things get even dicier when someone mixes their asshattery with being nice. It's easier to excuse their bad behavior when you have examples of their generosity. I tell myself that if someone is a dick, their behavior only reflects on themselves, not on me. But that is not true.
I would like to say that I came to this conclusion through some great epiphany, but that isn't exactly true. It wasn't until I opened my eyes and realized that I was treated like one of "them" that I realized how anesthetized I'd become through the constant exposure to this bigotry. I am losing my credibility, my integrity, my self by putting up with this. I was a coward, but I'm done.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Frustrated, Incorporated - A tragedy in one act
Scene. Chicago. A dining room
It is late afternoon. A gorgeous redheaded woman sits at a small computer desk in front of a window, impatiently clicking a pen held in her right hand. Her left hand holds a phone to her left ear. She moves the phone down to view the display.
Parum. Ten minutes?!? Fuckers.
She sets the phone down, about to put it on speaker, when...
Comcast Fucker #1: [Cheerfully] Thank you for calling Comcast! Can I verify the name on this account?
Parum: I've already given it to three different people!
CF#1: Yes, Mrs. Morsus, I understand. Can I verify the name on this account?
Parum: First of all, it's Ms. Second, do you not see the irony in your statement?
CF#1: [confused] Irony?
Parum: You just called me by my name to ask me to verify my name!
CF#1: [silence]
Parum: Fine. It's Ms. Parum Morsus.
CF#1: Thank you so much Mrs. Morris. How can I help you?
Parum: [Sighing] I had to click through four prompts to specify that I was having trouble with my internet service. That was 15 minutes ago. I am still having trouble with my internet service. My TV channels work, but the modem isn't sending out a signal or something. I've unplugged everything, waited a minute, then plugged it back in. I restarted my computer. Twice. What gives?
CF#1: Ok, you are going to need to talk to Xfinity Signature Support. There is a charge for that.
Parum: [shrieking] What? Your equipment isn't working. Your phone system just had me enter all this information and said press all these numbers if I was having problems with my internet. Why would it make me do that if you couldn't actually help me?
CF#1: Well, we used to offer free support, but we don't anymore.
Parum: By any chance, did you stop offering free support at 2 o'clock this morning when my internet went out?
CF#1: [planning how to write this call up in some tech-support-customers-suck blog] Ma'am. If there's something wrong with your service, you must call Xfinity Signature Support. If your router is broken, you will need to buy a new router. I can give you some recommendations.
Parum: But it's *your* router! I pay you money for it every month!
CF#1: Wait. Are you talking about the router or the modem.
Parum: [hesitantly] Um...the thing with the antenna on it?
CF#1: Ok, you pay $7 a month for the modem. You're talking about the router. That's not ours.
Parum: But it has your name on it. Your rep came here and hooked it up.
CF#1: That wasn't us. There is nothing in your account history that shows we ever installed that.
Parum: Listen, you [bleeping] [bleep]. I am looking right at it. IT SAYS COMCAST RIGHT ON THE FRONT! Obviously I don't know anything about this stuff, so I didn't install it!
CF#1: [snickers] Yes, installing a wireless network can be very daunting.
Parum: You know what? Screw this, cancel my service. There is no point on having internet with you if you are not going to help me.
CF#1: [Obviously grateful to get the crazy bitch off the phone] I will get you over to the person who can do that for you.
Parum: Why? Don't they trust you to do anything?
[click.]
[static.] The phone call timer shows that four minutes go by.
Comcast Fucker #2: Ok, I understand you want to disconnect your service because you are having problems connecting to the internet? If possible, I'd really like to help you get your internet up and running, instead.
Parum: Well, that would be great, because the last guy was spectacularly unhelpful. He said I had to call someone else, though
CF#2: Yes, ma'am. He explained your...situation...to me. As he said, you'd have to call Xfinity Signature Support. Those tech guys are really the best people to help you.
Parum: Can you just give me their number?
CF#2: No, I can't give you their number. You'd have to hang up, then call back and select that option from the main menu.
Parum: Uh, NO, that wasn't an option in the main menu or else that's who I would be talking to instead of you. Besides, CF#1 said there was a charge for that.
CF#2: Well, I'm not in that department, so I can't speak to that.
Parum: What? So they may charge me, but I won't know until after?
CF#2: I'm really not familiar with their billing practices.
Parum: %#^%&^$##$%!!!
CF#2: Ma'am? Your phone seems to be cutting out.
Parum: You know what? This is the most Mickey Mouse operation I've ever seen. You don't support your own service and equipment?!? What the hell kind of business...
Parum is distracted by the lights suddenly flashing on whatever that thing with the antenna is.
Parum: Um. Never mind, it's working.
CF#2: [click]
Friday, February 24, 2012
I am the only shedding bitch allowed in my home.
In a recent attempt to economize, I have been contemplating a move. I have all but decided that I will move in with my family in a couple months, but for the sake of my sanity and theirs, I've also looked into getting a roommate (on the theory that a complete stranger would be more likely to allow me to live with them, as opposed to the people who know me far too well).
The universal conclusion? Single people fucking LOVE cats. What the hell is wrong with these people? Are you so afraid of being alone?
No thank you, I shed enough for three people, and I am bitchy enough for four and that is as close to having a cat as I ever want to get, again. The last cat I had (really it was my husband's, I just happened to have owned her first) was declawed after she decided to destroy most of the furniture and whatever legs got between her and the shadow she was contemplating at the time. This did not stop her from one day launching herself from a hiding place under the couch and onto my calf. I had to literally beat her off of me. For the week before I could haul her off to my (now ex-)husband's place, I had to wear knee-high boots around the house because she kept attacking me.
I should have known she was evil when she killed a shrew and put it in the toe of my high-heeled shoes. She'd shoved that thing so far up the toe that I didn't even realize it for hours. I will never get that smell out of my head. Or the cat's expression when I got home. Bitch.
Every cat owner thinks that theirs is different. "Oh no, Sweetie wouldn't hurt a fly!" (said by a friend as her cat licked its lips and gave me the look that promised hidden droppings if I ever dared to leave the bedroom door open). They whine and cry if they can see even the smallest dot of the bottom of their food bowl. They jump on you and shove their heads under your hand to be petted, only to turn around and bite you when you oblige them. They will push a lamp off a table then confidently saunter away as if daring you to say anything.
If you point out this behavior to a cat owner, you will get a laugh and possible an explanation that this independent streak is precisely why felines are so awesome.
Seriously?!? What is wrong with you people?
The universal conclusion? Single people fucking LOVE cats. What the hell is wrong with these people? Are you so afraid of being alone?
No thank you, I shed enough for three people, and I am bitchy enough for four and that is as close to having a cat as I ever want to get, again. The last cat I had (really it was my husband's, I just happened to have owned her first) was declawed after she decided to destroy most of the furniture and whatever legs got between her and the shadow she was contemplating at the time. This did not stop her from one day launching herself from a hiding place under the couch and onto my calf. I had to literally beat her off of me. For the week before I could haul her off to my (now ex-)husband's place, I had to wear knee-high boots around the house because she kept attacking me.
I should have known she was evil when she killed a shrew and put it in the toe of my high-heeled shoes. She'd shoved that thing so far up the toe that I didn't even realize it for hours. I will never get that smell out of my head. Or the cat's expression when I got home. Bitch.
Every cat owner thinks that theirs is different. "Oh no, Sweetie wouldn't hurt a fly!" (said by a friend as her cat licked its lips and gave me the look that promised hidden droppings if I ever dared to leave the bedroom door open). They whine and cry if they can see even the smallest dot of the bottom of their food bowl. They jump on you and shove their heads under your hand to be petted, only to turn around and bite you when you oblige them. They will push a lamp off a table then confidently saunter away as if daring you to say anything.
If you point out this behavior to a cat owner, you will get a laugh and possible an explanation that this independent streak is precisely why felines are so awesome.
Seriously?!? What is wrong with you people?
Monday, February 20, 2012
You know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
for me
And I'm feeling good...
I hate being sick.
It emphasizes some of my worst traits. I want to be tough, but comforted and I don't know how to ask for help. I am quick to assume no one wants to be bothered taking care of me (lots of people volunteered to make me dinner or take me to appointments - why didn't anyone volunteer to do dishes or laundry?!?). I vacillate between being stoic and whiny. So many people have it so much worse.
The problem with comparison is that when you're in pain your focus gets reeeeaallly narrow and as bad as you might feel, intellectually, for someone else, their plight cannot take your mind off your own.
The converse of that is how fucking amazing it is when you come through it. After two months of feeling like total crud, I feel like I have so much energy, in comparison. I scrubbed my walls and floor boards. I took down and washed my shades. I scrubbed the frakking radiator and washed the floors on my hands and knees. Then I slept for about 24 hours.
Now to get out there and enjoy this while I can, before the next shoe drops...
Saturday, February 11, 2012
In defense of Valentine's Day
I have been trying to find pleasure in the little things in life to get me through some recent rough patches. I've been posting "what made me happy today" entries featuring amusing videos, a collection of Lord of the Rings Pez dispensers and pictures of flowers. Last week, I started to post a picture of a Valentine's Day card, but I held off because I wanted to give it to my sister and didn't want her to see it on my Facebook page before she got it in the mail. (Although, if she spends half as much time as I do at Target, she'd probably already seen it.)
I love getting personal mail. It is so uncommon these days, when invitations are sent through Evite and the bulk of birthday greetings are just pixels on a Facebook page. That is what is so wonderful about holidays: it is a nice reminder to keep in touch with people...you know, IN PERSON. Or at least with a more personal touch. I like giving cards and little gifts as much as I like receiving them. For $2 plus the price of a stamp, you can make someone's day.
So I am always a little amazed when people disparage "made-up holidays" and the traditions that go along with them. Cheryl Lavin, a relationship columnist over at the Sun Times and self-described "Vrinch," recently published a tirade that compared Valentine's Day (originally celebrated in 496 AD and associated with romantic love as far back as the 14th century) to Festivus (originally created as a gag for a sitcom in 1997). It makes me wonder what holiday she wouldn't consider "made-up." I imagine that she is the type to hand out nickels to trick-or-treaters.
It seems that the negative comments about Valentine's Day are either directed against the supposed unrealistic expectations created by various industries or by people who don't like to be reminded if they don't have a significant other. Men lament that they are expected to plan an elaborate fantasy complete with flowers that won't last a week and a fancy dinner that is gone in an hour. Women complain that the day is geared toward couples and they feel left out or somehow "less-than" if they aren't in a relationship.
Both sides claim that love should be expressed spontaneously, when you actually feel like it, and not forced because of some arbitrarily dictated square on the calendar.
As with many holidays, it is true this particular one has become commercialized (hello? we live in a capitalist country!), but no more so than any other. And this one has the added benefit of focusing on expressing your appreciation for the significant people in your life. In my mind, that sure beats the hell out the Presiden's Day mattress sales.
I love getting personal mail. It is so uncommon these days, when invitations are sent through Evite and the bulk of birthday greetings are just pixels on a Facebook page. That is what is so wonderful about holidays: it is a nice reminder to keep in touch with people...you know, IN PERSON. Or at least with a more personal touch. I like giving cards and little gifts as much as I like receiving them. For $2 plus the price of a stamp, you can make someone's day.
So I am always a little amazed when people disparage "made-up holidays" and the traditions that go along with them. Cheryl Lavin, a relationship columnist over at the Sun Times and self-described "Vrinch," recently published a tirade that compared Valentine's Day (originally celebrated in 496 AD and associated with romantic love as far back as the 14th century) to Festivus (originally created as a gag for a sitcom in 1997). It makes me wonder what holiday she wouldn't consider "made-up." I imagine that she is the type to hand out nickels to trick-or-treaters.
It seems that the negative comments about Valentine's Day are either directed against the supposed unrealistic expectations created by various industries or by people who don't like to be reminded if they don't have a significant other. Men lament that they are expected to plan an elaborate fantasy complete with flowers that won't last a week and a fancy dinner that is gone in an hour. Women complain that the day is geared toward couples and they feel left out or somehow "less-than" if they aren't in a relationship.
Both sides claim that love should be expressed spontaneously, when you actually feel like it, and not forced because of some arbitrarily dictated square on the calendar.
I say BS to all of this. My fondest V Day memories have nothing to do with being in a relationship. I remember picking out cards to hand out in elementary school: the fun deciding between the Snoopy cards or whichever cartoon character was most popular in a given year. In high school, we could order different color roses to have delivered to friends in class. I had a blast picking out fun cards to send to family and friends this year. I even picked out the perfect card for my decidedly unromantic boyfriend.
As with many holidays, it is true this particular one has become commercialized (hello? we live in a capitalist country!), but no more so than any other. And this one has the added benefit of focusing on expressing your appreciation for the significant people in your life. In my mind, that sure beats the hell out the Presiden's Day mattress sales.
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