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Friday, May 21, 2010


It has been about three weeks since I made fun of my mom so I figured everyone was probably much in need of an update. After all, F*ckbook is only so funny. For a moment I was worried that my mother would follow Vanilla Ice into the darkness of "one hit wonderdom" but good ole' Maggie proved me wrong. My dear friends, get ready: My mom had her first run in with...(cue the Jaws soundtrack)...THE CLOUD.

Before I launch into my "Can you believe this sh*t??" tale-o-mommy, I must give you the back-story. For 57 years, my mom has managed to go about her day-to-day tasks without having to concern herself with computers, "the Internets", and technology in general. She uses AOL (AOL4lyfe), has an old-school printer, and until very recently, was on dial-up. Needless to say, she certainly had no idea what "the cloud" was. And she probably would have been perfectly fine for another 30 years or so had I not opened my damn mouth in front of her while talking to Kevin...but alas, I did, and she was ever-so-curious.

We were sitting around the table about two months ago when my mom first heard of THE CLOUD. Kevin and I were talking to her new "companion" about geeky stuff (her beau is in IT) and THE CLOUD came up. I think I said something like, "Oh, well just put it up in the cloud..."....and my mom looked at me like I just told her I was quitting my job to sell used needles to five year olds. "What do you mean when you say "Put it in THE CLOUD"? What is THE CLOUD?" She went on and on....and on for what seemed like forever (though, it was only about two minutes) and when she was done, I let Kevin break it down for her. Patience is not his strongest quality so I was slightly amused to see him explain the concept of THE CLOUD to my mom like she was the latest voyager on the short bus. She needed it though...when it comes to technology any concept explained at a fourth grade level or higher completely blows her mind. (She is smart, though, I promise. If you get sued or are in need of emergency medical care, she is your go-to-lady. She is pretty much a certified bad-ass.) Anyway, after he described THE CLOUD in a paint-by-numbers inspired description we moved on to a topic that was far more entertaining. (In case you are curious, that topic was whether or not our youngest poodle, Griffin, is gay. Yes. Seriously, that's what we talked great length.)

Anyway, not too long ago I got the weekly "check-in" call from my mom. This call is pretty typical (hence the "weekly") and it usually covers the same topics (1) my brothers 2) said brothers smoking pot 3) my mom only smoking pot 11 times in her entire life 4) her boyfriend thinks it is funny 5) earthquakes in San Francisco and my inevitable death by natural disaster (so says mother), 6) my ex-husband and what a gigantic d-bag he is and how much better Kevin is 7) the 411 on my brother, Ryan, in NYC 8) the poodles 9) the poodles, 10) the poodles, 568) the poodles...), with a few variations from time to time. This time, however, the call started out with pure hysteria...and that hysteria was caused by THE CLOUD!!! Judging by her freak-out level, I'm pretty sure my mom has a mental image of THE CLOUD that resembles the black smoke monster from LOST...but anyway...she was TERRIFIED.

To give you an idea, it went (almost exactly) like this.

Mom: Megan!!!!!!!!!!! Ah, F**K! MEGAN!!!!!!!!!!! (and a few noises that I can't really figure out how to type)

Me: Mom, what is going on?

Mom: (Silence, just papers shuffling and a lot of banging.)

Me: Mom? (This disorganization/chaos is usually how most of our calls begin, by the way.)

Mom: (Direct Quote) THE CLOUD ate my pictures!!!!!! How do I get them back??

Me: What do you mean, "THE CLOUD ate your pictures?" It doesn't eat anything, mom.

Mom: I had pictures on my desktop and they aren't there now. I think THE CLOUD took them.

Me: Mom, THE CLOUD didn't take anything. I'm pretty sure you don't have that set-up going on.

Mom: Megan, listen to me! They were here. Now they aren't. Somehow THE CLOUD got them. They went up into THE CLOUD. I got to go. I have to get them back.

****Click.**** The crazy freakin' lady hung up on me to go battle THE CLOUD. (The images of my mother suiting up in armor had me in stitches for a long time. In fact, I was still hysterically laughing when Kevin got home.

About an hour later I got a voicemail from my mother. "Megan. I found them. They were in a folder. Could that be THE CLOUD?"

Sweet, sweet mother. **Patting her on the head from 3,000 miles away.**

Since the showdown with THE CLOUD, her boyfriend has given her a tutorial on THE CLOUD and building folders and has explained to her a folder on her desktop named "Pics" is not THE CLOUD in disguise. Things have been (relatively) quiet and the frantic calls have subsided. Our conversations have circled back to my brothers and their love affair with Mary Jane, the poodles, and whether or not Griffin prefers poodles of the same sex or not. (Oh yes, and how I'm going to be buried by rubble in an earthquake. Can't forget that one.) Though it is nice to return to the usual with my mother, I know, it is only a matter of time until there is another technology related catastrophe. Until then, my friends, enjoy the latest "you've got to be kidding me" story and stay tuned...because as sure as the sun rises and falls, my mom will come calling, and I will write it ALL down.

***PS. About a week after the F*ckbook debacle, my mom's account got hacked. Though this was a huge pain in the butt for her, for me, nothing amused me more. (Yes, I know. Once I get buried in the aforementioned earthquake, I'm going to the special section of Hell reserved for smart-ass daughters. That's cool; I can deal.)

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