Dr. Cy Kosis
"Insightful answers to life's petty problems."
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Dear Cy,
I'm a 75 year old widow. My son and daughter-in-law recently called and asked if they could move in with me for approximately four months, while they're house is being built. They have plenty of money, but are too cheap to rent a place for a few months. They're kids are little terrors who I dearly love, but can't stand for more than an hour or two at a time, if you know what I mean. I don't want to seem selfish, but I don't want them living with me either. What should I do?
Signed,
Too Old for this
Dear Too Old for this,
There's no time like the present to learn to be assertive. You need to approach your son and daughter-in-law respectfully, yet firmly, and let them know your feelings. You sound as if this may be difficult for you to do. Subconsciously, you may fear their withdrawal of love and ultimate rejection. You may need a therapists assistance to reinforce your self-esteem sufficiently to deal with this problem.
If this is too uncomfortable for you, consider buying an old purse and filling it with some rotten food (spoiled fish, limburger cheese, raw eggs, ect). Then, you and the purse pay them a little visit, preferably around dinner time. While standing real close to them, explain that you've been recently diagnosed with a bowel disorder that won't clear up for about five months. While opening your purse just a crack, tell them your doctor said there may be some side effects from the medication you're taking, but you haven't noticed any as of yet.
My guess is they'll start to smell the roses! |
Need advice? Ask Dr. Cy Kosis.
E-mail: drcy@netzone.com
Written address:
Dr. Cy Kosis
632 N. Redrock
Gilbert, Az 85234
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Submissions
The RITSPHERE
-by Vinny Bove
Walkin' round this crazy campus, I often hear tell of the "bubble" that one lives in when going to RIT. Those liberated from its labrynthian brick-encrusted surroundings will probably agree with me in saying that the real world seems a remote place after resurfacing from college life. Reflecting on that, I came up with an interesting analogy:
You know that Biosphere thing (just bear with me here)? It's a big man made world, supposedly perfect in every way, where humans can live in perfect solace and isolation, while the rest of the squalid stinking world foots the bill for this oversized funhouse. While inside the Sphere of Serenity, the Globe of Green, the Ball of...Stuff, its inhabitants know nothing of the society suffering around them, and they can live in ignorant bliss for the rest of their days. I consider RIT, or any out-of-the-way college for that matter, to be much the same.
Just for the sake of argument I'll present you with a little scenario that I made up this very second. Joe Schmo the Fraternity Bro finds himself wandering the streets of downtown Rochester. He has no idea how he got there. With a glazed look in his eyes and a drunken stupor to his gait he makes his way down a busy rush-hour sidewalk and finally collapses. Several good-hearted pedestrians (like I said, this is all fictional) try to bring him around.
When he comes to, one of the passersby tests his coherency with a few simple questions. "How many fingers am I holding up?" (Joe is a Comp Sci major, and any numbers not presented on a monitor are completely unintelligible) "Okay...well, who's the President of the United States?"
"Al Simone."
"Hmm...I see. What year is it?"
"Freshman."
The onlookers are concerned. They opt for one last desperate question. "What's your name?" They glance at each other nervously. This is when they find out whether or not a true fruitcake has been delivered into their midst.
A long dramatic pause. Then...
"073-62-9088."
When Joe arrives at the sanitarium, he stares at the drab and institutionalistic architecture and figures he has made it back home to his dorm. He spends the next sixty years unsuccessfully trying to hook up a B-Jack into the rubber padding of his room.
The moral of this severely screwed-up tale: Make your way into the real world as much as possible. The culture shock may be a bit painful at first, but it's a good hurt, and a lot better than eating the same chicken sandwich and crinkly fries every day.
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