The beauty of spoofed/spammed e-mails

Last August, I wrote about some crazy Nigerian hackers sending out spammy e-mails on my behalf.

Sorry to say, friends, it happened again.

FIRST, A TECHNOLOGY LESSON

I’ve recently learned that it’s not actually called “spamming” in this case — it’s called “spoofing.”

Many of you probably received an e-mail that looked like it was from me because they used my name; but the e-mail address was totally different. This means that possibly a long time ago, some obnoxious nobody with no morals somehow got my address book and is sending e-mails to my nearest and dearest — but there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ve changed my password, I’ve set up two-step authentication in Gmail, I monitor where people are logging into my account from, but the deed has been done and I can’t fix it.

IGNORE THESE KINDS OF E-MAILS FROM ME

So, for now on, you’ll probably get some sketchy e-mails from me occasionally. Please accept my blanket apology and just don’t click on the link. If you’re not sure if it’s from me or not, contact me to find out, but I tend not to write e-mails that look like spam.

Here’s an example of an e-mail that one of my friends received last week from “me”:

Subject: from: Lia Lehrer

Salutations Jill

[SKETCHY LINK, I WON’T INCLUDE IT HERE JUST IN CASE YOU GET CONFUSED AND CLICK ON IT]

Lia Lehrer

Sent from my iPhone

There are a few warning signs in this e-mail.

1.  Subject line. You will never see “From: Lia Lehrer” in a subject line from the real me. Obviously you can see who it’s from in the “from” line, so I can use the precious subject line for more important things like “Dinner tomorrow night” or “Pizza toppings” or “Dancing monkeys visiting my office with Oreos.”
2. Weird words. I have never and will never use the word “Salutations.”
3. Full name signature. Rarely do I sign an e-mail with my full name. Come on, if I’m e-mailing you, we’re probably already besties and on a first-name basis … and also, who are these other “Lia” friends spelled the same way that you’re cheating on me with??
4. Sent from my iPhone. Remember those commercials: “I’m a Mac” and “I’m a PC”? Well, friends, I am a PC. I’m not getting an iPhone. I love my Samsung Galaxy S5.

THE BEAUTY OF THE SPOOFED/SPAMMED E-MAILS

You gotta look at the bright side of life, though, right? Here’s what happens when spoofed e-mails get sent on my behalf: Without my even trying, here I am, showing up in your inbox, keeping in touch with you!

Wow, I haven’t heard from Lia in a while, but oh, that’s so nice of her to e-mail me. I should really call her.

I have one specific friend who lives out of town and we have a hard time keeping in touch as often as we would like; but she consistently texts me after receiving these spammy e-mails to make sure it wasn’t really me sending them, and, BOOM, we’re texting!

It’s like an alien has come into my inbox and e-mailed people on my behalf who he thinks I should be in touch with. “Lia! You haven’t e-mailed Sally in a while! You know what, rather than waiting for you to reach out, I’m just going to do it on your behalf.”

Spammy spoofy roboty alien, you know what might be better? Maybe send these people some actual content. Cut it out with the virus-inducing links; instead, maybe there’s a way you can include a message with my latest blog post and an intro message like…

Hey Sally, it’s been a while, I thought you might like to read my latest blog post.

[Excerpt from latest blog post.]

Hope you’re well! Salutations! Greetings, Earthling!

Lia Lehrer

Sent from my iPhone

Friends, I look forward to keeping in touch with you soon … whether it’s from me directly or from my social assistant, the Spammy Hacker!

Dram ewe, auto carrot

Editor’s note: For this week’s blog post, please enjoy a guest post, written by my friend Benjamin Singer.

Computers are sew smart.

Sorry — that was supposed to say “so” smart. Ergh. Stupid autocorrect.

Sometimes my phone fixes typos perfectly. Or takes a complex voice dictation and flawlessly relays it, with proper nouns and all. For example, I told Siri to have Lia tell her dad that I enjoyed the Passover seder with the MIDI files. Basically perfect.

Other times, I’ll be typing too quickly, and the phone amazingly corrects “dint” to “don’t” and “ehy” to “why,” “cant” to “can’t,” “thst” to “that,” “ehere” to “where,” and even “Lia lhrer” to “Lia Lehrer.”

But for some reason, sometimes it can’t type what I tell it explicitly.

When a friend of mine gets engaged, receives a job offer, or wins an election, I like to tell them “mazel tov,” congratulations. (Or “mazal tov” if I’m feeling extra Hebraic.) But a few years ago, I facilitated a discussion with a volunteer corps called TOV. I had an Android phone. At some point they got added to my contacts, and a year later, my new iPhone started autocorrecting all of my “mazal tovs” to “mazal TOVs,” making me appear either incredibly enthusiastic, 70 years old, or both.

But that shrinks in comparison to my oddest, most common, and most embarrassing autocorrect.

If there’s one word I use more than “mazal tov,” it’s “justice.” And every time I write “justice,” it autocorrects to “jolly rancher.”

So “pursue justice” turns into “pursue jolly rancher.”

“The importance of social justice” turns into “the importance of social jolly rancher.”

“Systems of justice” turns into “systems of jolly rancher.”

I once wrote this to a rabbi — check out the picture.

And, in a bizarre twist, the only way I can actually type “justice” (and keep it that way) is by mistyping it as “justic” and then accepting the correction to “justice.” That’s right — if I want to type the word correctly, I have to type it incorrectly.

You don’t even want to know what Siri thought I meant when I wanted to tell my roommate “happy holiday” in Hebrew: “Chag sameach.” Use your imagination.

And if you figure it out, mazal TOV!

Uggghhh.

A fanny pack of one’s own

My new travel companion.

A keen follower of this blog might observe that this not my first post or even my second post about fanny packs. Is it possible that I might be the only person in history to devote more than 1,500 words over several years to these lovable waist purses that the haters hate hate hate?

In June 2012, in “Bring back the pack,” I wrote about my deep desire to make fanny packs “a thing” again. A few months later, in August, I wrote about how my cousin Jeanne read my fanny pack blog and bought me an adorable shrinkable runners’ fanny pack that holds keys and a phone. I even borrowed my mom’s fanny pack on a trip to Disney World.

But this past weekend, I decided it was time for me to own my own full-sized fanny pack — not just for runners, but one that I can really wear all day, all night. I’ll wear it on my walks around Chicago neighborhoods, when traveling, and any time my shoulders have just given up on supporting the mini-Walgreens I carry around with me.

I am 28 years old. I have a full-time job that I love. I’m getting married to my dream guy in October. I have many wonderful friends. I am at a point in my life where I think I can afford to let my inner fanny-pack-dorkiness shine. Hey, world! If you don’t like my fanny pack, well, maybe you’ve got some problems of your own that you’re dealing with on the inside and don’t you dare blame it on my amazing shoulderless carryall. This is MY life.

But somehow I think the revival of the pack still hasn’t quite gained momentum, and over the weekend I visited every single store on State Street in Chicago, disappointed with the blatant lack of packs.

Dejected on the bus ride home, I turned to the anti-State Street: Online shopping. I found the perfect fanny pack for a mere $7 that came in a variety of colors (though I decided to just get black — let’s not get too crazy all at once).

I would like to share with you one of the online reviews of my new fanny pack that arrived this week.

This fanny pack completes me.
By Carlos

So I was hesitant on purchasing this fanny pack. But let me tell you. This fanny pack completes me. As a 34-year-old adult male, I have no idea why I have never used one before. The moment I heard it “click,” I knew I was a fanny packer for life.

Everything I need to carry with me is one zipper away from me. My keys, my gum, money, nail clippers, my bottle of Tabasco sauce. It’s all right there bellow my waist.

I have to tell you that every time I hear that click of completion, I feel like Batman suiting up to fight crime, the only difference is I’m not fighting a crime, I’m living my life (thanks to this fanny pack).

Sometimes people will glance at it and I get the impression that they just don’t understand the life of a fanny packer. I can only think that this is the same way batman feels when people look at him.

If I could wear two of them, I would, I just don’t have that much stuff to carry.

Get one today!

Europe, I’m coming for you in a few weeks. The people of London, Amsterdam, and Belgium are going to look at me and say, “WOW! Who is that amazingly beautiful and stylish girl with gym shoes and a fanny pack? She walks like she owns this place. There’s no way she can be a tourist. She must be a model.” See you soon, European fashionistas.

Politicians on cell phones

Politicians sure must spend a lot of time on the phone.

 

It seems like I hear it on the news all the time. Obama didn’t call Netanyahu to congratulate him on being re-elected as Israeli prime minister. Romney called Obama to concede the election. World leaders are constantly calling each other.

I would just like to know: How do they do it?

The first picture in this post has a subheading that says, “Bibi still waiting by the phone.” Am I right picture him looking something like this?

Here’s how these phone calls probably happen.

Obviously they text each other first.

Obama (via text): hey bibi, u free? wanted 2 say congratz on the win.”

Netanyahu (via text): oh yeah lol, thx, [happy emoticon alien]. im driving right now, can u call in 5 min?”

Obama: (via text): kkthxbye

When the time comes to make the call, Obama whips out his iPhone and says, “Siri, call Bibi Netanyahu. … No, don’t search for Bambi on the internet search engine Yahoo!. Call Benjamin Netanyahu.”

Netanyahu answers the phone. “Pizza Hut, how may I help you? … Nah, just kidding, what’s up, Barack?”

“Barack???” Obama says. “You must have the wrong number, because I’m Ruth Bader Ginsburg!”

They go on to chat for a few minutes, but then Netanyahu says, “Sorry, I’m in a bad cell area, I might lose you!”

They play phone tag for a few more minutes (clearly they haven’t read my Caller Calls Back blog) and then they’re back. They chat for a while.

And then: “You hang up first,” “No YOU hang up first.”

In my mind, I am imagining it to be extremely adorable. But if I want to find out the truth, should I just try to call Barack on his cell directly? Nah, I should probably text him first.

A reminder from myself

[Text message notification.]

Wow, I got a text message! Who could it be from? Is it my friend texting to make a plan to work out together? Is it Adam, texting to say hello? Is it my mom, just practicing her newfound texting skills?

Nope. It’s Lia from the Past: “Bring Kleenex to work tomorrow.” Earlier in the day, I ran out of tissues, and in this ever-chilly weather, I needed to remember to bring more. So, a few hours earlier, I sent a text message to Lia from the Future and scheduled it for 10 p.m., a time when I knew I’d be home but not yet asleep.

Bril-lia-nce, right?

I love, love, love the “schedule message” feature of my text message app. I can send a text to myself or anyone else and specify the time for it to be sent.

“Lia, can you remind me tomorrow to call my cousin for her birthday?” a coworker might ask. “Sure, what time would you like the reminder?” And there and then, I’ll schedule a text so we can both forget about it and move on with our lives. Tomorrow, at the appropriate time, my coworker will get her reminder, and for me, the memory of this conversation will be miles away.

I know that I could create a reminder on my calendar app, or a general phone reminder, or a task with a deadline, or probably any number of reminder tools. But for me, this works. I never forget to bring lip balm or gym shoes or my checkbook or whatever it is that I need; and I don’t have to deal with thousands of Post-It Notes that inevitably lose their stickiness somewhere in the parking lot on the way to my car.

iPhone users: Do you have this capability on your phones? So far, I have yet to find any iPhone users who are able to schedule a text (yet another reason why my Samsung Galaxy deserves some R-E-S-P-E-C-T). If not, well, let me know if you need me to remind you of anything.

Here’s how it works, at least on my Galaxy:

1. Choose someone to text, be it Future You or Future Your Friend, and go to your text message conversation with that person
2. Click on the setting button (three dots)
3. Press “schedule message” and choose your date and time (it must be in the future, because, as they say, “the past is in the past!”)
4. Sit back, relax, and wait for this text message time capsule to come alive

Can someone remind me tomorrow to post this blog entry on Facebook around noon?