Life Hack: Passwords

A few weeks ago my mother was complaining about the password requirements of some website.  You have to have a number, a special character, a capitalized letter, an uncapitalized letter, your social security number, blood of a virgin, dragonskin, and the picture of an evolution-believing Republican.  And you need to change it every 9 days and 11 hours or your credit cards will be mailed to Antarctica.

Passwords are the bane of my existence, but they weren’t always.  I used to love passwords.  I have a weird memory and so I applauded myself on my ability to come up with bizarre combinations of dead pet names and number sequences that meant nothing to anyone else.  My favorite password was actually assigned to me by my website hosting company.  Just a random sequence of letters that I managed to memorize.  I was bizarrely proud of that, much like I’m proud I remember my best friend’s (from fourth grade) phone number and address.  In Montana.  I don’t think I’ve called or written her a letter in over 20 years, but I still remember them.  Zip code too.

I have a weird memory.  Continue reading

Being a Writer: Weird Thing #4324793

I use the notes application on my phone to write things down from time to time.  Sometimes I write ideas for stories, sometimes I record overheard bits of conversation or found language which I can use for stories… sometimes other things.

This… I don’t know what this is:

From December 4, 2013 4:07 PM

Fuck you. Please be gentle.

Once there was an ugly barnacle. He was so ugly that everyone died. The end.

? ? They were infected. ZOMBIES…”

I do not remember writing this. Which leads me to the inevitable conclusion that my phone is haunted.

The Places From Which My Mother Has Watched Football

Today the Broncos play the Patriots in the AFC Championship.  My mother will not be watching.  Not because she’s not interested in the game, or its outcome, far from it.  My mother has been a fan of Peyton Manning, the Broncos quarterback, since he started at the University of Tennessee back in 1994.  My mother skipped visiting me one Parents’ Weekends because she had tickets to a Vols game.  I should add that the Parents’ Weekend in question was the same weekend as my birthdayContinue reading

Et F****** Cetera

The original title of this post was called ‘How to Have a Happy SAD’.  The format then changed a bit, so I changed the title, but I needed to write this little intro bit here so that the line that follows made more sense.

It always amused me that Singles Awareness Day (aka Valentine’s Day) can be abbreviated to SAD.  Tonight I realized that the same is true of Social Anxiety Disorder.

I do not have Social Anxiety Disorder.  What I do have is shyness and general problems with fear, self-loathing, and other conditions which can be summed up under the term ‘Writer.’  What I also have is an ability to pretend to be someone else.  At least for a while.  Continue reading

The Evolution of SpamBots

I’m always amused by spambots.  At first they were all about the penis enlargement or prescription drugs and then they moved on to excessively complimenting me on the information I provided and assured me that they had bookmarked my blog for future perusal (a promise I can believe in given the frequency of our interactions) but now they’ve switched tactics: accusing me of privilege!

Does your comment improve upon the silence? Then why comment? I don’t understand? why you have to talk like you’re unhappy about the fact that this lecture isn’t catered to you or something. You should be grateful to even have this information available to you because people used to PAY in the past just to SIT and LISTEN, but some people just don’t comprehend because they’ve had life served to them on a platter.

Is this a sign that the bots are becoming aware of social justice?  Trolling YouTube for hateful speech and giving them a what-for?

I may have marked you for deletion this time, Ms. Spam Bot of Intersectionality, but I am listening.  Fight on.