Short Attention Span Girl » tech

Remember when the word google had nothing to do with the internet?

Melleny — Sat, 10 Nov 2007 19:17:03 +0000

Today, in a desperate attempt to post something, anything, that requires very little effort, I will reveal the glorious effects when I Google myself. I recommend you trying this on yourself, but it might not work so well if your name isn’t as weird (or at least as weirdly spelled) as mine.

When I type in my first and last name, I discover things I didn’t realize or remember, and I’m a little surprised that I have more than one page of goodies. Evidently I have a ScrapBlog and a ScrapBio, probably created back when I actually made scrapbook pages and labored under the cruel delusion that someday the world might want to share in the awesomeness that is my craftiness.

My LinkedIn thing also pops up. There’s some Zonta deal that lists me as a member, and a few things from the school district and high school where I taught. Newsletters and board meeting minutes and junk like that.

I’m reminded that I submitted ideas to a site called Writing Fix, because that shows up as the fourth item in the list. And I have some kind of freelance writer/editor portfolio that I must have created recently, given the address attached to it, but I don’t recall creating such a thing even vaguely.

Page 2 of the Google listings shows an interesting bit from the German version of Amazon.com. My name is clearly mentioned, but I’m not sure why, as I can’t read German. Some kind of profile (or profil) of me, it seems. And I guess I’m a Top Reviewer on Amazon because I submitted two reviews, one for a book that I don’t even remember reading. I appallingly used way too many exclamation points, which might be why I don’t write Amazon reviews anymore.

Oh, and then somewhere down the list is my infant vision article. Well, not actually the article. My article is referenced on some website written in Spanish. I’m sure if I continued to scroll through the pages, or searched by my initials instead of full first name, I’d find the actual article, or at least an abstract of it. Exciting stuff.

Then, for some reason, the section of my photo gallery that has pictures of my pets pops up.

Well, all this excitement has worn me out. It seems like seeing myself in lights for all these inane “accomplishments” should spur me into writing an ebook, finishing my mystery novel, or at least becoming a spectacular celebrity stalker, but no. It makes me want to curl up in anonymity and hope none of the hiring managers I’m pimping myself out to actually try Googling my name.

There’s a demon in the kitchen drawer

Melleny — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 02:40:13 +0000

Generally, I’m a fan of progress. Technological advancements are usually good, because they’re usually improvements, a way to make life easier, or at least less annoying. Text messaging allows me to communicate long-distance without sharing my conversation with everyone else in the grocery line. Electric toothbrushes make my dentist happy. Double-sided tape saves us from making endless tape loops to put a poster on the wall.

But there’s one so-called advancement that I protest. It has caused me nothing but frustration, heartache, and stinky hands. It is the “safe edge” can opener. I like to call it the can’t opener.

It’s not that I’m against safe edges (although I do think that people lacking the mental fortitude and foresight to grip a sharp metal disc anywhere but the sharp edge deserve what they get). My complaints with this nasty little device are threefold:

1. Eliminating the sharp edge on the lid means the sharp edge is merely relocated to the can itself. You’re cutting metal, folks. There’s gonna be a sharp edge somewhere.

2. The contraption is nigh impossible to use. I’m no Mensa member, but come on. It has no mechanics for gripping the can or the lid, and I don’t find it efficient to have to make five circuits to get one clean cut. At that point, I may as well be chewing through the can.

3. Since the lid is cut around the outer edge of the can, it becomes too big to fit inside for purposes of tidy disposal or draining liquid off tuna. Try it sometime, and see how much fun it is to be carefully wedging half of the lid into the can, pressing it against the tuna as well as can be done in such a situation, only to get drenched by tuna water shooting out the top side.

So I’ll leave this particular technological advancement to the people who can’t operate the good old fashioned can kind of opener. Then they can feel smart about not getting cut up, and I can feel smart about not smelling like tuna.

Welcome to the 21st century

Melleny — Mon, 10 Jan 2005 00:57:41 +0000

So I thought I was somewhat capable when it came to technology. I’ve smirked at the teachers who can’t seem to grasp the leap from Mac to PC, who go into a state of shock at the idea of a mouse with more than one button. I can do pretty much anything I need to do on a computer, or at least I thought I could. But now I’m in Internet-land, creation rather than navigation, and it is a very scary and lonely place to find yourself lost. I have been reduced to a tentative clicker, which is annoying. I have become the person who asks stupid questions which I could easily answer if only I had looked at the right part of the instructions. It feels somewhat like walking with cement shoes. On my feet and my hands. In a foreign country. And I’m deaf.

So, we’ll see how this works out. It may continue to look exactly as it looks right now, or I might gain some bit of vital knowledge that makes the whole thing seem intuitive. More likely, it will be somewhere in the middle, with me nervously pecking at keys and scrutinizing the screen, keeping my toes crossed that I don’t make the whole thing implode.