Hackers and Words


Hacked! That was the word all over Facebook this morning.

"Hacked!" My friends cried. "You've been hacked!"

Thankfully they were not talking about my Facebook (hacked Facebook = embarrassment). However, they were discussing my e-mail account. All my contacts received spam. While they did not all go into detail about what they received, my mother did. And let me just say that it was the sort of link my mother shouldn't click on, even if it wasn't spammy.

I immediately changed my password, so if you are one of the contacts that received mail from fake-hacker-Race, the problem should be over. While I was on my account, I also updated my security settings. The goal of course is to not be hacked again. The reality will be me searching through papers on my desk when I need to check my e-mail, because I have forgotten the new password. I will fumble around in fear that I will not be able to continue living and because of this fear I really won't be able to continue living.

Hackers. They are practically terrorists.

But the point of this is that as I was updating my security, I saw a nifty link that, when clicked, took me to a far niftier page that outlined the recent use of my account. Here I saw a suspicious looking log-in that occurred in France (suspicious because I have not been to France recently - or ever - to my knowledge).


                                               


I decided to do some more research. I Googled "hacker" and came to this photo above. Apparently, the hacker decided mid-hack that his hand looked really sexy and he just *needed* to take a quick picture. From this I gathered hackers are vain creatures. I then became more specific and Googled "French hacker." This turned up results of some dude who hacked Obama's account somewhere and, also, pictures of Ashton Kutcher.

A Google of "hackers are rude," resulted in pictures of Justin Bieber.

A Google of "hackers are mean," resulted in pictures of a cat sitting on a keyboard.

A Google of "why was I hacked :( " made me feel stupid.

I then Googled "procrastination," and I think at this point you know why. This hacker had not only disrupted my communications with the outside world but had also torn me away from my writing. And on a very important day at that. Today, my happy friends, was the day I finished this round of edits of TB. It was the least convenient day for distractions and I was not a happy camper.

After I left the hacker experience behind me, I found myself on Facebook again, this time playing the evil games that lurk there and try to lure you into their caves. I played Bingo Blitz and Solitaire Blitz and Words with Friends and every other game that kept sending me requests. Of course I blamed the hacker. If it hadn't been for him, I would have gotten my game-fix earlier in the day instead of spending the morning replying to "you've been hacked" messages.

After Facebook I went ahead and made my chapter formatting look pretty, then I went to my e-mail to check on things before going to Youtube. Of course this was also the hacker's fault.

After Youtube I was back on Facebook. Hacker's fault again.

Finally at 7pm I took a walk. I sat down and had food. I opened TB and finished the read-through and the edits. I reformatted my chapters (let's face it, they were messy again) and sent the thing to Natalie.

Then I decided to blog about my hacker.

Really, my whole day was so consumed with the French hacker (who I've now decided is cute, with curly hair and dark eyes but who is completely full of himself and obsessed with show tunes) that I couldn't enjoy the accomplishment of finishing my edits. Look at what I'm blogging about! Not the wonderful feeling of having figured out nasty plot snags and boring prose but the frustration of being fooled by a computer nerd. This post does not have a single LOLCat in it. Does this seem like me at all? No. Really, you have no way of being sure this is really Race. Blogger could have been hacked. Is nothing sacred?

Watch yourselves, friends. The French are out to get us all.


Race


ps: Maybe they are upset I chose to learn Spanish instead of French for my second language credits? A thought...