It all started when I tried to put the Blogging University icon on my blog page. I can’t remember how I even tried to do it. All I know is that on my blog page the icon didn’t fit. Part of the icon was cut off and I was too embarrassed to go the Commons and ask another blogger how to fix it. I think it was another sign from the blogging gods that I should accept the fact I am in over my head. Now a week later I have to admit defeat and dropout of Blogging 101. I failed because I am too old to keep up with the technology and the strange terminology. I would like to confess that I don’t understand “link back.” On Day Twelve our assignment was to increase our commenting. I was so excited for this assignment because I love to get comments (positive ones anyway). I was so ready to leave comments until the assignment directed me to “link back” to the original post. I don’t even know what “link back” means. I can barely link forward. My first posting for Blogging 101 I didn’t share the correct linking address. A fellow classmate was kind enough to point this out to me. My wrong link, linked to nowhere. How embarrassing is that? I guess it could have been worse. It could have linked to a Persian kitty porn site. I did manage to eventually get the right linking address to my blog. So now when I post a link I test the link so many times my computer crashes. On Day Fourteen the assignment was to extend the Blog’s Brand with a custom site icon or a custom image widget. I am clueless and I am sorry but the definitions didn’t help me at all. What is an “avator?” I thought that was a gaming system. What is a “widget?” I thought that was a hoop you shot the croquet ball through. Whatever widgets are, mine came with wings. One innocent little click and the widget flies to a different place on my page or flies off the page completely. I confess that I am afraid to monkey around with PicMonkey. This is coming from someone who has never been on Shutterfly or Snapfish. My son, Nik, is really very patient with me when it comes to answering tech questions, except in the case of Adobe Photoshop. I think I called him once and asked what “shrink to fit” means. He started to explain about size and space but I wasn’t understanding one word of the explanation. Being as patient as possible he threw in an analogy. He said it was like when you buy a pair of new jeans and after you wash them the first time you put them in the dryer to shrink so they fit better. I snapped back, “You aren’t helping. I haven’t had to shrink jeans since I was 12.” The next time he came home to visit he locked me out of Photoshop and threatened to disable WordArt.
I guess you just can’t teach “an old dog new tricks”. My best explanation of this is getting gas at the gas station. When I was “just born” I remember that my mom would drive into a gas station, drive over a hose on purpose and roll down the window as a guy approached the vehicle. Dangerously, strange behavior, right? Let me explain. [Some of my blog friends will understand the explanation, but I am telling you don’t admit it.] When my mom drove over the rubber hose you would hear a clinging bell sound. This sound would alert the person working on a car in the garage of the gas station to come out to the vehicle that just pulled up to the pumps. My mom rolled the window down to say to the helpful gas station attendant “filler up and check the oil and water.” And he did!!!! Believe it or not my mom could stay in the car while the guy unscrewed the gas cap, wrestled the nozzle into the gas tank and then popped the hood of the car to check the oil. He kept an old rag in his back pocket so that he could wipe off the dipstick and get an accurate measure if the car needed a quart of oil or not. All this time my mom could leisurely sit in the car and yell at us kids and the six neighbor kids to sit still and stop hitting each other. They guy collected the money through the window. My mom drove off with completely clean hands, a full tank of gas and no oil level worries. I was actually thinking of all this yesterday when I had to get gas in my car because for some reason I never remember to look at the pump number where I am filling up the tank. NEVER So once again this is the conversation I have with the clerk inside the store after I dripped gasoline on my shoes and got grease all over my hands.
Clerk: What pump are you on?
Me: The one right out there.
Clerk: Lady, all our pumps are right out there. What number are you on?
Me: I forgot to look at the number.
Clerk: OK then what make or model is your car?
Me: It’s grey
Clerk: How much was the total gas amount?
Me: About as half as much as it was last year at this time.
Eventually we get it figured out. I pay and then ask if he could please punch my gas refill card. He looks me straight in the eye, grabs the hole puncher, and clenches his jaws. He is just dying to say, “Lady I would love to give you a punch.” Sad, but true, I can guarantee you that the next time I get gas I will NOT remember to look at the pump number.
Now if you will excuse me, this old dog is going to try and bark up some brands, wag up some widgets, and growl at some gravatars.