It’s a scary world out there – the cyberworld that is. One wrong click and your blog could land on a Russian hacker’s screen. He might have connections with the Bratva, Russia’s mafia, who has Putin in their pocket. (Or it might be the other way around. I haven’t watched John Oliver lately so I lost track.) Then Putin could attempt to influence all three of my followers and swing the local school board election in favor of the candidates who favor Siberian tiger hunting and vodka distilling as electives. This could make America more Russia friendly.
Not that I’m an alarmist, but that’s what (or something as disturbing) rattled around my brain, as I was about to respond to the “Verification” email that WordPress sent. It had rattled around in my brain four times on four separate occasions. There was a good chance that I had multiple inactive WordPress accounts under various email addresses waiting to be hacked as soon as I responded. I, for one, was not going to contribute to the downfall of American democracy!
I needed a book! I chose WordPress For Dummies. (If the shoe fits . . .)
WordPress had been touted as user friendly, but I believed it depended on the user. I found it to be user cordial. Cordial in how I might interact with a friend of a friend, an acquaintance. Not friendly like, well, a friend.
When a friend asks me how I am, I relate in self-deprecating anecdotes about the quarrel with my neighbor, the sump pump that won’t turn on, and the injury sustained mashing cauliflower. In response the friend will take my side, pass along the name of a plumber, and Google a recipe for roasted brussels sprouts right after pouring me a glass of Merlot.
When an acquaintance asks how me how I am, I reply “just fine,” smile, and find my own bottle of wine. Trust hasn’t been established yet. We need to get to know each other better.
That was my plan for WordPress. I bought Dummies to familiarize myself with the program- make an acquaintance into a friend. One I could trust.
It didn’t happen.
Reading about plugins and domains and widgets is not the same as committing to them when faced with the WordPress dashboard and a string of menus with drop down boxes.
I needed a tutor!
I emailed everyone I knew who was comfortable with technology. Some forwarded tutorial websites. (I needed a teacher in the flesh.) Others recommended tutors who worked remotely. (I needed one to sit next to me so I could ask dumb questions.) I found one in Amy! An in the flesh WordPress tutor who didn’t flinch when I rapid fired dumb questions. There wasn’t one eye roll or head slap. She refused wine until we were through for the day. (I suspected she craved a midmorning glass when she found out what she had gotten herself into.)
I played Igor to Amy’s Dr. Frankenstein. I typed in commands, nodded vaguely to theme designs, and deleted the extraneous WordPress accounts under her guidance. I fetched and carried and cut and pasted, but Amy brought the creation to life.
Then she left.
I’m on my own posting my second entry. I feel like Igor fumbling around the lab while the doctor is out. Trying to add a cleft chin to the creation and hoping not to put out an eye.
If you’re reading this, I succeeded. If you’re not, Siberian tiger hunting might turn up in the local high school’s catalog next fall.