I don't mean to go on about technology and me but it's quite simple that the two definitely don't mix. I'm fast approaching a half century and I've witnessed many changes in recent years. I'm still coming to terms with scleroderma, decimalisation, metric conversion and puberty! No surprise then, I'm quite useless with a computer.
Yes! it was a near catastrophe when my old system gave up the ghost. I'd suspected the worst for a while and short of taking a hammer to the CPU I gave up trying to recover files. It was taking forever to log on, I could quite happily go and make tea and perhaps bake bread before I heard the welcome to the net announcement.
Enough was enough and finally I went on a quest to find the perfect replacement. Why is it the young man in the shop automatically assumes I'm computer literate. Megabytes and Gigs mean nothing to me! And when he began to explain the complexity of adding programmes and my daughter's new MP3 player I just smiled and kept my rather large mouth shut. So with a new laptop tucked under my arm I began an unexpected journey setting up my new system.
The old way was simple -- insert disc, load the programme and "Ping" I was on line. To my horror It said, "No." My system was a new window version and my old disk was out of date by about 6 years.
"Arrggh" more frustration as I found myself on the phone to my ISP. Now if I knew what I was talking about to begin with the whole conversation would have been straight forward but, hey! this is me you're dealing with not Stephen Hawkings!
In the end I understood they would send me a new updated version of the installation disk which I recieved 2 days later.
Disk inserted and so far so good, then it asked for a password -- err what! They'd sent me the disk but no password. Sure I had my own password but that wasn't what they were asking for. I rang them, again this time was to be the most frustrating phone call I've ever made.
I'm not good at following computer instructions -- Shelley will testify to that when we first set up the blog site, I believe she's still recieving treatment and pills for that encounter. It's not easy either when the person you are talking to speaks broken English. I was on the phone for over an hour and to make things worse, I couldn't find all the keys on my keyboard that they kept asking for on account of my inexperience with a new machine. I must have sounded like a real nerd as they kept asking me to find the key that said delete or the little red box with a cross in it at the top of the page. In the end, the conversation became so heated that the supervisor took over and from then on in I think he was on the whiskey.
The ISP folks went home early that day but they got me online in the end. I think they will use that call as a training excercise on how not to handle a computer illiterate freak like me. If you had to have a licence to use one of these things I'd be banned for life!
Good to be back!