A Night of Tears and Universal Conspiracy
#60M2IM Day 20/100
Here’s why I put myself out there, even (at least sometimes) when I’d rather hole up and hide in my own little introverted Hobbit Hole somewhere.
Today was the last day of the Smarter Artist Summit.
It was completely awesome right up until lunch, or rather after lunch, when I pulled out my phone and had a concerned email from someone who’d noticed that my website had been hacked.
My. Website. Was. Hacked.
In the middle of a conference.
It looked fine, if you just went to it. But if you Googled it, it was obviously hacked. You got some Asian language, instead of my blog info in English.
I did the only thing I could think of: I called my host, who directed me to the service they use for clearing up hackings and such malicious intent.
I spoke the a very kind, very, very patient young man named Leon.
Leon had to be patient because I had a panic attack right in the middle of my discussion with him.
He told me that he could help and that I really needed to have a security system on my site, and it was all going to cost me 90 bucks a month. Since I had visions of tens of thousands (and maybe just shutting that shit down for good and moving for real to Medium) swimming in my head, I could have hugged him.
Instead, it suddenly occurred to me that since the hotel didn’t have good reception, the woman who answered the phone when I called took my number and two minutes later, Leon had called me.
I had no way of knowing if he was really who he said he was.
He said: “I’ve been doing this for a long time. Just let me help you.”
I said: “That’s exactly what a hacker would say.”
He said: “Really, Ma’am, I’m only here to help you. Why don’t I give you my direct line and you can call me back.”
I said: “That’s exactly what a hacker would say.”
I finally told him I needed to hang up and call back, so I was the one initiating the call, through my host. He treated me like you might treat an agitated crazy person and agreed that was a good idea.
I cried. I called my husband and cried some more.
Then I called Blue Host back and was connected with Leon’s service. Actually, directly to Leon. Because Leon isn’t a hacker. He’s a nice young man who was contracted by my host to help me save my website and just wanted to help me.
Anyway. We got that hacker shit shut down. Or at least started down that path. It’ll take a day or two for Google to get the message.
I got a great big fat neon sign about what a pain in the ass having my own website really is. And a dose of gratitude that I don’t have all of my eggs in that basket.
And after that was done, all I really wanted to do was go to bed (even though it was 6 p.m.)
If I was staying in a regular hotel, instead of a hostel with bunk beds and a very social public space, I might have done that.
Instead, I went to watch The Circle at the Alamo Drafthouse.
The Alamo Drafthouse has assigned seating and there weren’t any isolated, no-one-sit-next-to-me seats left. I picked row three, seat four.
On one side of me was Josh and his girlfriend, Jennifer, who were two glasses of wine in each by the time I got there. They introduced themselves to me. Josh told me that Jennifer had a super silly laugh. Josh’s girlfriend told me that he had gas.
On the other side of me was a young man named Unique. He told me about being a digital nomad for a year, doing social media work for big companies while he roamed.
Unique asked me about my conference and I told him I was a writer. He got all excited. Then Josh got all excited, and asked if he could Snap me. It took a minute for me to realize what Snap me meant, then next thing I knew I was on Snapchat for the first time.
Both of my neighbors bought my book.
Unique spent the time during the previews scribbling away on a little piece of paper. After the movie he gave me the notes he’d taken — advice on using social media. And his card.
Then I went to Target to pick something up. I shoved my key in my pocket, so I wouldn’t have to dig through my backpack to find it. When I came back out, my rental car’s trunk was open. Apparently, I engaged it when I put my key in my pocket.
No one stole my computer, which was the only thing back there.
There are malicious hackers in the world. But there are more Leons and Joshs and Uniques and people who shop at Target and don’t steal computers out of accidentally opened trunks.
Today, the Leons and Joshs and Jennifers and Uniques and non-thief Target shoppers win.
I love when the Universe conspires to remind me that humanity tips the balance toward awesome, in general.
Day: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19.
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