laddermemes

In which our Hero is extraordinarily prescient, extraordinarily precise, but doesn’t do nearly so well with being correct (but if this was baseball, two out of three would make him a rock star)

You could learn a thing or two from my lady Nocturne. Despite the occasional inconveniences that it creates when I’m trying to provide remote technical support, she’s got a strong sense of computer hygiene. The less you install, and the more you make work using the tools you already have, the lower the risk profile as far as getting afflicted with viruses and such.

As I’ve said, however, it also makes for a challenge when we’re trying to do something remotely. Simple things like sending her a movie so we can watch it together. Or a document so she can read it over for me. Sadly, the most convenient methods for sending files between people either require a server or they just tend to be a little bit flaky and intolerant of interruption.

But a while ago, I added a tool to my kit (Dropbox.com, though there are several alternatives). The idea is that it lets you create a folder on your local computer that gets mirrored to a server online, making for a handy backup. More interesting, it lets you hook up a second computer to that online storage and suddenly you have a common space that maps across all your computers. Across all your devices, I suppose I should say, since I also use it to share ebooks from my computer to my phone.

The other feature that makes it interesting is that I can create a folder inside that mirrored folder and share it with other people. And having used it to share with a coworker, I thought that it was all-in-all pretty keen and so I took the liberty of setting up an account for Nocturne, just in case we ever had the need. (Plus that way it was just using a disposable email of mine without sharing her credentials).

That was months ago. And until Friday, there wasn’t an occasion where we really needed this tool. But as a relatively small file persistently refused to transfer, I offered this option, and she admitted it might be helpful and agreed to install it. So I told her I’d set up an account for her already and scored some points for being thoughtful.

Except I couldn’t remember the password I’d picked before, so I reset the account and picked a password based on what we’d been talking about. Let’s say “laddermemes.” I typed in the password carefully. Repeated it in the confirmation box. And then typed it into instant messenger so that she could log in.

“It doesn’t work,” she said.

But I just used it to log in. Let me try again

So I typed in the account I’d picked for her, and the password. And it worked.

“It still doesn’t work,” she told me.

I just logged in with it. Did you get the user wrong?

“I typed what you told me.”

Here, I’m trying it again. User.. N- O- C- T- U- R- N- E- Password.. L- A- D- D- E- R- M- E- M- S—

I’m going to interrupt my own speech to explain that at this point I was already conscious that what I’d said wasn’t right. So I was already laughing as I successfully logged in with the misspelled password.

“You’re writing about this! You think you’re so smart about passwords but this is the second time you’ve pretended a mistake was something you did on purpose.”

I was still laughing.

“No! You’re telling them about this!”

I am. But for the record this wouldn’t have happened if she’d just given me a new password like I asked. Or if I could type. (Although technically, I can type. Because I typed the password exactly the same wrong way 4 times in a row. Go me!!)