The world seems to believe I’m made entirely out of magnets. This week, everything I touch seems to be going screwy; my mobile phone keeps claiming it doesn’t have a SIM card, my PC decides it doesn’t feel like starting up, my washing machine floods everything… and I can’t be the only one having non-stop problems with Firefox, can I?

Bah. I’m torn between trying to fix everything, and just going back under my duvet til things decide to work again. (Or until Mozilla sorts out Firefox, at any rate.)

So, Facebook has added a chat function to its social networking site. It’s currently being rolled out across the site’s thousands of users, but will eventually be available to everyone, displaying in a bar at the bottom of the page and allowing users to talk to their friends in real time, rather than via messages or wall posts.

MySpace has had a similar service for donkey’s, and Gmail’s chat function will let your AOL or Gmail contacts talk to you in real time, too. (And anyone you e-mail at a Gmail address automatically gets added to your contact list, aggravatingly, so if you don’t want someone to know you’re online and be able to contact you, you’ll have to take ‘em back off.)

While I’m not being forced to use Facebook Chat, obviously, and I can choose to be signed out/invisible on all of these services, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed. It’s possible that I’m mildly OCD - I really hate having multiple programs hanging around that essentially serve the same purpose, and I already use MSN Messenger. I guess I just don’t see the point, and am frustrated with having to always turn things off, instead of on. Facebook is enough of a pestering-machine as it is, what with the constant stream of application invitations and the “poke” function; adding a chat function is overkill.

What’s the point of using a social networking site to IM, anyway? The two are different and, in my opinion anyway, should be kept separate.

The fun never ends when you’re me. Having finally moved house and almost completely unpacked, I came down with some kind of space virus - and, of course, having only just moved to my new flat, I hadn’t managed to register with a doctor yet. Luckily, my wireless connection had been set up, so I could use my Google-fu to track down the nearest doctor’s surgery to my house. (What Google Maps didn’t tell me, sadly, was that the nearest surgery was at the top of a hill. My symptoms included being tired all the time, being short of breath, and having a nasty, burning cough. A 0.65 mile walk up a hill was not what I most wanted in the world on Friday morning, I have to say!)

Skipping over various amounts of hilarious slapstick comedy involving bureaucracy and my inability to memorise maps correctly: I finally got registered with a doctor yesterday. And was diagnosed with laryngitis. Since there aren’t any drugs for this, I’ve basically got to inhale steam with a towel over my head, drink lots of water, rest, and … not talk.

That last part is killing me. See, I can talk - my voice is all crackly and occasionally drops three octaves or comes out in an unexpected whisper, but I can move my lips and tongue and make sound come out more or less normally, and more or less intelligibly. But I’m not supposed to. The alternatives I’ve tried so far involve the following:

- Sending messages on Facebook
- Sending e-mails (occasionally to my boyfriend, while he’s in the room)
- Writing on bits of paper
- Inventing my own sign language

However! I’ve just discovered this, a demo version of IBM’s Websphere Voice text-to-speech software. I can type almost as fast as I can speak, so, assuming I don’t want to move from my desk chair for the next couple of days, this might be the winner.

Or I’ll probably just give up and talk, because I clearly can’t be trusted with anything like my own health. Pfft.

(On the bright side, my new doctor has an online way to book appointments and request repeat prescriptions. Why don’t all doctors have this? That’s brilliant!)

As predicted, getting the broadband sorted out in the new flat is taking a long, long time. Why is it that it seems to take so long for someone somewhere to flip a switch? Grrrr. Not having Internet access on tap is making me realise how much I really take it for granted - I need to register for a doctor, but without Google, I’m at a loss. Happily, I no longer have to use the London Underground to get to work, but not being able to check the current state of the trains and traffic before I leave for work feels strange. And as for finding a local takeaway, well. I’m currently relying on the TV pages of the local paper.

The biggest low-tech shock, though, came when the washing machine broke down. Mid-cycle. I spent about half an hour trying to finish a load of soggy, cold laundry before giving up, bundling it into the car and taking it to a friend’s house instead. (So, thank you!) I never realised before just how essential a functioning washing machine is to comfortable life. It’s amazing.

Anyway, I’m aiming to get normal service up and running shortly, as soon as I’ve got my head around the fact that I don’t live in London any more, and that I can’t use my Oyster card at ticket barriers any more. (Tried that last night by mistake. Whoops.)

I can understand the appeal of e-cards: they’re free, instant, and if you want to send them internationally, it’s not a problem. There’s no messing about at the post office or trying to figure out when you need to post a card in order to have it delivered on the right day (does Valentine’s Day affect the post office in the same way Christmas does, for example?) - an e-mail is unlikely to get lost in the post, though it might conceivably get caught up in a spam filter.

But it seems Valentine’s Day, like every other event or holiday in the world, has become a target for malicious types. The latest incarnation of the Storm worm pretends to be an electronic Valentine’s card, and no doubt there’s lots of other malware and spam designed as shy greetings from secret admirers floating around out there on the interwebs. And all the warnings from security firms in the world won’t necessarily protect someone who’s feeling a bit down today and hoping against hope that that e-mail in their inbox might really be from someone they’ve got a crush on.

It all seems a bit mean, really. It’s cruel anyway, sending viruses disguised as news reports or greetings cards or whatever else, but somehow, malicious Valentine’s messages just seem that bit nastier.

It’s a bit late for this now, really, but if you’ve left it until today to sort out sending the object of your affections a token of your love - go and buy them a card from a shop, and deliver it by hand, okay? At least then they’ll know it’s not going to zombify their computer.

Apparently, all you need to do to sell things in February - no matter what the product is - is make a pink version. There’s a pink Blackberry Pearl; a pink iPod Nano; a heart-shaped mouse (which, okay, isn’t pink, but it doesn’t look particularly easy to use, either)… the list goes on.

I’ve said before that I actually like the colour pink, but I’m suffering from Valentine’s Day fatigue already. The most mind-boggling thing I’ve come across thus far is the paired t-shirts, pictured above. Available from ThinkGeek.com, the shirts detect their proximity to one another - too far, and the “life force” is depleted, but get up close and personal and the heart bar refills itself.

Can’t quite work out the point of that one, I must say. Valentine’s Day is still two weeks away - it’ll be fun to see what other unromantic products try to give themselves a lovey dovey makeover…

As an addendum to my previous post (Watch your nails on that keyboard, love) - well, I told you I’d written an e-mail to the Guardian. It got published in today’s Technology letters page.

Or, at least, some of it did.

I thought about letting this lie. I’d sent in my complaint, I’d blogged about the problem, I could ignore it and get over it, right? Well, wrong, because the editor of the Technology Guardian replied to my initial e-mail, and then several more times afterwards, and I ended up actually much more angry than I was initially. So let’s get this dirty washing out in the open, shall we?

Here’s the text of my initial e-mail:

Hiya,

I’m highly aware that I’m rapidly turning into my parents by writing letters to complain to newspapers, but what exactly was the thought process behind using the picture of the pink keyboard (see attached) on your article “How secure are your online passwords?”? ( http://www.guardian.co.uk/technology/2007/dec/06/onlinepasswordssecurity)

There’s nothing gender-specific in the article itself, and the security concerns laid out are relevant to both genders. It’s not an article aimed particularly at women (apart from being written by one). So it’s completely incongruous. That’s before issues about gender stereotyping and sexism - women only use PINK technology, right? And of course the only thing they’d need to use the internet for would be to shop? - even enter the equation.

Seriously, what’s going on there?

Considering the Guardian has run articles on how there’s still sexism rampant in the IT industry (among other industries..), using that picture just … doesn’t make sense. It’s re-enforcing all sorts of negative attitudes towards women, which really isn’t what I’d expect from the Guardian, of all papers. The Daily Mail, maybe. But from the Guardian, that’s just disappointing.

On a more positive note, the article itself was great. It’s just a shame that you chose to present it like that.

I also saved the offending picture to my computer, for use both in a blog post here and to attach to my complaint e-mail, for clarity’s sake.

This is what I got in response:

Hi..

thanks for your email. Pink keyboard? Never noticed it, myself. Did the
hands have nail varnish on too? Nah. I think you’re reading too much into
it.

Anyhow, we’d like to use your letter, all or in part, as a letter; we’d
need a full name and post town, please.

We do try to put all the usable letters we receive online on the Technology
blog even if we cannot print them in the newspaper itself.

If you do not want your message published (we will not publish your email,
only a name and post town) please say so.

best
Charles Arthur, editor, Technology

“All or in part” registered - and you’ll notice it was only a part of the e-mail that was published. As did the incredibly dismissive “Nah” he threw in there. I considered refusing to allow the e-mail to be published, because … honestly, because I was a bit embarrassed about the first e-mail. I was angry when I wrote it, trying not to come off like Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells, but nonetheless furious about the use of that picture. In the end, though, I figured I’d take any platform I was given, and replied:

Morning,

Well, no, I don’t think I’m reading too much into it, though I do think that was a pretty rudely dismissive reply! Not had your coffee yet?

You’re welcome to use the letter if you like - Sarah Dobbs, London.

Again, notice the fact that, for whatever reason, I’m desperately trying not to sound as angry as I feel; I don’t want to make him defensive, and it’s entirely possible that the editor didn’t choose the picture anyway. But seriously - it’s not okay for an editor to reply to his readers like that, is it? Another response dropped into my inbox:

Hi Sarah..

As it happens, I had had my coffee. But now I’ve gone and looked at
the picture you’re complaining about. (I had thought you were
complaining about the printed picture, which hasn’t got a keyboard at
all, now I look again.)

OK, so - looking at the ALT text on that picture, it says
alt=”Teenager’s hands on computer keyboard” width=”460″ height=”276″
That is, someone chose the picture just based on a few keywords from
the article. It’s not thinking “let’s do something stereotypically
suggesting women can’t set up strong passwords” - which would be
atypical in the Guardian anyway - but instead “what image suggests
using a computer to do typing?”

So that’s how. But thanks for the location too.

best
Charles Arthur, Editor, Technology

So - he didn’t read my e-mail properly but sent me a rude reply anyway? It’s not getting any better, is it?

Because I just don’t know when to quit, I replied:

Hiya,

I’m sure no-one did set out to be offensive, but the thing is, it was offensive. I’m happy to believe that picture was used entirely out of thoughtlessness, but that doesn’t really make it any better. And in fairness, I attached the picture in question to my initial e-mail as well as including the link to the online article.

And again:

Hi..

not to belabour this too much, but..

On 10 Dec 2007, at 15:35, Sarah Dobbs wrote:
>
> I’m sure no-one did set out to be offensive, but the thing is, it
> was offensive.

I disagree. You perceived it as offensive. If it had shown a blonde
woman with a finger to her mouth looking dopey, now, that would have
been obviously offensive (though the dictionary defines that word as
“causing someone to feel deeply hurt or angry”), because it would have
made a target where none existed in the copy.

This really doesn’t fall into that category, I don’t think. There are
people who do have nails like that, and there was *absolutely nothing*
in the story to suggest that women are more prone to having weak
passwords than men, or vice versa.

If it had been a picture of big builder’s sausage fingers, should
every man have felt it was pointing at them as somehow being dim over
passwords? The article didn’t even suggest that people (men or women)
do passwords badly; only that there are now really good ways to break
those you think are good (such as using the word “abstruse” or
“onomatopeia” as a password, which would get broken pretty fast
despite seeming good enough).

> I’m happy to believe that picture was used entirely out of
> thoughtlessness, but that doesn’t really make it any better.

My (female) chief sub this week says “it was naff” - with which I
think I’d agree. But no more than that. Else we’re getting into
teddybear territory.

> And in fairness, I attached the picture in question to my initial e-
> mail as well as including the link to the online article.

You did, and I apologise. In clemency, I plead webmail - the picture
doesn’t show inline, so viewing it would have meant another click, and
I was trying to do it at speed.
best
Charles Arthur, Editor, Technology

I don’t know where to start. Dictionary definitions? (And ones that prove my point, at that?) Getting in a member of the supposedly offended group to prove that obviously no-one could be offended coz my friend says so? It’s such a standard, obvious response to any complaint of offence that it’s exhausting to contemplate going over all the same old, tired arguments all over again. Here’s my response:

I think you’re still missing the point, though. The woman in the picture’s not typing, she’s using a keyboard with only one labelled key - with a shopping trolley on it.

Notice that’s what was edited out of the letter they printed. We’ve been through all of this before. I like pink. But I don’t like being condescended to, and I don’t like the assumption that women will only use technology if and because it’s pink, and I don’t like being treated like I’m stupid. All those boxes got ticked, didn’t they? Mr Arthur’s counterexample actually isn’t a parallel; the equivalent would be printing a picture of a man using a blue keyboard with only one button - a button with a football on it, or maybe a pint of beer. That’s sexist, as is the pink keyboard picture.

And that’s the bottom line here.

Oh, the perils of working from home. There’s no-one here to make coffee for me, and worse still, I’ve run out of milk. On the plus side, I’m blaring music out while I write, and not having to spend 40 minutes travelling this morning (well, it would have been more like two and a half hours if I’d tried to get to work today) meant I had time to do the washing up and put the vacuum round.

I’m so decadent.

No, but seriously, the current Tube strike is letting me finally feel justified in having bought a laptop, because I’m sitting at home, wirelessly connected to the Internet, with MSN Messenger open to talk to colleagues and my mobile phone by my side. It’s curiously liberating, and I’m kind of glad that I have the opportunity to try this out… but I think if this Tube strike goes on for too long, I’m going to start pining for the office.

Pathetic, right?

Spending a weekend sitting in the dark at a horror movie festival should have been a welcome break from the world of technology, but sadly, mobile phones are totally inescapable now. If it’s not the guy sitting behind you hastily trying to figure out which pocket his phone is in so he can turn it off before it completely ruins the ambience, it’s the daft characters in yet another daft slasher movie complaining that, shockingly, they’ve got no signal out here in the bayou/backwoods/up a tree/in a swamp/in the middle of an Arctic Tundra.

There was actually a film on about what would happen if all the world’s electronics decided to transmit a signal that would send us all crazy. But I digress.

I was actually going to write a list of inventions I wish I had. Because I’m a grumpy old spoilsport. So here they are:

- A device to turn off someone else’s mobile phone - useful not only in cinemas but also on buses

- A device to turn down the sound in the cinema because Sam Rockwell is SHOUTING really LOUDLY again about ABSOLUTELY NOTHING because it’s not scary, but wow, is it LOUD

- A free-paper-giver-outter-repeller

- A non-stop caffeine dispenser that doesn’t break down when you need it most (cinema coffee machine: why must you forsake me?)

I’d also like a fast forward button for when movies really, really suck, but I think my fellow cinemagoers might have something to say about that.

So, the iPhone’s been hacked, huh?