Friday, January 19, 2007

Wherein I Prove I Should Be Writing This Blog with Quill and Parchment

Well, I’m seriously beginning to question my boss’, Kanga’s, sanity.

Yesterday he deemed it a good idea to give the new girl, the English major, ME, the project of moving our domains. Now, I barely knew what a domain was. (Although, if I understand it correctly, it’s kind of the shoebox for your website. … with your website being the shoe. And the shoebox says “Manolo Blahnik” on it, so that the world wide web can see just exactly where you buy your footwear. Or maybe it’s a plot of land, and your website is the house. That’s more accurate, seeing as how, without your domain, your website will just float around, lost, in cyberspace. As we shall soon see. [Also, I realize your house would not necessarily “float” without your plot of land. It would more “sink halfway to China before it was vaporized by molten lava and heavy Earth and whatnot,” which is waaaaay cooler than cyberspace, but I digress….])

Meanwhile, it turns out ol’ Kanga is something of a domain whore, owning dozens of domains, all registered at different places. My job was to consolidate them on one server, and under one account, and point them all to one site in particular… yawn! me, too, I’m bored already, so we’ll skip to the part wherein I go, “Fuck, our website’s gone.”

And then, “Fuck. Our e-mail also appears to be not working.”

And things spiraled out of control from there.

Finally, after a few held back tears and e-mails to my sister-in-law, who used to be on the Best Buy Geek Squad, wherein we placed bets on whether I was going to be fired by the end of the day or not, we deduced that yeah, that was quite a pickle I had gotten myself into, but really, where on my resume, between “writing press releases” and “minimal copyediting experience” did Kanga think it said, “Great with technology- test me!”?

So we blamed him, and sis assured me no one would think ill of me if I headed directly to the bar, post-sorting-this-out.

By the end of the day, e-mails seemed to be back up and running, and as of this morning, our website is working, phew, but I’m not sure how long I’m going to last at this job. I mean, the snow shoveling and internet work have both expanded my horizons, I suppose. But I kind of liked my horizons where they were, all technologically ignorant and blurry behind a big glass of chardonnay.

11 comments:

bekah said...

Email if you need help...

meno said...

Next he'll want you to rebuild the engine in his car.

It IS his fault. Totally.

Mama P said...

Like I said, I've been there. At least he's not having you pick up migrant workers and selling his furniture to you for coke money. (Yes, that happened to me.) Small offices - I tell you, they SUCK. They all say "small enviroments are more intimate." What a load of crap. It's small because they don't have the professionalism to be an Apple or Xerox or whatever it is that really pays the bills. Now can there be a happy medium without selling your soul? Sure. But this kind of crap. RUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN! But write it down for future sales as a best selling writer!

Anonymous said...

Captain Gigglepants explains, shoveling snow and internet work is what we Gigglepants do best. Maybe we can jobswap for a while. GREAT I knew you'd wanna.


hmm, does giggle mean to laugh childishly or shake like Santa's tummy?
find out

Anonymous said...

Don't you wanna know what I do?

CG

Princess in Galoshes said...

I am very curious, captain pants. But your link doesn't seem to work.

Perhaps this is me being technologically inept, again. Do you have a direct URL?

Anonymous said...

My sincerest apologies!!!

http://www.thefreedictionary.com/giggle

Fondly,

Captain pants

Princess in Galoshes said...

A giggle apparently means a short, spasmodic laugh.

Is that your job?

You're right. I TOTALLY want to trade! Are there any goats at the short, spasmodic laugh factory, perchance?

Anonymous said...

Reluctantly, ahhh, there are none. Though were there some, they would be of the tree climbing persuasion indeed. Getting them down a difficult job that would be. I prefer sheep myself. Counting them, of course. Truly, and honetly my employment requires me to work in a wonderful little farm where they struggle to blend the strawberry plant with the daffodil to create the daffoberry. It's all very hush hush. My job is to pick them and taste them of course. I do miss the snow...

CG

silverfish said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
silverfish said...

He doesn't get it does he?