P@$$word Encounters

I'm not an internet hater. I love how accessible and easy the interweb makes life. I sometimes hate the drama it causes, but that a fifty page post for another day. But just like with anything wonderful, there has to be a catch. My catch?

Passwords.

How am I supposed to remember all my passwords?

Seriously.

Everything requires a password these days. And if you follow the password rules, you aren't supposed to use the same ones for everything, or even anything. If you have online banking, facebook, twitter, instagram, all your bills, netflix, credit cards, amazon, ebay, paypal, various memberships (like the jelly of the month club), every app or game on your phone and ipad, email, your other email, and your other email, you have your work cut out for you. It basically means you need a different password for about 50 different sites/accounts. AND some of those sites make you change them all the time!

I'm sure there's an app that can organize them all, but you probably need a password for that, too.

You can't use your pets' names, your birthday, anniversary, address or any other things that are readily available. Instead, you have to think of unique and obscure passwords for each account.

One of my best friends from high school whom I also roomed with for two years in college had the most unexpected email password ever. She was (and is) one of the most lovely people you will ever meet. Very kind, sweet, innocent (in a good way), and generally wonderful. I can't remember exactly why, but one day, for whatever reason, she told me her email password. It was "sexypanties." I was floored. Totally didn't see that coming and never would have expected it. It was the perfect password.  (I really hope it's not still her password because now Andi can go hack her account.)

I probably should start taking plays from my friend's password playbook. My next set of passwords will probably be all about how much I love cilantro, sci-fi movies and reading.

Crap. Now I've told you my secrets.

Go ahead, h@( k @w@y.

Nosey Encounters

This post is a little more personal than I usually like to get, but I can't help it. There is something that's really bugging me and I need to vent about it - so naturally I've chosen a group of people I might know.

You see, I have a zit in my nose.

Seriously.

This. Is. Happening.

And you know what? It hurts like the dickens, hades and any other crazy word or cliche phrase you've ever heard. It's right at the tip of my nose. It's on the inside, but you can see the redness from the outside (read: I look like Rudolph). And it's the kind of pain that brings tears to your eyes automatically. We are talking all kinds of ugly here, people.

It hurts to flare my nostrils, which I apparently do much more than I previously realized. It hurts to sneeze. It even hurts to kiss my husband (Arab nose problems). And it really hurts to tend to my allergy induced snot stream every 5 minutes.

I'm having a great week.

On the more philosophical side of serious, I'm thinking of using my condition as an object lesson. Something along the lines of, "The problem is on the inside, but you can see it rearing it's ugly head on the outside."

You go ahead and let that sink in.

I'll be back when I'm done crying. Or when I master the art of concealer on my nose.