Today a colleague asked me if I could design a web page.
WTF?
If there is one thing I thought I had made clear – through indifference, tears, and sheer unmasked terror – it was that I can barely use Microsoft word 2007 (RIP 2003). In addition to incredible typing, I can open email, write email, send email; all other applications within email might as well go to Namibia (except that I am going to Namibia, and surely don’t want to meet them there.) And every now and again, when I plug my laptop into the wall with the five million cables, the picture does translate to the big screen. But most of the time it doesn’t.
Cue the tears.
And now I have to design a web page? Again, WTF??
I think I need a valium.
I’m putting it out there once again that when it comes to computers, I cannot do anything!! When printers break (as they always seem to do) I buy a new one. When computers break, I give them back. Or smash them. Sometimes they break because I smash them. When iPods break straight out of the packet, I never buy them again and go back to listening to the radio because itunes wiped most of my songs anyway when the c-drive crashed EVEN though I did back them up, oh yes I did.
Stupid c-drive. C stands for something that I’m not allowed to say because it’s punishable by death in Namibia.
I don’t even know where to start with this web business. For a laugh – ironic, I know - I opened the thingamybob that I thought might set me on the right path to failure (don’t say I never try!) and the very first question had me stumped: what’s the URL for your page?
I don’t know. I haven’t made a page yet; as if I’ve thought about the URL! And it’s the school’s URL, obviously – I’m hardly going to buy one. I say go jam your URL and ask me an easier question like: what colour do I want the font to be? or, is this your first time making a web page; would you like that creepy little paper-clip guy from Word 2003 to come hang out and annoy the crumbs out of you with really inane conversation and extremely unhelpful suggestions?
Ok, I know the paper-clip guy doesn’t really have conversations. But I talk back, so it kinda becomes one.
Can I please just teach and not design web pages? Because when I went to teacher’s college I so did not sign up for web design. I failed that unit in two separate degrees, actually.
I hope the paper-clip man did not retire to Namibia.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
The First Amendment ...
It’s been a few weeks since I’ve had cause to plan my future life of harmony and grass skirts living in a West African nation (NOTE: not "Western"), mainly due to holidays. But I am excited to learn that others have joined my cause and, though they may not be following my blog they do indeed tend to follow me to Namibia.
Remember folks: there are no cats in America (and the streets are lined with cheese), and there is no technology in Namibia.*
It’s been a wonderful time. A time in which computers are used for writing emails and blogs and stories and the calculator accessory – in short, all the things a computer should really be required to do. Not to play movies, hook up to said evil whiteboards, write reports. Now that is a very evil use of technology. I bet there are no reports in Namibia either, and if there are they will be short, as paper is a luxury few can afford.
No, scratch that. I need paper. Paper that is 100% recycled is 100% fantastic.
I often wonder if I will need Namibia to have at least some technology. It might be necessary to send the occasional email. If I get attacked by a lion, for example, and need the Red Cross to come and negotiate my release from the hyenas at the Elephant Grave Yard. But that’s all I want. And a few KB for Facebook too – it is THE way to keep in contact with your overseas friends, after all.
So, if Namibia is reading this, please build a telephone tower so that I hook up to Optus when I move there. I’m sure Optus will give me a cheap deal; if they give me free access, I will let them use my animals in their advertisements, for free.
* nb. The next person who sends me a link to some school with interactive whiteboards is only going to prove that they have no concept of being facetious, and should in all honesty move to America. Because neither do they. Please do not follow me to Namibia.
Remember folks: there are no cats in America (and the streets are lined with cheese), and there is no technology in Namibia.*
It’s been a wonderful time. A time in which computers are used for writing emails and blogs and stories and the calculator accessory – in short, all the things a computer should really be required to do. Not to play movies, hook up to said evil whiteboards, write reports. Now that is a very evil use of technology. I bet there are no reports in Namibia either, and if there are they will be short, as paper is a luxury few can afford.
No, scratch that. I need paper. Paper that is 100% recycled is 100% fantastic.
I often wonder if I will need Namibia to have at least some technology. It might be necessary to send the occasional email. If I get attacked by a lion, for example, and need the Red Cross to come and negotiate my release from the hyenas at the Elephant Grave Yard. But that’s all I want. And a few KB for Facebook too – it is THE way to keep in contact with your overseas friends, after all.
So, if Namibia is reading this, please build a telephone tower so that I hook up to Optus when I move there. I’m sure Optus will give me a cheap deal; if they give me free access, I will let them use my animals in their advertisements, for free.
* nb. The next person who sends me a link to some school with interactive whiteboards is only going to prove that they have no concept of being facetious, and should in all honesty move to America. Because neither do they. Please do not follow me to Namibia.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Cookies can be evil too ...
Cookies.
Cookies are delicious. Whether they come with choc-chips, or macadamia nuts, or simply smothered in Cadbury Dairy Milk chocolate, cookies are my friend.
But not all cookies are appealing. Some cookies – liked iced vovos and tick tocks, are a waste of my time. Others, like ginger snaps, are simply disgusting. And then there are cookies on the internet, and they’re another story all together. Cookies on the internet, whilst I can’t say they are the devil – merely because they are still under investigation for satanic involvement (yes, that’s code for “I’m not quite sure what they are yet”) – are evil.
Especially as they are misleadingly named after such a delicious snack food.
Yesterday I did a virus search on my computer – something I should probably do more often, as I am on the internet quite a lot – and I came up with the disturbing news that there were tracking cookies on my computer. Instantly thrown into a panic by the image of chocolate royales stealing all my banking passwords - and then my identity, before moving to the south of Brazil – I had a crisis of confidence in my computer.
I know, right, like it wasn’t bad enough before!
To make matters worse, I then couldn’t open my novel manuscript because it said someone else was using it. How can someone else be reading a book that’s on my hard-drive???
I was devastated!
It had to be the cookies. And the idea that someone else might have hacked in to my computer was very alarming. I immediately did a full anti-virus update and blasted those things quicker than the cookie monster (who’s now into vegetables apparently – loser) could have counted them.
Actually, it took two hours. Not quick at all. Computers are so not as fast as the world thinks they are.
So now, I’m not only moving to Namibia because of ICT; I’m going there because when people talk about cookies, I only want the kind I can stuff in my mouth.
Cookies are delicious. Whether they come with choc-chips, or macadamia nuts, or simply smothered in Cadbury Dairy Milk chocolate, cookies are my friend.
But not all cookies are appealing. Some cookies – liked iced vovos and tick tocks, are a waste of my time. Others, like ginger snaps, are simply disgusting. And then there are cookies on the internet, and they’re another story all together. Cookies on the internet, whilst I can’t say they are the devil – merely because they are still under investigation for satanic involvement (yes, that’s code for “I’m not quite sure what they are yet”) – are evil.
Especially as they are misleadingly named after such a delicious snack food.
Yesterday I did a virus search on my computer – something I should probably do more often, as I am on the internet quite a lot – and I came up with the disturbing news that there were tracking cookies on my computer. Instantly thrown into a panic by the image of chocolate royales stealing all my banking passwords - and then my identity, before moving to the south of Brazil – I had a crisis of confidence in my computer.
I know, right, like it wasn’t bad enough before!
To make matters worse, I then couldn’t open my novel manuscript because it said someone else was using it. How can someone else be reading a book that’s on my hard-drive???
I was devastated!
It had to be the cookies. And the idea that someone else might have hacked in to my computer was very alarming. I immediately did a full anti-virus update and blasted those things quicker than the cookie monster (who’s now into vegetables apparently – loser) could have counted them.
Actually, it took two hours. Not quick at all. Computers are so not as fast as the world thinks they are.
So now, I’m not only moving to Namibia because of ICT; I’m going there because when people talk about cookies, I only want the kind I can stuff in my mouth.
Monday, September 13, 2010
The Windows 7 Horseman of the Apocalypse
Ok, so I’ve been fairly quiet on the teaching-technology quandary, mainly because I haven’t really needed to use it – so I’ve had a blissful week in which teaching is a joy because I get to do the things I love:
1. Talk about books.
2. Get students to do activities on butcher’s paper (ok. No I didn’t – but it was a fantastic activity and I am going to do it again one day soon. NEVER using Inspiration again!!!)
3. Talk some more about books.
There was other stuff to, because am a multi-faceted teacher even without stupid technology, but my point is: No technology = no desire to move to Namibia!
But, it would seem I don’t even need to teach in order to hear the call of the wild. I have another dilemma.
Introducing the third horseman of the Apocalypse: Windows 7, come on down (with all of your upgraded programs! To be fair, I’ve just this moment been told that Word 2007 isn’t actually a blood relative of Windows 7 – he’s more of a groupie).
I hate groupies.
I ask you, why does everything have to change just when I’ve worked out how to use it the first time? I’m no computer genius, obviously, but I’ve been typing since Grade 5, took – for all intents and purposes - typing as a VCE subject (ok, it was more than that but that’s all I remember how to do of the subject I got an A+ in when my Indicative Grade was a C+).
Word 2007 is just a labyrinth. Where in the hell are text boxes, for example? It’s true, I wasn’t adept at using them with Windows 2003, but now I don’t even know where they are! And when I open a document and it’s split into 2, or 4 – yikes – and there’s no clear option of consolidating, then I just want to break things.
Seriously. This Laptop with its Windows 7 and awful Groupies better have some serious health insurance.
Maybe the computer version of HBA will pay for me to go to Namibia?
1. Talk about books.
2. Get students to do activities on butcher’s paper (ok. No I didn’t – but it was a fantastic activity and I am going to do it again one day soon. NEVER using Inspiration again!!!)
3. Talk some more about books.
There was other stuff to, because am a multi-faceted teacher even without stupid technology, but my point is: No technology = no desire to move to Namibia!
But, it would seem I don’t even need to teach in order to hear the call of the wild. I have another dilemma.
Introducing the third horseman of the Apocalypse: Windows 7, come on down (with all of your upgraded programs! To be fair, I’ve just this moment been told that Word 2007 isn’t actually a blood relative of Windows 7 – he’s more of a groupie).
I hate groupies.
I ask you, why does everything have to change just when I’ve worked out how to use it the first time? I’m no computer genius, obviously, but I’ve been typing since Grade 5, took – for all intents and purposes - typing as a VCE subject (ok, it was more than that but that’s all I remember how to do of the subject I got an A+ in when my Indicative Grade was a C+).
Word 2007 is just a labyrinth. Where in the hell are text boxes, for example? It’s true, I wasn’t adept at using them with Windows 2003, but now I don’t even know where they are! And when I open a document and it’s split into 2, or 4 – yikes – and there’s no clear option of consolidating, then I just want to break things.
Seriously. This Laptop with its Windows 7 and awful Groupies better have some serious health insurance.
Maybe the computer version of HBA will pay for me to go to Namibia?
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
The ankle bone's connected to the - shin bone ...
"The mic cord's connected to the - round hole
The speaker's connected to the - other hole
The laptop's connected to the - AV hole
So why have I got no sound?
The left speaker's cord is really - twisted
The right speaker's cord seems - unnecessary
There's too many cords and not enough plugs
So let's call the whole thing off!"
A little ditty to describe this morning's horrific experience with one of my least favourite things.
Speakers.
Speakers are the devil.
Well, actually, the ICT anti-christ is the devil. And he made speakers to torment me.
I discovered this when I got my first stereo system, back in the glory days when they were a block of three units: two speakers connected to the main component, which was the tape deck and a relatively crappy CD system. There were so many cables even then - an archaic device after all - and it was virtually impossible to get the whole thing connected together without wanting to hurl it through the window. And then you had to get these three massive interconected boxes up on a wall unit. The whole assembly was absurd and completely non ergonomic. (It actually died after about two years and I was quoted an absurd amount to get it fixed. Suffice to say my hatred of technology was progressing quite nicely from the age of 16!)
(Second side note. I learned about ergonomics when I studied "Information Technology" in VCE. Ironic, huh?!
Speakers have a million cords and laptops a billion plugs. I can figure out what some of them are - the USB port, for example, takes a USB and also an external hardrive, if you are lucky enough to have one. And that rhombus-shaped plug with all the little holes that plugs you into the projector. Projectors are my mortal enemy sent by the ICT anti-christ also, but I do know where the cord goes.
Speakers, though, are a different kettle of fish: they connect to the computer, to the wall, to each other ... apart from the obvious three-pronged plug in the wall, it all just leaves me flummoxed, until at last I cry: "If someone doesn't come and help me with this, we're writing an essay!"
I hate speakers. But I am confident that, even if they do have them in Namibia, I will never be expected to use them.
The speaker's connected to the - other hole
The laptop's connected to the - AV hole
So why have I got no sound?
The left speaker's cord is really - twisted
The right speaker's cord seems - unnecessary
There's too many cords and not enough plugs
So let's call the whole thing off!"
A little ditty to describe this morning's horrific experience with one of my least favourite things.
Speakers.
Speakers are the devil.
Well, actually, the ICT anti-christ is the devil. And he made speakers to torment me.
I discovered this when I got my first stereo system, back in the glory days when they were a block of three units: two speakers connected to the main component, which was the tape deck and a relatively crappy CD system. There were so many cables even then - an archaic device after all - and it was virtually impossible to get the whole thing connected together without wanting to hurl it through the window. And then you had to get these three massive interconected boxes up on a wall unit. The whole assembly was absurd and completely non ergonomic. (It actually died after about two years and I was quoted an absurd amount to get it fixed. Suffice to say my hatred of technology was progressing quite nicely from the age of 16!)
(Second side note. I learned about ergonomics when I studied "Information Technology" in VCE. Ironic, huh?!
Speakers have a million cords and laptops a billion plugs. I can figure out what some of them are - the USB port, for example, takes a USB and also an external hardrive, if you are lucky enough to have one. And that rhombus-shaped plug with all the little holes that plugs you into the projector. Projectors are my mortal enemy sent by the ICT anti-christ also, but I do know where the cord goes.
Speakers, though, are a different kettle of fish: they connect to the computer, to the wall, to each other ... apart from the obvious three-pronged plug in the wall, it all just leaves me flummoxed, until at last I cry: "If someone doesn't come and help me with this, we're writing an essay!"
I hate speakers. But I am confident that, even if they do have them in Namibia, I will never be expected to use them.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Saving Face
Today the POL advertisements were made, and one of them was ICT coordinator. Such is the legend of my incompetence, people in my office have suggested, facetiously, that I go for it. You get almost zero teaching time, to facilitate working in classrooms with teachers on their ICT.
Even when being facetious, such jokes only make me aware of how useless I'd be in such a position, and I want to book my flight no Namibia urgently.
I'd be better off teaching specialist maths. Seriously.
Oh crap - so that's two things I'm useless at.
I don't like being bad at things. It means there are too many opportunities for me to lose face. In English, when people ask me a question, even if I don't know what the answer is I can usually take a stab and it usually turns out to be right. Just ask me to hook the laptop to the projector and the following can go wrong in the space of 15 literal seconds:
1. The projector won't relay the picture to the board
2. The speakers aren't working
3. The speakers are working but it's not loud enough and no matter what I do this cannot be rectified
4. The speakers are working, but the picture isn't so we can hear everything but see nothing and the students won't stop screaming at me that I'm ruining it because they can hear what's going on but can't see it and now they know how it's all going to end but they haven't seen it and come on miss turn it off quickly turn it off!!!! *Please make them stop*
5. The DVD won't play on my laptop
6. The projector WILL relay the picture on the board, and I've left something embarrassing on the desktop
7. I'm not even sure if I've used the word desktop in the right context
8. The DVD is in French and I CANNOT get the subtitles to work even though I did select them
9. I may have broken the volume nob from frantically trying to force the sound to get louder *why won't you work dammnit frickkety frick frick frick!*
10. I just wasted nearly 40 minutes of teaching time. The End. And now my year 12s think I'm not compentent enough to actually be a teacher and when I pass them in the corridor I can hear their thoughts: she is the most incompetent teacher in the world.
Not really in the world, children. When I move to Namibia and they don't have ICT, then I will be the very best!
Even when being facetious, such jokes only make me aware of how useless I'd be in such a position, and I want to book my flight no Namibia urgently.
I'd be better off teaching specialist maths. Seriously.
Oh crap - so that's two things I'm useless at.
I don't like being bad at things. It means there are too many opportunities for me to lose face. In English, when people ask me a question, even if I don't know what the answer is I can usually take a stab and it usually turns out to be right. Just ask me to hook the laptop to the projector and the following can go wrong in the space of 15 literal seconds:
1. The projector won't relay the picture to the board
2. The speakers aren't working
3. The speakers are working but it's not loud enough and no matter what I do this cannot be rectified
4. The speakers are working, but the picture isn't so we can hear everything but see nothing and the students won't stop screaming at me that I'm ruining it because they can hear what's going on but can't see it and now they know how it's all going to end but they haven't seen it and come on miss turn it off quickly turn it off!!!! *Please make them stop*
5. The DVD won't play on my laptop
6. The projector WILL relay the picture on the board, and I've left something embarrassing on the desktop
7. I'm not even sure if I've used the word desktop in the right context
8. The DVD is in French and I CANNOT get the subtitles to work even though I did select them
9. I may have broken the volume nob from frantically trying to force the sound to get louder *why won't you work dammnit frickkety frick frick frick!*
10. I just wasted nearly 40 minutes of teaching time. The End. And now my year 12s think I'm not compentent enough to actually be a teacher and when I pass them in the corridor I can hear their thoughts: she is the most incompetent teacher in the world.
Not really in the world, children. When I move to Namibia and they don't have ICT, then I will be the very best!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
We Have Met the Enemy and He Is PowerPoint ...
Ok, so this pic relates more to military strategy, but I don't care - powerpoint is definitely the devil!
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