Photography Challenges

I mentioned in my (non-)resolution post that I wasn’t entirely sure I would participate in one of the yearlong challenges I was contemplating because of some recent events that had left me feeling a bit disenchanted. As of today I have made up my mind. Before I go on I want to stress one thing: I have no wish to deter anyone from participating in this photography challenge. This is purely my experience and my personal feelings.

Yesterday I unrolled my yoga mat, placed a foam block and my water bottle on top of it and took a photo. It was set up and taken specifically for Project Life 365 to represent the day’s theme of “resolution.” You might have seen the image, but it’s since been deleted.

On Sunday I purchased a copy of the field guide, which isn’t required to participate but was advertised as a good source of inspiration and I thought might be a beneficial read with a year of daily photos looming ahead of me. It should be noted that due to the nature of my work through ICGOLD Photography I’ve made use of many of Design Aglow‘s products; I’ve always found them completely worth the investment. So, anyway, I jumped right into reading the guide and for the most part I thought it was worth the $25; however, it contained numerous typographical errors beginning with the very first sentence. Not just missing words or simple errors spell check would overlook, but incomplete URLs, duplicated sentences and poor grammar. Honestly, it didn’t just seem like it could use to be copy edited, but that it hadn’t had even a cursory second glance given to it.

This is not what I’ve come to expect of DA’s products, so when I saw the guide being pushed again on the challenge’s Facebook page, I left a comment stating this fact. Now looking back I admit it wasn’t the most constructive comment I’ve ever written and this might not have been the best venue to disseminate such information, but in any case a few hours later I noticed that other comments had received replies and mine had been deleted. There was no mention on the page about the discovery of any errors in the guide and so my only conclusion was that my comment had been purposefully ignored.

I left a second comment, stating again that the guide had errors and that I was quite frankly offended that I’d been ignored and my comment deleted. I also posted this on Facebook, which I still maintain is an important aspect of utilizing social media as a business. About an hour later I noticed that my second comment was also deleted and that I no longer had the ability to leave comments or post on the page. Before I could turn into a mass of boiling rage, I received an email from one of the staff at Design Aglow regarding my comment. We emailed back and forth for the next hour. I gave a vague explanation of the errors I’d found in the field guide, noting that I wasn’t about to look up each specific instance since there were so many. And let’s face it, I wasn’t going to do their work for them. I also stated that I was more upset with how things had been handled: that my first comment was ignored and deleted; that rather than acknowledge the issue upfront I was privately emailed after my second comment was also deleted; and that I seemed to have been blocked from their Facebook page.

The person I was emailing with wasn’t aware of what had transpired before my second comment, but did apologize for the situation. I was told that their preferred method for customer service was direct communication rather than utilizing Facebook. I was assured that the guide would be proofed and there was a lengthy explanation given as to the cause of the errors. I was told I’d be sent a new copy and I was offered a credit to the store in the amount I’d spent. Both of which I refused because (a.) I’d already read the guide, errors and all and didn’t need a second copy; (b.) I wasn’t so upset by the product itself as to need an incentive to maintain my business with the company; (c.) regardless of their policy, I still felt that contacting me privately after deleting my comments was trying to hide the issue from public scrutiny; but mostly (d.) absolutely no acknowledgement was made whatsoever about the fact that I’d been blocked from their Facebook page. I mentioned it in two emails. And I even tweeted about it.

I’ve stated my feelings before about not utilizing Facebook properly as a business. If you aren’t going to allow for feedback from your customers, then I don’t really see the point. Mostly, though, banning me from any further comments makes me feel like my opinions don’t matter. I was willing to accept that it was a snap judgment or even a mistake, but since no one will acknowledge that it even happened I’m left feeling that it was intentional. Further, now it’s impossible for me to participate in the challenge via one of their main social networks! [EDIT: Seems they have an FB group set up for the purpose of sharing photos.]

In specific to my issue with the product, the only means of contacting them is through a form on the website. There isn’t any clear direction that you can or even should use it if you have a product issue, which doesn’t instill much confidence in me that I would have received a reply. Whereas they seem quite active on social media and do interact with customers. However I have since noted that I don’t see anything specifically negative on their wall or in comments. More to the point, I wasn’t exactly in need of support, which is why I left the comment initially rather than go the length of officially contacting them.

What I find the most confusing and bothersome is that they emailed me from the address I placed my order, which isn’t the same email I use on Facebook by the way. Not that I’m attempting any type of anonymity, but they could have messaged me through Facebook. Since being contacted, though, that email I used to order things has been subscribed to at least two of their mailing lists. Interesting fact? I was already subscribed to their mailing lists but with an entirely different email that isn’t easily associated with my name so I’ve since been receiving duplicate messages and so far as I know I only opted in with one email. In the end I’m just very conflicted about the entire thing. I’m not claiming their customer service is lax or their products are sub-par, but I am more than a little offended and so I don’t really feel like being a part of their community challenge.

I’m not turned off to all the challenges I vaguely mentioned before, though, and I do still intend to keep up with the photo-a-day goal. In fact, I am hoping to drag a friend with me to wander through Vale Park later today. I’ve never been and something about the idea of a cemetery covered in snow is hauntingly beautiful to me.

Help(less) Emma

After watching this, I am literally sick to my stomach. It’s an utterly deplorable advertisement. It disgusts me that blindness is so often thought of as synonymous with helpless and I said as much on Twitter. (Disabilities in general, for that matter.) But having the Royal National Institute of Blind People perpetuate this myth in their efforts to fundraise?!

Wow just doesn’t seem a strong enough word.

EDIT: There isn’t a whole lot of chatter on Twitter from RNIB about this, but this thread would still be noteworthy regardless.

First, “based on a true story” is not the same thing as “a true story” or “the facts are these.” No matter how close that story is to the truth there is obviously an element of sensationalism added or it wouldn’t be based on anything, it would just be the story. Second, and more important, is the simple fact that presenting blind people as helpless is not only ENTIRELY inaccurate but a disservice to all blind and visually impaired people. This sympathetic view only garners pity, which isn’t helpful to anyone. Defending such an outlook is not the stance RNIB should have; they should be completely ashamed of this advertisement.

Google, You Suck!

I’ve been slowly breaking up with Google, which I know seems amusing coming after my breakup with the public as a whole. But I was being facetious about the public whereas I really have been slowly distancing myself from Google.

It pains me because for the longest time I was one of the champions of promoting Google. Their products worked! They were simple and easy to use! They offered so much to the user, e.g. lots of email space! They were magic with spam! And they were accessible!

Yeah, not so much these days. And what’s worse is the more complicated and inaccessible their services become, the more they force them on the user base. Because if it’s totally broken it makes sense for everyone to use it, right? Couple that with their new terms of service, their increasingly scary collection of your personal data, and the arbitrary way they decide whether to show websites (specifically blogs) in search results and, well, I’ve had one foot out the door for months now.

Today, I am seriously contemplating just deleting my account once and for all. I’ve been helping a friend migrate her Blogger blog to a self-hosted WordPress install and today I had to poke around in her Blogger account a few times. Both times left me wanting to hurt people and break things after I was done.

Yes, I admit my knowledge of how Blogger works is pretty much nonexistent having never used the service. I started blogging on LiveJournal — before the term “blogging” had really caught on — and since moving to my own website I have exclusively used WordPress. But this isn’t like Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory learning to swim on the Internet; it shouldn’t have been too complicated for me to figure out how to navigate another blogging platform. Except it totally was. And at one point I had to switch the account to the new interface – the utterly inaccessible interface — because the option I needed wasn’t in the old interface.

If that doesn’t tell you how little Google cares about a user, well, I’m not even wasting the energy to keep typing.

In short: ugh!

Warranty Woes

I have a love-hate relationship with computers. Well, electronics in general. I’ve bemoaned the untimely demises of several in the last year. Most recently I have had an external hard drive cease working. It was entirely random; it was working one minute and quite literally the next was not. That was a month ago and I’m still dealing with it. (And, yes, it’s certainly a contributing factor to my lack of presence here.)

I tried to troubleshoot the issue myself and in doing so discovered much to my own surprise that the device was under warranty through the manufacturer. Seemed odd since I bought it refurbished — and it arrived with very obvious cosmetic damage. But I decided to give the manufacturer a call and inquire further. During the course of the lengthy phone conversation I learned that the drive was truly under warranty, though the serial number was pulling up information for a different drive. This was extremely baffling, but I was basically rushed off the phone after the return was authorized.

While making sure to fully comply with the packing/shipping requirements — as was stressed several times by the CSR I initially spoke with — I ended up reading the manufacturer’s warranty notes, which stated plainly that opening an external drive’s case automatically voids the warranty. So, before wasting time shipping the drive just to have it rejected, I called the manufacturer again the next morning and waded through all the automated red tape required to get a human being on the line again. I immediately questioned the warranty’s validity in light of the fact that the drive was purchased refurbished and while it was obviously opened (or at the very least the case was damaged to the point it would appear as such) it was in the exact condition that I had purchased it in. I was assured that wouldn’t be an issue, but rather the fact that the serial number was pulling up incorrect information was more of a problem. I was instructed to take a photo of the drive and email it to support — and much to my displeasure as I had already meticulously packed up the drive the intial RMA (and the UPS label I purchased) were canceled.

Absurd as the instructions were, I complied. A day later support replied with a request for a receipt, which I promptly sent to them. I heard nothing more for two days and so I called the manufacturer again and got nowhere. A week went by and I called once more, this time demanding to speak with a supervisor. I rambled for a good twenty minutes in the poor man’s ear about the entire set of events. The supervisor seemed just as keen as the initial representative was to get me off the phone. He generated a new RMA, added a detailed note in it referencing the drive’s “cosmetic damage” and sent me a new UPS label free-of-charge. Interestingly, he also stressed the need to follow their packaging requirements and bid me farewell.

I carefully packed the drive once more and practically stalked its delivery progress with UPS over the next week. The manufacturer received it last Monday and according to both the supervisor I spoke with and a notation on the website a replacement should be sent out between five and seven business days. The notation also notes that the drive was received at the warehouse, but hasn’t been processed, which should take three business days. So, as it’s now the seventh business day, I decided to call and find out what’s going on. This required having to reiterate the entire sequence of events to yet another person and sit on hold for a good thirty minutes only to be told that I should call back tomorrow afternoon if I haven’t heard anything still. He did assure me that the defective drive is in their possession, though didn’t give me any reason as to why it hasn’t been processed. (Actually, I think he said that it’s in data recovery, which is a baffling thing unto itself as there was never any mention of retrieving data from the drive. And it’s moot anyway since, thankfully, I had a backup of the drive.)

I’m failing to see how this is actually an improvement over past electronic devices that have died on me. I’ve griped how they all were out of warranty — in fact, my last external hard drive to break did so exactly one day outside of its warranty! But I’m almost regretting that I discovered this had a warranty at all because I would have long since bought a replacement and I certainly wouldn’t have had to deal with all this fuss!

AAUGH!

Without a doubt yesterday morning was one of the top five most aggravating mornings of my life.

At some point on Sunday my Droid clued into the fact that I have ordered an iPhone and promptly ceased cooperating with me. Initially I thought it was the same glitchiness I’ve been dealing with ever since updating the Android OS because while trying to send a tweet the screen would freeze while I was typing and then my Twitter app would crash. It became obvious, though that typing in general was an issue and neither the physical keyboard nor the onscreen one were functioning properly. I did a reset and that didn’t work and so I went to bed hoping that it would magically fix itself and expecting to call Verizon in the morning.

Well, it didn’t fix itself because electronic devices don’t do that, especially not in my house. So, I called Verizon and after an hour of the tech support rep making my phone perform virtual gymnastics we fixed the typing issue. Except it wouldn’t log into my Google Account. If you’ve ever had a cell phone issue, I’m sure you’re aware that every problem is supposedly fixed with a reset, this started a long sequence of doing just so. I say “long” because apparently there are countless ways to reset my phone. I knew we were heading down a bad road, though because every time the phone booted up and I went to log in and couldn’t the rep got just slightly more baffled. Eventually, he exhausted his database of helpful tips and sent me on my way to Motorola where the heavily accented rep there had me repeat about 65% of what I’d done with Verizon before hitting on the new tricks that finally made my phone believe my password was too correct.

I thought, “My day can only improve from here,” and so I was immediately brought back to reality when I checked the mail and discovered the boxes of cupcakes were still sitting on my porch. The mail was delivered, complete with a carrier pickup notification that didn’t give me any information whatsoever as to why my boxes were not picked up and instead lounging in a late morning sunbeam. I called my post office. The line was busy. I called USPS and maneuvered through their automated system trying to reach a human being while ignoring the message about their “unusually high call volume.” The human being gave me the phone number I just called and assured me they were the ones I needed to speak to. I called again and the phone rang continuously until the line went dead on me. I called USPS once more and got another human being who apologetically reaffirmed the previous human’s statement, but transferred me to her supervisor who accidentally? hung up on me. I spent about 30 seconds having a temper tantrum wherein I nearly threw my newly functioning Droid across the room and then called the post office once again. Someone picked up on the second ring and I nearly died from relief. He very politely listened to my dilemma and assured me that he would send the carrier back out to get my perishable packages.

Meanwhile, I have gotten the mail which included an item from Amazon that I accidentally ordered. I had intended to refuse the package as a means of returning it, but noticed the return address was not Amazon’s even though it was “fulfilled by Amazon.” So, since I’d already spent the better part of my morning with my cell phone pressed against my ear, I called Amazon. The CSR who came on the line wouldn’t even acknowledge my question until she gathered the required name, email, billing address, and order number. After which she finally let me ask about the return and responded by regurgitating Amazon’s return policy word for word. When I emphasized the fact that I just needed to know if I could refuse the package or if I needed a return label to send it directly to Amazon she told me she would send an email detailing how to do a return because clearly her verbal read-through wasn’t enough. I explained again that I am quite familiar with Amazon’s return policy and process, which is why I wanted to know what would happen to this package since the return address wasn’t Amazon’s. She said she would send me an email about returns. I asked to speak to someone else. She told me they would say the same thing and would only send me the email she was going to send. I told her that wasn’t an answer to my question and asked if she would kindly let me speak to someone else. She started to repeat the bit about the email and I cut her off by hanging up. And so I had to call back again and I got another CSR who I immediately apologized to because I was sure to cross the line into “irate customer on the phone” land. I had to repeat myself a few times to this CSR, too, but she did eventually answer my question by stating the item needed to be sent to Amazon not the address on the box. She even created a UPS call tag for my package.

Throughout all of this I am most surprised by Uschi, who showed a new level of concern for me. She followed me around the house as I paced, nudging me in the leg or arm now and then to remind me she was there. When I finally sat down on the sofa she promptly joined me and snuggled up against me. And when I was finally done with my hours of phone calls, she crawled into my lap and was shockingly gentle in her exuberance for attention. As cranky as everything had made me I have to say it was difficult not to thaw a bit from that level of love. It was certainly more attentive than I was the other day when we came home from grocery shopping and I didn’t realize she was still harnessed more than an hour later. She was a good sport about it, though.

German chocolate cupcakes decorated as chocolate labs

In other news, I made more cupcakes yesterday. They were only a slight fiasco in comparison to my usual baking/decorating adventures. I ended up having to do the Tootsie Roll ears three different times. The first batch burned and I put the blame squarely on the microwave which was mysteriously set for an entire minute and thus the taffy globbed into a boiling inferno. The second batch ended up being the perfect size for pug ears. Except, of course, I was making chocolate labs. Also, the design instructions I was following clearly say to use dark chocolate frosting, which I thought was too dark but I’m not above being frugal and I had made dark chocolate frosting the other day as it’s the best to dye black since it requires the least amount of tinting added, which can make things taste funky. Black frosting is required for pretty much every cupcake I am slated to make lately. I only did the two in the middle because I found them unappealingly dark and the ears don’t match as nicely, so the rest are just a more milk chocolate brown a la chocolate buttercream. And now I am very nearly out of semisweet chocolate, which means further baking is on hold until that is rectified. Oh, and if you were wondering, they have orange tongues because apparently while making monsters, my brother also ate all my pink Starbursts.

Anyhoo, today Uschi has her Lyme booster. So, we’ll be taking some chocolate labs to share at the vet’s. If last year was anything to go by, I anticipate these will be very much enjoyed.