Hacked Off

Recently I have become very peeved at technology, actually, not so recently.  It's been a slow, simmering burn, directly correlated to the amount of time I have to spend dealing with credit card accounts, userids, and passwords.

To be fair to the credit card companies, they have always been  banking-johnny-on-the-spot when our accounts were compromised.  But over the years, I've moved more and more payments from ye-old-paper-checks to those new-fangled-easy-squeezy-set-it-and-forget-it credit cards.  I loved the convenience.  The knowledge that I would never have to remember to mail a bill again.

Kathleen, in earlier, happier times

Until that first dark, dismal day when Citibank Fraud Service Called.

Do you know how long it took me to just figure out how many accounts were set to autopay on the credit card?  Remembering userids, passwords, mothers maiden names (and sometimes the answer WASN'T my mother's maiden name, which I have no idea how THAT happened).  Remembering 'code words'.  Code words?  I created a code word?

A few years ago, we moved to another credit card that offered more cash back than Citi.  I thought I was being a smart consumer.  All was really cool, we were banking the bucks until the Hubster went to Maryland on a business trip and I stayed home in New York.  Apparently, because we were charging merchandise in two separate states, it was a sign of fraud, and they cut the card altogether. Which was fine, except that my business card had been compromised and I was waiting on the new card, so I was left credit-less at Steve's Prime Meats.  I asked if they would take a check, and they only glared as if I were a sub-worthy vegan.

Embarassed and knowing that I could never shop at Steve's Prime Meats again, I crept outside, called the financial company, and they said, we'll take care of it.  Back inside, I meekly asked Steve to try again and voila, this time it worked.

Happier and feeling in a better place in the universe, we went on to the drug store.  I bought some calmine lotion, and some painkillers, and whipped out my credit card.

DENIED.

That was it.  I was tired.  I was beaten.  I had no more energy to fight the good fight.  I left my calmine lotion on the counter and drove home, prepared to never charge anything again.

Later the next week, my business card arrived again.  The main credit card seemed to have figured out the O'Reilly usage patterns, and I was off.

Then this week I have read that the military databases have been hacked.  That UK journalist have been hacking murder victims emails.  That an old site that I haven't used in ten years had been hacked, exposing  my email and password.

Nigerian Prince

What is this Internets that is as secure as a chocolate piggy bank?  Why can't they have TWO Internets?  One that is for bad people, who remain anonymous and persuade twelve-year-old girls that their name is Justin Beiber, or a Nigerian prince who wants to PROVIDE THE BIZNESS OPPTINITY OF A LIFETIME?  Why can't there be a nice secure place, where I login with my thumb or my eyeball and everyone knows that I am Kathleen O'Reilly, and I can email Citibank, who also has to provide their thumb or eyeball for verification?  This is my dream Internets.  A magical place where I have no userid or passwords or code words or secret security phases.  A place where everyone knows your name.

So, anyone else gotten hacked recently?  Anyone else ready to swear off technology?  Do you still use checks?  Do you hate it?

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