Dude. And I say that in the most serious way. Dude.
Some else *thinks* they are “meteowrite.” I don’t know how this happened. But it’s the most bizarre thing.
I was on a site out there in the world, a site where I had registered and claimed “meteowrite” as my own. I was having trouble with the site and so I deleted meteowrite and went to start fresh. The first few times I got the message that the “meteowrite” was unavailable, I didn’t worry much. I figured that my deletion and thus the freeing of the name was not yet processed. I never dreamed someone else would snatch it up. (And in passing, I did try to re-snag it both immediately, and then frequently after my deletion.)
My clever husband was the one who discovered that someone else had claimed it. (I still feel there’s been some sort of computer-clerical error here, and bless his heart, NIL is looking into it, as this particular website is affiliated with his place of employ, is you know what I mean.)
Here’s the thing. It’s really quite simple. I AM METEOWRITE. Back off bunky, whoever you are. Back your boat up and get away from my alter-ego.
I did a little research (does looking something up with Google still count as research? or is it now just part of being alive?) to see a) what I could learn about this person and b) how severe the meteowrite invasion was. Mostly, I’ve got meteowrite secured. At least most of the places I go. AND, to be fair, it does seem like my alter-ego is only hanging out in places I wouldn’t need to be myself. Places with different alphabets than the one I use. A reasonable person would probably learn to share.
And yet, I feel somehow completely invaded. There’s that episode of Friends where Monica’s identity is stolen, and ultimately what gets her is that the person using her credit card is doing things Monica herself isn’t gutsy enough to try. Skydiving and tap dancing lessons and the like. It’s not that exactly. It’s just that I AM METEOWRITE. I’ve been using the name, geez, I feel old now, for more than a decade. Scribbling it on the back of homemade cards, and for everything on the web. I remember that moment of brilliant inspiration, when I thought it up, in my fourth hour of driving along Highway Five. Me-Teo-Write. Meteorite. Double entendre. How cool is that? I literally can’t spell the word the way the rest of the world does anymore. Not on the first try.
So even though whoever it is probably has no idea I exist, and certainly most likely isn’t out to get me, it still makes me sad. I just want to have the name all to myself. All mine.
2 Responses to “stolen identity”
1.There is only ONE Meteowrite and her name is Jenn. People who say otherwise eat sabre sandwiches.
Sancho said this on March 1st, 2007 at 8:20 pm
2. Oh no fluffy!!
PS. sabre sandwiches? that makes my mouth hurt. eek.
jean said this on March 2nd, 2007 at 11:37 a
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