I recently had an on line account locked due to “suspicious activity.” It turned out the “suspicious activity” was just me accessing the account from a different IP address, which, I guess is sort of dodgy, since internet nerds rarely venture out of their parents’ basement and into the world to log in from, say, Montauk, LI.
The incident got me thinking (and by thinking, I mean “worrying.” Other topics I’ve been
worrying thinking about this week: bedbugs, head lice, and whether or not the phenomena of the Tiger Mother is just so much bullshit or will all my children grow up to be abject failures due to my weak-ass parenting). In my research on password security I came across this article from the police blotter that provides one more reason (not that I needed any more) that Facebook sucks: With Facebook Info, Hacker Spreads Victims’ Nude Shots. In that article, the “hacker” figured out women’s passwords by the personal information they posted on Facebook. He then went into their email accounts, looked for nude photos, and then sent the photos to everyone on their contact lists.
Then I started
worrying thinking about how easy my passwords would be to guess, based
upon the personal info I’ve got floating around the internet. I’m pretty certain my passwords could not be guessed, but what about those security questions that are used to gain access to my account when I click on “forgot my password”? I’m thinking that all those questions could be answered easily by the guy behind me at the Dunkin Donuts who I chatted with for a few moments while waiting for my Extra Large (why can’t they make one bigger?) cup of coffee with cream, no sugar (I said NO sugar, goddammit!) this morning. Where did you meet your significant other? What was your high school mascot? What’s your favorite movie? Your favorite sports team?
My husband has one possible solution: stick numbers on everything. (Don’t you try it, ’cause you’re a perv, and I already know you’d put “69” on everything).
Leaving the nerd topic of password protection for a moment, let’s turn to the nerd topic of sex. In reading that article about the guy who sabotaged the Facebook accounts of all those women, what really struck me was not the number of accounts he was able to “hack” (that seems simple enough to do, see my discussion above) but the number of women who had sent nakie pics around. I know I was dating before the ubiquity of camera phones (good golly, I’m getting old), but no one ever asked me for a nakie picture. I like to think that my uptight, Catholic, legs clamped together demeanor would have cut that question off before it made it to their lips. Or maybe my predilection for nerdy, brainy, I-can’t-believe-I’m-with-a-real-live-girl types meant I never encountered guys who were ballsy enough to ask. Still, I wanted the opportunity to hysterically scream “No freaking way!” to their request all the while secretly, and smugly, knowing that I have a rockin’ hot body. As it is, I can only suspect that I have a rockin’ hot body, without independent photographic evidence to support this conclusion.
Anyway, I knew of girls in college who did this, because I had guy friends who told me and, in one case, showed me. It really never made any sense to me. Why give nakie pics to a man I was (presumably) intimate with? He could see me real life nakie. What’s with the picture?