First things first

I love reading blogs. I love how blogs can offer intellectual and creative stimulation. And I love how blogs can point me in directions I hadn’t seen before.

A lot of this pointing takes the form of links. I don’t click through every link I see, but when one grabs my interest I hover the cursor over it and look at the URL in the status bar at the bottom of my browser to see if the link looks clickworthy.

On some sites, though, my placid cursor-hovering is interrupted by a little window that pops up in the middle of my screen: a Snap Shot.

I hate these things. Loathe them.

First, they obscure a good chunk of the surrounding text. Here I am, merrily reading along, when suddenly one of those little windows appears and completely derails my train of thought.

Second, the Snap Shot windows are so small that they’re actually useless. (Note that I am not advocating any embiggening.) Whatever text and images appear in them are barely discernible from the noise in the window. If there’s a link to, say, Matthew Fox in a Speedo*, that little window isn’t going to show much. If I really want to see Matthew Fox in a Speedo, I’m going to have to follow that link.

Third. if I want to know where a link goes, I find it far more useful to just look at the URL. The URL of a blog post can reveal a ton of information, including the website, post title, and post date.

Fortunately, there are ways for site visitors to avoid seeing those annoying windows: by disabling Snap Shots. Apparently, the company has had enough complaints about this product that they’ve included this info in their FAQ; just follow the link in #3 on the list. Unfortunately, this solution requires cookie placement and has to be reactivated whenever your cookies are deleted.

If you’re using Firefox and running the AdBlock Plus extension (which is awesome), you’re in luck: you can get rid of those Snap Shots forever. (Well, for as long as you’re running AdBlock Plus. Which is so awesome that you’ll never want to get rid of it. So yeah, I guess that does mean forever.) Check here for the details. (Opera users will find their solution in the comments to that post.)

*That one’s just for you, Gina!

While I was in Vermont, I got my invitation to Ravelry (about two months after I’d signed up for one). I was worried that the invitation might “time out” if it didn’t get a response within a certain amount of time, so I endured the slowness of my cottage’s dial-up connection and registered an account (FirstThingsFirst) there.

And that’s all I’ve done. Unlike pretty much everyone else who’s gotten into Ravelry, I haven’t uploaded pictures of my stash or my finished projects or anything. Heck, except for just a few minutes ago–when I checked to make sure I actually had an account there–I hadn’t even looked at Ravelry since I was in Vermont. Eventually I will update everything, but, well, I just haven’t gotten around to it yet. Does this make me a Ravelry ingrate?

Two days ago the June statement for my Visa card came in the mail. Because of a busy weekend, I didn’t get around to opening it until this morning, and I was very surprised by what I found: two $25.90 charges, spaced one month apart, for AOL service.

I should point out a few things:

1. This card is associated with a particular merchant, and I use it only when shopping with that merchant (so I get free shipping) or when shopping at one of the few places (e.g., my local health-food store) that does not accept my primary credit card. This card gets very little use (monthly statements often have no balance), so out-of-the-ordinary charges definitely stick out.

2. I do not use AOL. I have never used AOL.

First, I try to call the telephone number listed next to the AOL charge on my card statement and immediately got stuck in AOL’s IVR hell. Pressing zero didn’t work, saying “I want to talk to a human” didn’t work, and the tips at IVR Hacks and Gethuman didn’t work.

So I decided to take a break from trying to contact AOL. I called my credit-card company to dispute the charge–no problems there. But they said I’d need to call AOL to make sure the subscription was canceled. Sigh.

Back I went to AOL’s IVR system. After about ten minutes of mucking around and getting more and more frustrated, I restarted the call. The first question asks if you are currently an AOL subscriber. Rather than answer yes, this time I said no. The second question asked if I wanted to sign up. “Yes!” I answered jubilantly. And whammo–I was instantly directed to a real, live, customer-service rep who was able to answer my questions.*

Let me get this straight: if you want to start a new subscription to AOL, they are falling over themselves in their eagerness to talk with you. But if you’re a current AOL customer with any sort of query whatsoever, well, they’ll talk with you, too–but only if you jump through a gazillion IVR hoops (and heaven forbid you reach a point where none of the answer prompts is the one that suits your case!).

Wow, that’s great customer service, isn’t it?

*As it turns out, these AOL charges were fraudulent: someone I didn’t know was using my card to get AOL service. So I had to call the credit-card company to report this and request a new card. Ugh.