Friday, August 06, 2010
The above really old song that was also featured in the Tom Arnold movie “The Stupids” keeps running through my head.
About oh, 2 weeks ago something happened on my e-mail. At first I didn’t really notice UNTIL I replied to a published and had the e-mail halted in its tracks for “having possible spam” from my anti-virus company provided by my cable company/server.
I thought, “What? I’m sending it with the same stuff I always include in my freelance writing packets: resume, reference sheet and some links to articles-why would it now be considered spam?”
It took numerous re-sends, but it finally went through. Then it happened more and more vigorously within the next few days. I tried to get help from my server and was told I had been “blacklisted” for having sent out 100’s of spam to the same amount of ISPs.
“I most certainly did not!” I told them and they were hampering my business and costing me both clients, publications and most important-INCOME.
The first 2 techs were not all that helpful in my quest to get back to work. The third gave me 2 agencies to contact and helped me send them requests to “de-list” me. Then he threw up his hands (I saw it through my telephone, I swear) and told me he had done all he could.
As soon as my husband (my own personal savior in so many ways) came home I set him to work on the problem. He wound up calling a 4th tech-who told him I was blacklisted because evidently someone (who is still nameless and obviously has not a drop of morals) hacked into my account to infiltrate other unsuspecting people. He gave my husband yet another 2 e-mail addresses to send my blocked clients addresses too so they could unblock them one by one. Oh and to send it via my back up e-mail as obviously I wouldn’t get very far sending it from this one.
Yeah, right. Oh-he said I might be better off killing this main account and making a new one! What? Of course-that sure met with scornful looks which my husband verbally passed on to techie #4.
It is a slow and painful task. I seemed to be able to send up to 5 or so e-mails in a day without a problem, after that-I’m told that I’m spreading spam and to save me from myself, I’m being blocked.
Hence why the song “I’m my own grandpa” keeps running through my head.
Now, if I could just get the vision of Tom Arnold out of my brain, it might not be all that bad.
By the way, speaking of "grandpa", yours truly is due to be a grandpa in about six months. I'm finally "permitted" to mention it on my blog, which will happen next week.
thank goodness for insurance...