Today, I’d like to share my experiences setting up my new website, loribonati.com.
The site is hosted by a company whose name rhymes with WhoaDaddy. I’ll refer to them as WhoaDaddy for the remainder of this post, because it seems appropriate. It’s been a wild ride. In fact, I could have used some reins.
After choosing a photo and writing a blurb for my home page, my next task was to select a layout design known as a “theme.” The choices were slim, but I quickly found one I liked. It had plenty of white space, something website designers recommend.
I then went about choosing colors for my theme. Or actually, color, singular. After selecting my first color (green), I couldn’t figure out how to choose another one.
Since I really would have preferred some accent colors, I contacted WhoaDaddy last night. That’s when things got a bit rough.
“Can I add more colors to my theme?” I asked via their chat line.
Hello, Lori. You are augustanahouston.org, right?
“No. I’ve never even heard of them. Is that a website?” (I then looked it up … it’s a church in Houston, Texas!)
Oh, my apologies. Are you loribonati.com?
How can I make your day even better?
Suffice it to say that my day didn’t get better.
I needed to ask my question a number of times before I got a clear answer. First, I was told that I could add more colors by moving a simple slider across my screen toward a word that said “Colorful.” I’d already tried that, with no success, but I tried again. All that did was change light green to dark green.
The technician took control of my screen remotely. I was hopeful.
The background was now pitch black. There was absolutely no white space on the screen.
“I said I wanted a variety of colors,” I said, and then, feeling the need to be really obvious, I added, “like a rainbow of colors.”
Oh, for more colors, you will need to upgrade to a different plan.
“What do these plans cost?” I wanted to know.
And I had to ask that question more than once before I was directed to another screen that showed four different plan options. They were not unlike those data plans that seem designed to confuse. There was even some sales pressure. Maybe I was just tired. But not too tired to notice that there was a two-year agreement.
Do I have to sign up for two years? I asked.
Oh, no! We do allow you to sign up for just one year if you like.
Well, why didn’t you say so, I wanted to ask. But I kept my cool.
“No thanks, I’ll just keep my current plan for now,” I said.
“That’s fine. The decision is up to you, and we respect that.” Hmm. That wasn’t really necessary. Of course it’s my decision!
Later that night, I took another look at my site. My one and only blog post, “Shameless Wordling,” had disappeared from the site.
It was still there when I hit the “edit” button, but I couldn’t re-publish it because it said it was already published. I quickly dialed up WhoaDaddy on the chat line again.
“What happened to my blog post?” I asked.
An hours-long scenario followed, in which my blog post was located by a technician who then replaced it with one from The Food Network.
And I didn’t even like the recipes.
Please delete those food pictures asap,” I implored. At least that was taken care of quickly … or so I thought.
After that, the person on the line said she couldn’t help me further. She referred the problem to an advanced team and said it would be corrected within 24 hours.
The next morning:
I checked my site. My blog post was still in limbo, but at least I didn’t see the Food Network pictures anymore. I contacted WhoaDaddy again and was immediately transferred and placed on hold for 30 minutes, while music that I’d opted out of kept playing anyway. Someone finally came on the line, and I asked if he could locate my blog post and republish it.
Yes, I see it. It’s making me hungry!!
He was looking at the Food Network pictures.
I wondered if my post was showing up on the Food Network’s website. Maybe I’d be famous. I anticipated getting hundreds of emails inquiring about the cookbook I’m writing.
I checked my email. I’d gotten only one. It was from WhoaDaddy, and it asked me to rate the experience I’d had with the person who’d put me on hold.
I actually felt sorry for the hungry technician when I had to break it to him that those recipes weren’t mine. He sounded surprised and maybe a bit panicky, so I quickly reassured him that I still had a backup of my blog post. I could sense his palpable relief.
Perhaps because I’d put him in a good mood, he quickly and efficiently managed to locate my missing post by checking my history, and he then restored it to my site.
So, the bottom line is that all is well – for now, anyway.
I just hope I’m not mistaken for a church lady again. That could be a problem … or maybe a miracle, if my cookbook gets picked up by the Food Network.