I have been uneasy for a while about my passwords, but being dyslexic and a bit lazy there was not an obvious solution to make it more secure and not lock me out. The problem that I
have is anything that requires memorising a string of letters numbers and symbols just does not work in my brain. I have over come this for my normal passwords by having a small
number (around 5) and adding a new one every so often and losing an old one. I take two to three words that I can spell (not a very long list) and then change them with substitution
of some letters for numbers. On one occasion I managed to get punctuation in there also. However, they are used in many sites, and are easily broken in to.
Following Dan’s post on passwords combined with a visit to Dan we started looking at other solutions and settled on last pass. This looked like a good option for us. I very carefully
set up the account paying close attention to where it said make sure you remember your password. The first password I chose was tolerably strong, I had not used it before and it
followed the proven pattern of how I remember passwords. When I typed it in to change something it would not work. Knowing that lastpass will not let me do anything if I cant remember
my password I made a word doc changing each part of the password to see where I went wrong and trying it in the filed, fourth time lucky I got the password. I then realised that this
was not going to work as the bit I got wrong was an inconstancy of treating one letter as a number. So I reset my password using the old copied password.
I texted myself my new password and copied it from my phone, checked that it worked with a second sign in. Then I continued to set up my sites for last pass to sign in. When Kit came
home we decided it was best if I had to write out my new password as often as possible to get it in to my head, this did not work. And after 20 min of trying every combination I could
think of the same way I had before I called Kit through to see if he had any ideas. In the end the only option was the delete account and start again option. So we hit show password
on the screen and copied each password in to a word doc, then we shut down the account.
This morning I have set up a new last pass account, and because my dyslexia has not gone away over night I have a new stratagie. I use SuperGenPass to change a simple password in to a
more complicated password and the resulting password is used to sign in to Last Pass. This might seem convoluted, but in a world where things that I can remember are so insecure that
polite coughing will open them up to anyone who chooses it is one of the few options that give security and will allow me to access my own accounts.
Anyway, I have to now go and change all my passwords again as the were made insecure in the rescue mission, but this time I have confidence of it working.
Awesome murder mystery, props to Dan for writing and hosting. I’ll post some photos when I’m more sober. It wasn’t until I got home that I realised I’d probably been at the space
cocktails a bit too much >_< Until next time Akiyama Toyohiro is signing off!
Since I last posted, I’ve been fairly busy, one way and another. First, Dan and I travelled up to Preston where I was forced to allow that it isn’t a complete pit after all because it
does have a couple of nice bits (viz, a pretty park by the river and a nice museum/library with a ball on a
really long bit of string in the lobby).
We also visited Blackpool, which was a new experience for me. Incidentally, the entertainment value of eating giant eclairs and then riding on a waltzer is limited. I kicked Dan’s
arse at crazy golf, on a really nice course with astro-turf and little streams.
Later, we travelled up to Scotland with some crazed, drunken bus company employees (they were an ok bunch apart from their habit of getting up at 5am) to canoe the Caledonian canal. I
managed the 18 mile first day, got out of our boat and found that my RSI had flared up and I couldn’t move my arms at all. Dan sympathetically fell about with laughter, but on the
third day (Fort Augustus to Drumnadrochit) the winds on Loch Ness were so bad that he and the other canoeists were forced off the water so we both finished up walking the Great Glen
Way to Inverness.
On the way back down, the planets were aligned correctly (or something) so we were able to do the surprise thing that Dan had been planning for ages as my graduation treat. We got up
at 5.30 and drove out to a deserted farm shop on the outskirts of Preston, where we sat in a car park for 10 minutes or so before a battered landrover emblazoned with “Pendle Balloon
Company” arrived towing a large basket on a trailer. I was surprised.
Ballooning was amazing. First, we got to help put the balloon up (which was really cool). The inside is full of wires and cables which are used to control it in various ways. We went
up to 5500 feet before coming back down so we could get a better view of the countryside. It was cold at that height but there was barely a breath of wind for reasons which I am sure
you can all figure out by yourselves (I felt colder when we eventually touched down and could feel the breeze again). The views were stunning, the gentleness of the flight was quite
something, and I had a great time. When it was over, we drank champagne with the pilot and other passengers (which is apparently a ballooning tradition, although I don’t know whether
the plastic beakers are traditional or not).
It was a good trip. Knackering, and full of unexpected events, but highly enjoyable. Now I’m settling in for a summer of alternating basking in the sunshine with working like buggery
on voluntary projects. All I need is a part time job so I can carry on eating and paying the rent, and I’m set.
Rating of posts in LiveJournal blogs. LJ Top is automatically generated.
In the same vein as I had the previous month and Matt promised to for a
long while, Matt eventually completed the meme in which he replied to me, and various other friends, with (1) something random
about me, (2) a challenge, (3) a colour, (4) something he likes, (5) an early or clear memory, (6) an animal, and (7) a question he’d always wanted answered. He wrote:
…
Dan
1. Your hair is longer than mine was. I was intimidated.
2. I don’t know how much Buddhism you’ve studied. If it’s a little then study some more and try some meditation. If you have studied Buddhism then learn to unicycle.
3. A light blue.
4. JTA mentioned it once in his blog and it stuck with me as a perfect example of one of your best characteristics: he called early one morning and asked if he and Ruth could stay on
your sofa. Rather than asking what happened and if they were all right you said yes, got the bed ready and put the kettle on. Many people, when helping someone, want to fix the
problem and force their help and solutions on others. You don’t and it’s refreshing.
5. My earliest memory was the pre-training meeting. My clearest was about a year later when I shamed myself in how I treated you. I apologised but I don’t think I apologised enough.
I’m sorry.
6. If you were shorter you’d probably be an Ewok.
7. You’ve always seemed relaxed and easy about how attached you are to things, but do you plan on leaving Aberystwyth? Would you object to it if Claire suggested it? Where would you
live otherwise? I know that’s three questions but I don’t care.
…
I responded almost immediately:
1. Aww. Someday I’ll get it cut and it’ll be less-long than yours was in it’s hayday.
2. Quite a lot. Unicycle it is, then.
…
7. Have always promised myself I’d leave before 10 years was up, and I’m still – give or take – planning to stick to that. Claire seems to approve, and even encourages it. We have a
few ideas as to what we’ll do after we graduate: one idea that’s being knocked around is to move to Aberdeen, where she can get involved with the university (perhaps a
postgraduateship).
Update – 27 February 2019: I replied again, to update on progress.
7. And I managed, give or take, although it wasn’t in Claire’s wake but
despite it.
2. I’ve tried a few times but I’m going to have to give up. My unicycle’s sat rusting in the shed; I don’t think I’m ever gonna crack this one, sorry.