Confessions of a Web Designer

The brain loves immediate cause-and-effect processes. To act with a specific purpose, and immediately see that purposed result creates an almost addictive reward. Web design, I think, is in certain instances the most satisfying version of this instantaneous reward process, and in others is the most frustrating.

For example, in my web design efforts, I've updated a page on the back end of the site and within seconds, see my changes on the refreshed page.

I've also totally and irrevocably broken a website by a seemingly innocent line of code.

So I undo my changes.

And it's still broken.

I grit my teeth and try something new. Which doesn't work.

So I try a different thing.

Still nothing.

Again and again and again for hours I try things, none of which restore my lost site.

Finally, I redo the initial (and most logical) fix that I'd tried when I had first discovered the break. And sometimes it works.

Sometimes I end up doing the same thing over and over again and then, randomly, it'll work.

There was a specific instance where my employer wanted a simple change to a piece of media on the site. Now, media tends to be a bit more complicated, because there are generally three connections that need to be made in order for the correct image to be displayed, but it's still usually pretty simple. But not in this case! I removed the original image, uploaded the new one, and linked it to the page and the whole site crashed. To this day I don't know what I did. All I know is that I had a couple mini heart attacks and several massive panic attacks on my friend's dorm room floor. It took me four hours to rebuild the crashed site; I didn't lose everything, but a good deal of the structure went down.

To be entirely fair, it was almost certainly 100% user error. I'm not trained in computer science and much of what I know is self-taught using the "sink or swim" method (maybe in this case, it's "sync or swim" ... no? Not funny? Okay... I'll stop). It was still frustrating beyond belief.

One of my favorite things about being a web designer is that I know how much effort goes into certain pages. I have a particular page on my website that took me hours. It's really simple, unassuming, and non-abrasive, but I know how much work that took me. Looking at it still brings me a sense of satisfaction.

Then there are those moments when you're trying to use your site as a user, for once, and not as a developer.

I work for my school's marketing department, and part of that means that I manage certain school-affiliated websites. One of these hosts student summaries of great books written throughout history. Usually, I test the site for functionality; I haven't really looked at adding certain (perhaps obvious) features. Well, not until recently.

I was talking over coffee with a friend about a book she had received as an early Christmas present. Neither of us had read it, but I recognized it from this site, so I pulled it up and looked for the entry about this book. At this point, I realized that the website didn't have a search function. I repeat: an archival website doesn't have a search bar. What kind of IDIOT designed that?!

Oh.

Right.

That would be me.

Oops.

Tomorrow morning, guess what's first on the agenda? Yep: I'm adding a search bar.

To sum up: This web designer has a great job and an incredible lack of common sense! Hurray!

Merry Christmas, my friends.
Best wishes,
Nicole