azurelunatic: "beautiful addiction", electron microscope photo of caffeine (beautiful addiction)
...running across the yard like so many dinosaurs.

Surprise! It's a reprise of the 2nd Thursday meeting! Aren't we lucky!!

Skirt is piled under cardigan. Wear that skirt, because it's island-themed bash in the evening, and you wear tropical skirts instead of tropical shirts. The coordinating hat is already at work.

Bring fruit with. It will be a long day.

Car has fuel.

If you feel like it, you can do something for system administrators' day. You don't have to.

Caffeine is often a valid life choice.
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
Today my manager totally didn't encourage me to foment rebellion over a badly skinned ticketing system by posting comparison screenshots of the badly skinned version and the normal skin that people in various superuser roles get to use.

Related: today helpdesk told me that I shouldn't even be seeing the normal skinned areas or the homepage that's not the portal, because I shouldn't have permissions to see that. If that's so, then they have some problems. However, I suspect that they're fundamentally misapprehending the permissions model of the horrible bullshit system, because it seems to me like the brand-skinned version is pastede on yey, and my permissions just don't allow me to do anything fun with the non-portal homepage. And that they'd have to do terrible things in order to actually ban me from the normal skinned homepage without actually breaking my brand-skinned experience. And, more to the point, that they won't support any errors I encounter on the page I shouldn't be on.

By dint of calling helpdesk instead of responding to the IM, I was able to avoid the helpdesk dude who I had the terrible encounter with yesterday, even though he was still assigned to the ticket. The ticket which is, fortunately, closed. (Unfortunately, closed-wontfix.)

My manager had suspected that we weren't intended to know the normal skinned homepage, thus the inciting to foment rebellion.

The other day I'd had the conversation with Purple that went a little bit like:

tentacle-related body horror )

Weirdly, when I mentioned this general concept to Madam Standards, she got grossed out a bit. Alas. Ah well! Purple and I have the same sort of terrible sense of humor!
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
Today at work, the security club had a lockpick intro/practice session. I picked a disembodied lock with two pins! I poked at one with four and one with six. Mr. Zune said that the one with four was actually harder than the one with six. He also mentioned that it was actually sort of amazing that he'd left his alma mater without picking up lockpicking skills. Since he wears the brass rat, that is sort of amazing. In addition to the various locks, they had a tabletop stunt door with a knob, a deadbolt, and a chain. I learned that my long hair and typical braid is good for having an excuse to have hairpins on me at any given time, given their utility in shimming carelessly-locked handcuffs.

Lunch involved Purple getting asked geopolitical questions by some of his buddies, and him holding forth a bit. He's generally sensible on the topic, it seems.

As my manager warned me might happen, dev work on my database has halted. At least we have a bit, or something?

I keep discovering horrible usability problems with various bits of the new helpdesk system. Today's shenanigans went a little off-script.

Consent and the helpdesk guy. )

I hadn't gotten to sleep until nearly 5am last night. Purple gave me a few helpful suggestions by way of commiseration, which included a brief digression on milk substitutes for the lactose intolerant, and their likely effectiveness as a sleep aid.

Somehow it went from "hey, I might get out of here early!" to "oh god it's fuckin' late", but at least Purple found the bug he was looking for! At some point I must ask him whether it really does make sense to park where he does, but tonight was not that night. Purple did earn a "Best $NAME" due to some wisecrack. Also, even if the Randomizer were huggy in the absence of my manager, would I even want hugs from him? (No.)

I'm due an early-morning email presence to round people up for Second Thursday (reprise) (which is actually this Friday) and then I can finish setting up the meetings for next week's research participants. Whee!
azurelunatic: Black and white picture of comedy duo Laurel & Hardy (Laurel & Hardy)
Contrary to (everyone's) expectations, Purple worked from work this afternoon. He missed lunch (he'd had a thing offsite at noon) and duly commiserated with me when I dropped by mid-evening to swear about the new system. It came time to wrap up. We compared notes on how much work we had left. I watched him sign off all work IMs, and started making sure all my files were tucked in for the night. As I saved my daily worklog for what I thought was the last time of the day, I saw his icon pop up green again.

AzureJaneL: *raises an eyebrow*

He had forgotten that he had parked in the parking lot nearer his building, instead of the (larger) one nearer mine.

AzureJaneL: oh, ok, I'll come over -- oh. wait.

The parking lot at work nearest my building is, in my estimation, 99% safe. The 1% is that large white panel van which likes to go zooming across the parking lot very late in the dead of night when there are only two people out wandering the parking lot. I am by no means afraid or even uncomfortable walking to my car alone (as two people can get hit by one van as easily as one can).

I am a grown-ass adult. I will see my good buddy, my partner in crime, my occasional straight man, tomorrow.

We agreed that he'd walk me to my car, then I'd drive him to his. And so we did.
azurelunatic: Computer with a wind-up key captioned "Which version of STUPID are you running?" (tech support)
Today at work, I nearly blacked out from rage. We have the aforementioned new shit, right? And it's a new thing, so I'm bouncing off it and locating zillions of petty little usability flaws and a handful of big ones. Over the course of ~six months of notice, a few hilariously tone-deaf communications, and not quite LiveJournal-esque oversells of the new shiny shit, a few hours of increasingly dubious training, and three days of actual use, I am nearly at bitch-eating-crackers levels of dislike.

I tried to file a ticket to request that a shared email address (the one that owns the calendar to track the research lab usage) be moved from the old system (may it rest the fuck in peace) to Exchange, but I bounced off a weird search interface, one which basically requires that you know the full name of the person you are looking for. I would be less cheesed if it were merely their commonly used full name, but no, it is the full name in some system which plays badly with maiden, former-married, and dead* names. There's someone on my team whose past name I have to remember just for moments like this.

* Dead name = generally the former name in the wrong gender of a transgender person. (Anyone at Virtual Hammer who has a dead name which needs to leave the system so your teammates don't have to REMEMBER YOUR DEAD NAME IN ORDER TO INTERACT WITH YOU ON P4 should contact someone in HRIS because that is a thing which can (with a little manual monkeying on the part of the HRIS person) and should be changed. The name of the HRIS guy in the QUILTBAG club is listed in the wiki under PerforceRename.)

So I filed a ticket against the name problem. My own manager's name is filed in my head to be typed as fl~autocomplete (where fl are her first and last initials); I have gotten her first name wrong continually while typing because it is fl~autocomplete. Because I wanted to illustrate the problem, I included the link to the page which illustrated the example I'd just bounced off of. Then I submitted and viewed the ticket to make sure it all made sense.

It did not make sense. Half or more of the ticket was cut off. The ticket auto-word-wraps, which is just fine and dandy, except that the size of the text box which contains the ticket is determined in part by the longest unbroken string within the box (like the aforementioned link) and part by whatever leftover space the overly aggressive margins decide you're going to have with the window width you've got. With the window width I'd got in my 1200x1600px portrait-orientation monitor, I had 54 characters (non-monospaced) worth of width. THAT'S NOT EVEN 80.

I flung myself out of my office chair in a rage and marched back to the corner where my ally in all stupid bullshit in new systems matters (the Stage Manager) lurked, blowing past Madam Standards and the Dogesitting Visual Designer, who attempted to hail me. I was in no fit mood for company.

Upon reaching the Stage Manager's office, I realized that my head was starting to swim and perhaps I should unclench and maybe start to, idk, breathe or something. Despite getting my Fitbit 1,000 mile badge today, I did not in fact fall down at the Stage Manager's door (right name, wrong guy).

Tomorrow when I see Madam Standards, I probably owe her an apology for blowing her off. (I dropped by the Dogesitter's cube and gave her an apology and a somewhat less spleenful version of the rant.)
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
Lost a nice long draft entry about today's shenanigans to a bluescreen. Woe.

Weekend: laundry.
In the service of laundry, ran into a neighbor in the laundry room, chatted. The "doing fireworks" line came up.

Purple was more quiet than usual at lunch, but there was still hilarity. I will sometimes say "come over here so I can hit you" even when I'm sitting right within range, but don't feel like even symbolically punching him. He teased me about it, but very quietly. (I was glad I was sitting next to him rather than across or kitty-corner as is often the case, because he was that quiet, and it's generally pretty loud.) Eventually it came out that he was in a significant amount of pain from a known source. Later there were sheepish fistbumps of solidarity.

Friday marked the launch of the new helpdesk software. One of the things that disappeared in the bluescreen was an unsaved list of mild grievances I have filed against the new software.

Purple: do you ever like new software though?
Azz: ... I, uh. The new Kipper/Llama?
Purple: That doesn't count. that was an update.

Manager: They're getting a lot of people to buy it, somehow! Like one of the guys from [2nd Thursday].
Azz: *squinches eyes, searches* Oh! [firstname lastname, company]
Manager: One of these days your head is going to explode from all the pointless trivia.
Azz: *concedes the point*

I think the two worst are that you don't get an email receipt of your ticket until it's triaged, and that you can't link it to your buddy unless you add them to the ticket. Mr. Zune is regretful, as reading my tickets is a minor source of entertainment.

Purple is expected to be working from home tomorrow afternoon, and then working from home another day due to internet techs paying a visit or some such. It will be more quiet than usual, I suppose!

My manager nearly gave me a heart attack when she said "Friday is my last day," and then paused before continuing "before my vacation." She had advice on the things that get filtered into side boxes; my suggestion that she set a filter to override if the subject contained "READ READ READ" resulted in uproarious and possibly mutinous laughter.

The dude came to test the noise levels in our wing just as the jelly doughnut-based hilarity reached peak. He'll get a quote on insulating the walls against the noise.
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
StPatience has been working on slides for a talk, in the traditional (which is to say, last-minute) fashion. #adventuresofstnono have been cheering her on, in our inimitable style.

[20:34] <@Purple> conclusion is "Step 1, get underpants... step 3 success!"
[20:34] * @AzureJaneL throws underpants at Purple
[20:34] * @AzureJaneL not sure whose
[20:35] * @Purple dodges effectively.
[20:35] <@AzureJaneL> (certainly not mine, as I'm wearing them)
[20:36] <@AzureJaneL> (but can he dodge the boomarang boxers, is the question)
[20:36] <@Purple> if they hold a shape that is a sad sad statement
[20:37] <@AzureJaneL> clever rolling and pins?
[20:37] <@AzureJaneL> would that be more or less painful than just straight up crusty?
[20:38] <@Purple> when you figure that out... remind me not to ask...
[20:39] <@AzureJaneL> that's one that would be difficult to explain to the IRB
Read more... )
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
I tried this one next because it was the one that had held up the circle! :D

Notes: Black musk accord, Ethiopian myrrh, and motor oil.

I'm not sure what I was expecting; this whole order I didn't really form a nose-expectation, I just said "okay, I think I might like that!" based on the notes, and ordered quickly.

My impressions were skewed because I'm pretty sure it was the piece of raw tomato that slipped into my burrito at lunch which caused me to feel vaguely unwell all day (above and beyond the inevitable direct effects). There are some things I can wear when feeling unwell, and smelling it makes me feel better for a few moments. This was not one of those. Rather the opposite. At first I was afraid that the perfume was making me feel bad, but then I remembered the tomato. Despite that, I really liked it.

In bottle: there's a sort of viscous quality to the musk scent, which must be the motor oil note. Generally familiar but not fully identifiable. Myrrh? What myrrh?

This seems to be one of the ones which separates, as I got more of the musk yesterday when shaking vigorously, and more myrrh when not. (And then I shook it and the musk was back.)

Wet: THAT'S THAT SHOP AT THE FAIR! Which shop at the fair? You know, the one with all the hemp and the South American textiles and the incenses and the lighters? Where they very politely asked if we'd like to see their selection of bongs, and we just as politely said no-thank-you?

That impression increased throughout the afternoon. Since I have many fond associations with that shop (in all its incarnations) this pleased me.

Eventually the myrrh came out to play; anything with a resinous note will eventually dominate unless something else does. It was always there, providing counterpoint for the musk, but eventually it said "yeah, I'm here, I'm here," because my skin was wondering where the hell it was.

That phase was surprisingly short, and eventually it faded to something sweetish and pleasant.

My budget says I probably shouldn't buy a bottle this paycheck, but I'm tempted. I'll have to try it a few more times (I'm wearing it again today) to be sure.

(And I just stuck the imp of June 23 in the little box in my purse. It's a twist-off window-lid tin which originally held green tea mints from Trader Joe's, and I recommend it for purse imp-holding.)
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
Stopped in at auto shop this morning for the new tires. Got some quality podcasts-and-games time in. Also a large chunk of the emails that just needed reading and filing for work. Then I headed back home because I had forgotten The Bag, despite my reminder to myself about it.

Arrived at work in time for lunch. Didn't see Purple at the table, so I grabbed a sandwich and headed back to my desk, in time to see Purple make a super-late call for lunch. *grin* (I stayed at my desk because there were Things to be done.)

Outlook was being a pain in the ass, so I rebooted while I installed the network cable and switch for the collaboration table. I left it powered off, because there's no need to bleed power that nobody's using when the power switch is right the fuck there.

[ profile] apraxial showed up after getting a bit (very, but she un-lost herself by the time I got to reception) lost, and we went back to my cube. She poked around it and asked questions while I cross-checked the seat assignments. I explained the easter bunny and reverse easter bunny situation with the peanut butter eggs when she found the first bag. In all she found six. She was very happy with the game.

Various co-workers stopped by; I introduced [ profile] apraxial as my goddaughter. She got some practice using her new chosen in-person nickname.

We went back to the front desk to get her phone, which she'd forgotten in the hasty dash for the ladies' room.

Eventually it was movie time. We went by Purple's office to retrieve him, but he wasn't retrievable at that time. ([ profile] apraxial seemed slightly startled to realize that the reason for our detour had been to see him, since the movie was the other way.) He mentioned that he might show up later, and that if I got a text with just one digit, to text him back with our location, as he migh have trouble finding us. I offered to text him back with just one digit, and demonstrated. ([ profile] apraxial giggled in a slightly scandalized way.) Which of course would not help him find us unless I was waving it, he was correct.

The movie was cute. The lines for refreshments were less cute. The picnic blanket was useful. Purple showed up partway through, and sat almost out of poking range. (But that's why we have umbrellas.)

We headed back, and stopped by R's cube to say hi and introduce [ profile] apraxial. Then I shepherded us off to the kitchen for water. R and Purple lingered a bit to chat while [ profile] apraxial and I headed to my cube to make sure we had all the things ready. Purple came by to see us off.

There was a weird plastic thingy on my cabinets. I had wondered if it was a part of the thing, or whether it was just some thing. Purple thought it looked like a screw from a toddler's toy toolkit, and wondered if it was a signal that meant "You screw-up!" He carefully placed it on the edge of my cube.

"[Purple] darling," I said, with my eyebrows.
"Azure darling," he said, matching me tone for tone.
(many giggles)

So then I took [ profile] apraxial home, with The Bag.

Despite flunking out of Chinese school, [ profile] apraxial knows all the terrible words. Why? Well, because her mother has always used them while yelling at her...

Vash actually died on me while I was in the parking lot, which is new and somewhat worrying. I got him re-started fine, but I'm thinking we're going back to the mechanic's at some point soonish.

After dropping [ profile] apraxial off, I headed back to work (chatting with [personal profile] norabombay all the way), where I did a few more things, corrected two errors I'd made (one not-updated email address, one thinking something was this week instead of next week), yelled at Outlook a bit, and then went over to help Purple yell at his Outlook installation. At which point he declared it quitting time, when everything was still terrible.

And now I'm home, and now it should be bedtime, but I should also probably brush my hair, because I'll regret it if I don't.
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
Haul things out of car.
Do not forget Scarily Floral Bag or umbrella.
Wear tights.
Auto shop for tires.
Detail if there is time.
azurelunatic: Delicate blown glass perfume bottle with clear and shiny blue glass.  (perfume)
Today was the best. In between the emailing and the wrestling with Outlook and all that, someone on internal IRC complained about the vagaries of the automatic lightswitches in one of the new buildings.

One of the other folks linked to a document he happened to have on hand, which had installation instructions and dip switch settings for the automatic lightswitches in our buildings.

As I emerged from my brief dive into those two pages (lacking an office with said switch myself, but needing to know more, especially about the wholly ridiculous feature where the goddamn thing BEEPS before it automatically turns off), Madam Standards showed up at the entrance to my cube. "Azure Jane, keeper of all knowledge?" she asked.

What she wanted, it turned out, was duct tape. I thought about it, then went fishing in my meeting bag.

"Oh my god, you actually have some?"

I didn't find it in my meeting bag. (And belatedly, I remember that it's actually in the post-it bag.)

"I guess some other kind of tape would do..."

So then I asked her what she needed the tape for. It turned out the problem was the light switch in her room was beeping, and it was driving her absolutely off the deep end.

My eyes lit up with a really disconcerting grin and I dove into the toolbox for my screwdriver and marched off to her office.

I shortly marched back out, popped my face into IRC, and asked how exactly you got to the dip switches. So I printed out the docs, marched back, and did just as I had been told. I was about to put things back, but the Norseman (who shares the office with Madam Standards) wanted to give it a go, and I left him to it, studying the manual and fiddling with the bitty wee switches. He dropped off the papers and screwdriver a bit later.

I added this to my treasure trove of office knowledge, telling any reader that the office electricians would most assuredly take a dim view of one unscrewing the faceplate, pushing the plastic switch cover to the side, popping it off, fiddling with the dip switches in accordance with the prophecy, and then putting it back together as carefully as one had taken it apart. One should file a help ticket instead and have the electrician do it. And Azz certainly did not have a screwdriver in the tool box, and said screwdriver absolutely could not be borrowed. (Mr. Zune is making plans for his afternoon's divertment tomorrow, and may or may not stop by my cube.)

It really was the best possible timing.

lb dropped by later, and was introduced to the current state of my jellybeans. We conferred about the possibilities for literal office politics (the politics of location, who gets what, and territorialism in a time of available hardwall offices which are not in a particular team's block). I conferred with my manager. We had many thoughts.

Purple returned from his hack day, and made a pun bad enough to bluescreen me momentarily. I wandered over, armed with the screwdriver and docs, plus a bonus cup of red-jello-flavored balls. He mentioned that I'd missed a trick -- the Office Depot bag filled with old as balls software, labeled "old as balls software" should instead have been called "old as balls software sack". I pointed out that without the "sack", it was plausibly safe for work, as no one had specified what kind of balls. They could have been red-jello-flavored balls! No one knows!

Purple wrestled with his laptop a bit. I was pleased that some of my suggestions were helpful. We chatted a bit. *sons of our fathers fistbump* There are many things that can be done with a phone-directory-accessible intercom, especially one accessible from without the phone tree. (This was Purple's terrible friend, mostly, the ex-shitlord, via a conversation about whether someone can be "sorta a shitlord", and where the line falls on that.)

If the topic comes up, Purple will disabuse Mr. Bananas of the notion that Purple and I are a "we". To be quite fair, it's reasonable to assume that when the minion from the other department comes by your office in search of your officemate around about normal-person leavin' time, that said other person might be about to leave with your officemate. It wasn't an offensive assumption. Just, it's a great idea to not have certain inaccuracies bounced around.

misgendering and street harassment, more funny than scary )

We went back to it. We wrapped up around the same time. Purple came by my cube as per usual. I gleefully showed him the package from Rah! He peered at the neatly bubble-wrapped log of imps, then looked into the depths of the package with sudden bemusement. "June 23, 1868?" he asked.

I had, in fact, started giggling and insisted that I needed some of this perfume the instant I saw it in the Only Lovers Left Alive scent listing, and saw that (bonus) it was a white floral. BPAL, and Purple's birthday. )

We hit the parking lot and giggled over the guy who has a bot that announces when it's 4:20 every day. We were still standing there chatting when someone hollered out a car window, "What are YOU doing here?"

R had been off at an educational thing with not enough pizza (zero pizza), and was just carpooling people back. Little did she realize that this is actually a relatively sensible hour for us to depart!

Tomorrow: shenanigans! Whee!
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
I walked into my indoor bathroom with its odor-free water-saving water closet, lit by lamps that I could power for a bit with my own muscles. I sat down and picked up the smallish handheld computer (carrying more computing power than it took to get to the moon) which I keep in place of a stack of magazines. I hummed to myself, a tune I had picked up when my sister learned it, taught to her with methods learned from teachers from a remote nation. I pondered playing it for a friend sometime. So I touched the computer on its screen to open the catalog, picked a free computer piano that I liked the look of, waited a minute for the small radio in my living room to finish relaying the codes transmitted, and shortly began to haltingly play the tune.
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
There's a new [site community profile] dw_news entry up! It has bits about the Open Source Bridge trip.

I had a basically terrible weekend, crowned by having to call PayPal tech support about their terrible website, getting the call disconnected, calling in a second time, and promptly and humiliatingly bursting into tears at one of their very surprised reps. So work was welcome.

At work, it would have been helpful if the Nervous Dev had, in addition to the requirements document template, given me an example of a requirements document which had been well-done.

I have a split keyboard at work. The Stage Manager showed up and remarked on it. He asked whether I had to detach the brain-parts for each hand in order to use it, and whether that made me schizophrenic. "Split personality, surely?" I suggested mildly.

"So am I talking to [workname]?" he asked.

"The better question is, are you *ever* talking to [workname]?" I replied.

"Am I?"


"All right then!" And he went on his way, which included to the ergonomics center to get himself one of those nifty keyboards. Which, he added, popping back up later, had insufficiently large bumps on the home row.

At my 1:1 with my manager, she mentioned the general need to not get worked up over various things.

Over the weekend, I had spent some time in #adventuresofstnono. Now, St. Nono's is not a clean-minded cloister. There's an ongoing theme of poop, farts, and butts. Thus, when various people were discussing their general dislike of beets, in the culinary sense, I had this advice to offer:

"Don't shove beets up your butt." I figured the conversation would get around there at some point, so I ought to offer my advice before it became necessary.

Now, you can't just say "Don't shove beets up your butt. #fishmumgivesmedicaladvice" to your manager. Or, at least, I can't to mine. ([personal profile] afuna could possibly, I think...)

"So I had the occasion to give the following medical advice this weekend," I said, instead. "Don't shove beets up your nose."

"Not even if they're really little adorable ones...?" my manager asked, giggling, which was basically the point of the entire exercise.

"NO," I said firmly.

I popped upstairs to retrieve some ethernet cable from the helpdesk guy. The regular helpdesk guy was back. I will have to break him in like I did the helpdesk guys in the old building. Then I dropped by Mr. Zune's office and swapped calendar management tips, and then by my great-grandmanager's project manager's desk.

I feel that I should do this every other week or so, to check in with her, because the amount of bullshit that two administrative professionals can cut through while chatting in person is really amazingly epic. She gave me a heads-up on a little thing which was about to come down the line, and I promised to relay the backchannel bits. So I did, and she did, and everything looks like it's going to proceed smoothly.

The new wing is ... a little louder than the old one. The insulation between the offices is ... lacking. People have been complaining. I am glad that I am in a cube, and not a hardwall, because I cannot in fact hear every blessed word. I conferred with my manager, and relayed the backchannel bits.

So then I meandered over to Purple's office, to say goodnight before hitting the road. It was early enough that his officemate hadn't left yet. Purple had stepped out for a minute, but his officemate (the guy with all the banana stickers on his monitor frames) invited me in. We made small talk; it turns out that his wife in fact works at PayPal, but on something different than what I'd tripped over on Saturday.

Purple reappeared, but promptly got a phone call from R. While he was taking that call, Mr. Bananas asked me something shaped like "So what are you doing next?" I had a little trouble both hearing what he'd said and understanding what the words meant, so Mr. Bananas repeated himself but clarified the "you" by nodding at Purple.


I tried to clarify by saying that I (stressing the personal pronoun) was going up to the city for an open house.

"Oh, you're buying a house?" he asked.

It is very hard to tell whether "you" is plural or not, in areas which don't do "all y'all".

I clarified that this was a hackerspace open house. My explanation of this part of the Double Union charter has already developed a shape: when he's never heard of the hackerspace before, say: "It's pretty new; because of how terrible a lot of the other hackerspaces are, it's women-only." Because the decision to limit membership this way did not arise in a fucking vacuum, so I shan't frame it that way either.

Purple got his four-year commemoration object this week. Mr. Bananas showed it to me gleefully. Then he opened one of his desk drawers and showed me (with even more glee) that his was bigger. (Mr. Bananas has been here 8 years to Purple's 4.) I nobly resisted the urge to giggle or comment.

R and The Other Guy showed up. I offered R a hug -- she and lb had just lost a mutual friend. Mr. Bananas had to repeat the commemoration object show-and-tell. I explained to Purple that I had nobly resisted the urge to comment on this aspect, thus forfeiting my nobility.

Kat and I have been just having bad timing, alas. I headed on to Double Union, and got there fashionably late. There was wrangling with the elevator. It is a lovely space, and lovely people. There was various good chatting. I shared the inspirational story of the Randomizer learning to not pull things out his ass.

(Purple: "I have a new phrase. It is: 'When you pull something out of your ass, you know what you're going to get.' "

The best possible answer here is 'nothing', or 'hot air', I believe.)

I don't remember who it was who I promised an Internet Feminists Are Watching sticker to if I got more; remind me? Was it [personal profile] norabombay?

If Purple's officemate, a guy he's been friends with for more than a decade at this point, has got the wrong idea about the nature of my relationship with Purple, perhaps there needs to be some clarification. (I am not a subtle Lunatic. I am aware that my heart is often very visible on my ever-loving sleeve. But really. An engineer and a lunatic can be hugging-friends-not-kissing-friends even if the lunatic is carrying a non-subtle torch.)

This week might be less frantically busy than last week.
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
Read more... )
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
Before Dreamwidth had a website, it had a user group. Before Dreamwidth had a user group, it had a Diversity Statement. So [staff profile] misskat and I talked about parts of the process of watching the user group start from the concept of Hypothetical Journal and the Diversity Statement and the things we learned from that. It was great fun! I had stage fright, my computer kind of died a little, and I'm already planning the changes I'm going to make to the talk based on what I learned from giving it.

I was surprised by one thing I learned at Open Source Bridge. The open source world, or at least the bits of it attending Open Source Bridge, has a lot of people at a 101 level for community organization and culture. In addition to a world-class performance engineer ([staff profile] mark) and [staff profile] fu and [personal profile] karzilla and all the other lovely devs, Dreamwidth has people working on making the development community and other official areas pleasant and productive places to be.

Also, quotes databases aren't as well known as they might be, and #dreamwidth IRC's quotes database is one of the best (in my opinion, at least).

Other things I learned:

[staff profile] misskat and I got on famously in person. One surefire way to make your travel group laugh is to run slow-motion across the hotel restaurant lobby to embrace each other as violins play in the background. Or maybe it was dubstep. Nobody's quite sure.

Editing your presentation at the last minute is a time-honored conference hobby, but it helps if your laptop doesn't develop a weird probably-hardware problem which crashes Powerpoint five times in fifteen minutes.

Having at least one car at the conference makes a lot of things go more smoothly, including the spur of the moment laptop and soda run to Costco. (They didn't have diet coke with lime. In retrospect, maybe I should have found a bag of limes.)

Shortbread is more delicious when it's CAPTAIN AMERICA shortbread.

I need, NEED, a badge-maker of my own. As it is, my infamous hat may collapse from the number of buttons I'm going to put on it.

On [staff profile] denise and her wife, BPAL Hatta smells like spice and a comfortable leather jacket. On me? Doing the cinnamon challenge in Uncle Sketchy Galore's man-cave. Body chemistry, y0!

And last but certainly not least -- meeting up with Dreamwidth people in person is an amazing bonding experience, and I want to do it again. Next year in Portland! *raises a glass* and ... TO THE ROLEPLAYERS!
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
One of the things I learned at Open Source Bridge was that the idea of having a private quotes database was a novel idea to many projects. Some people asked after the source for the one which Dreamwidth is using. [personal profile] sophie hasn't (yet?) put that up, but there are various open quotes database projects out there (note that I have not used any of these myself):

Open Source Quotes DataBase: (et al)
miniqdb: (uses .htaccess for authentication)
rash-qdb-fork: (this seems to be the actively developed fork)
QuoteBoat QDB:

If you're looking to get your project set up with a quotes database, check some of those out and see if they have what your project needs.
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday all involved meeting-related shenanigans. Pro tip: when the co-worker who is on record as hating mornings attempts to reschedule your afternoon meeting, it's not helpful to attempt to reschedule it for the morning.

Progression of a task )

So I had the insomnia Tuesday night.

Tuesday at lunch, I'm not sure what brought up the topic, but I mentioned how a keyboard kept randomly turning itself off, and how I eventually narrowed it down to interference from a small household appliance.

Purple: "The microwave?"

I kept talking as if he hadn't said anything. He persisted.

Eventually: "I plead the fifth."

Lennon Glasses Guy: *cracks up*

Purple: *dawning realization* *cracks up*

Therein followed speculation about how exactly one of those was causing something like that to happen.

a week. )
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
  • Sat, 20:44: Ugh, and my computer chooses this time to go unresponsive and now applying updates.
  • Sat, 21:24: git pull, pit bull. Very different creatures.
  • Sat, 21:58: RT @0xabad1dea: there's a bird outside that sounds just like a hard drive suddenly cutting off and spinning down. This bird is not my friend
  • Sat, 22:01: RT @jdub: 14 years later, Y2K bug hits 118 to 121 year old men with a warning to sign up for the draft. /ping @Colvi
  • Sat, 22:20: @PebbleBucks App crashed, push any button?
  • Sun, 00:40: Me: "NOTIFICATIONS ARE A THING" Autocorrect: "NOT IF I CABBAGE ARE A THING" D: *doesn't realize this is autocorrect because me*
  • Sun, 00:45: RT @eassumption: @azurelunatic as I said once, the difference is that usually, a pit bull gives you some warning before it fucks you up.
  • Sun, 01:03: My fitbit #Fitstats for 7/12/2014: 2,333 steps and 1 miles traveled.
  • Sun, 11:31: RT @thefourthvine: @twwings @j00j this explains why militaries all over the world choose spandex for their combat fatigues, though.
  • Sun, 12:00: RT @zorkian: TIL that "privilege" literally means "private law". When you put it that way, it sounds a lot more sinister, doesn't it? Well:…
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
  • Sat, 00:02: My fitbit #Fitstats for 7/11/2014: 4,154 steps and 1.8 miles traveled.
  • Sat, 02:37: Azz: "C'est la vie." Purple: "La vie." Purple: "That's life." Azz: "La vie." Purple: "THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS!"
  • Sat, 11:21: Two phonecalls to fucking PayPal and a humiliating flood of tears later, at least my alternate address is in the process of verification.
  • Sat, 11:26: am not going to even dare today to get worse. Have already: thrown up, got hives, paypal gave D wrong address, call disconnected, cried.
  • Sat, 11:27: There are many more bad things which could still happen, but maybe if I stay in bed today, they'll happen tomorrow instead.
  • Sat, 11:44: RT @jswatz: "Are you gay?" Obama asked. "Only when I have sex." "Bump me." Great moment behind the fist bump at Franklin's


azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz - bolt of blue - infovore)

July 2014

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