azurelunatic: Delicate blown glass perfume bottle with clear and shiny blue glass.  (perfume)
Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz - bolt of blue - infovore) ([personal profile] azurelunatic) wrote2014-07-16 01:16 am

Enlightenment, and Only Platonic Buddies Left Awake

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.

The best mis-addressing I've had may still have been when the Safeway checkout clerk called me Mrs. JD's Last Name, and I'm not sure whether I was his wife or his mom. The best misgendering Purple had was when he walked out of a shop in the opposite direction to a group of guys, who said things including "Hey Mamacita, come back this way!" upon seeing long wavy hair and a really nice ass. As street harassment can get uglier when the street harassers are confronted with things which challenge their worldview (like 'mamacita' being a long-haired cisdude when not in Second Life), Purple elected to get out of there with relative alacrity.

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. I probably would have needed to sniff it even if it had been a cinnamon, milk, and honey. (Ooo. I do wonder what BPAL would make of a horchata blend, even though I suspect my skin would hate it and curdle the milk notes instantly. Even if it is rice milk.)

See, Purple's birthday is the 23rd. Although hardly 1868. I attempted to explain that it was a plot point from a vampire movie. Having not actually seen the movie, I was a little unclear on what the plot point was, but I knew it was some significant date. In the movie. About vampires.

Wet, it is like jasmine sort of exploded all over my wrists. I liked it, but the JASMINE!! and the throw made me a little dubious. (It appears, in fact, to have zero jasmine in it, which is a puzzler. Lily? And the fact that it made ME dubious about the white flowers is exactly why Rah went essentially OH HALE NAW and made sure that the whiteflowersplosion was FAR AWAY from her, as those go badly for her.) As it dried, I liked it better and better. By this point in the evening, it had mellowed into delicate flowery delight, and Purple took an appreciative sniff of my wrist. (Luckily, a very platonic sniff, as I think I would have outright swooned had he made the same sort of sensual, face-rubbing journey that [personal profile] sarah occasionally does.)

(Now that I'm home, it has mellowed into just a hint of flowers over some sweet wood. Reader, I required an entire bottle. Purple maaaay inherit my imp, if he's a well-behaved partner-in-crime.)

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!
rydra_wong: Close-up shot of Pina Bausch's face. (body -- pina)

[personal profile] rydra_wong 2014-07-16 06:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Permission to link to the perfume review part of the post? *looks hopeful*