azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
It seems that when my watch crashes in the middle of a sleep session, it does not preserve sleep data. Good to know. Unfortunately, Pebble-the-company is going away, leaving me with a likely-unsupported tech bauble. (One that's a great boon to my life, however...)

The Wednesday/Thursday night was not a great night for sleep, and then the watch crashed, leaving only one hour of sleep out of at least three logged. But I did get enough sleep.

Apparently shipping patterns are not quite back to normal after the holidays, because the new phone that won't keep fucking rebooting itself, the keyboard cover, and the heated CPAP hose, are all at least a day behind the estimated and/or promised delivery time. Alas.

I am in particular impatient about the phone. Though I know if I start doing something inconvenient and sticky, that'll probably be when the delivery arrives ... despite the package tracking not having indicated that it's left the shipment facility. *sigh*

Purple has located delivery pizza that he can eat! This resulted in leftovers, so he wasn't available for dinner out until Wednesday. We decided on pho. It was cold and raining, so I wanted something nice and warm.

It was a lovely time; he brought R along from work, and it's always good to see her. I had grabbed the shirt from her conference off the top of the laundry heap, mostly because I'd worn it recently and it went well with the skirt. (The skirt used to be black. It's since faded to a nice soft gray.)

R had been off communing with penguins and glaciers, and had a number of nice pictures to share.

After dinner, Purple and I went in search of dessert, and R turned into a pumpkin. Among other things, we discussed dreams, and how we're both inclined towards stress-dreams when things are rough, but rarely nightmares.

Naturally, I woke this morning from a legitimate nightmare. Nightmare. )

I've been discussing the logistics of some upcoming stuff with my partner. This has been emotionally difficult, and a bit brain-breaking (so many logistical details, and I'm not there to actually handle any of them; behold my control-freak nature) but we're getting stuff documented.

The replacement phone was due to arrive on Wednesday. It did not, in fact, arrive on Wednesday; somewhere in there I saw the arrival date had changed to Thursday. And then it did not arrive on Thursday. This made me cross, and worried.

I've been using the phrase "Call if you'd like" a lot with the partner. It doesn't necessarily take into account the complexities of their reality, in which they may want to call me but other factors make it unlikely, but it does extend a friendly invitation.

My partner spends a substantial chunk of time on the phone with their ex, for reasons that I find good and sufficient (and that get up my nose, because their ex is a piece of work). My partner has taken to responding to their ex's inquiries about whether they are available to be called with, "Call if you'd like."

The ex has taken a strong exception to this phrase. It implies, you see, that perhaps my partner does not want to be talking to them, and would only begrudgingly do so because the ex had forced the conversation on them. So the phrase makes the ex not want to call, because the ex doesn't like to feel ~unwelcomed~ or like they're ~pushy~ about these friendly social calls. So the ex badgers my partner to not use that phrase. Because that's what friendly exes do, to make sure that all their calls are welcome.

I got to have a nice chat with my partner, as they did in fact want to call me. Unfortunately, I saw the phone ring without either my watch or headset humming at me to let me know that there was a call. So I wound up putting the phone on my face like it was a handset.

I did eventually reboot the phone after we were done talking, and it started acknowledging bluetooth again. Sigh.

I called Darkside to catch up. He was playing Saints Row 3, which is excessively silly. We giggled over it. And I managed to drop a decorative metal basket (with sharp edges) on my hand when moving things around in it, so I shredded two fingernails and a bit of callus on one fingertip. Alas.

Darkside and I generally avoid talking politics. This time I mentioned being afraid. Read more... )

So that was fun.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
Purple's response to my proposed last name indicates that he sees much more of my cranky side than my sunny side.

Darkside heard my proposed name and started thinking through the possible jokes. Though first he apologized for coming down on the wrong side of my legal name. He'd been using the version reserved for school, work, taxes, and trouble.

One of the jokes was meh. One was inevitable and charming. One obscure 80s one had me telling him that I adore him. I have not yet introduced him to a particular song which I see as the start of a whole series of jokes.

I think I have his blessing, and that matters more than I had realized.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
3/31 Tuesday
Got to work about 5 minutes before Purple, by the login times. He parked, as it would turn out, one over from me.
Lunch was good, peaceful.
I feel like I'm playing catch-up a lot.
I didn't have plans for tomorrow, but then I developed some. Heh.
StPatience is having a bad week :(

An insect incident )

That led to other discussions of texting-while-doing; I once fell down some (short) stairs due to reading while walking.

I wound up explaining the one-year gap in wearing my star. "A dude was involved" is a way I have come to sometimes explain some of my more random-seeming decisions to Purple. (I much less often do dumb-ass shit which involves ladies or honorable other-gendered sentients.) It has been quite some time since I actually laid out the reasons why I reacted differently to That Valentine's Day (wherein I was the third wheel in the next room from where the dude I liked banged someone else) and That Rather Bad Evening With Shawn (where the dude I liked banged someone else on the bed that I was trying to sleep on).

I called Kat on the way home. It was good to talk with her. Our brains work better when they are connected.

Now I am trying to get to bed early so I can go in to work and set up the thing.
azurelunatic: part of a triangle filled with alternately black and red hearts, increasingly smaller in a sierpinski triangle pattern (hearts)
Sunday was not a great day in the department of menstruation. Specifically, it all decided to come out at a great rate. After I got to sleep from the whole electrical fire, I had to get up and ditch blood regularly. Sunday was a quiet day. Then I went to bed early and was more or less asleep for thirteen hours.

At lunch, I came to the gentle realization that one of the reasons that I had been so nervous about telling Darkside that [birthname] is not really one that I answer to anymore, is because I was not allowed to have preferences of my own around Shawn. Purple saw the dawning horror on my face and said many sweetly vicious things that prompted me to smile mistily and press paired fingers against his sleeve. [personal profile] norabombay mentioned, later, that a name change is a significant thing that comes with a nonzero chance of friends and family rejecting it, even people who ought to be close and ought to know better. But yeah, Shawn's shadow looms longer than previously thought.

lb saw a familiar face on campus, in the company of a recruiter.

My phone's battery has been not great. Alas.

The Stage Manager left me a donation toward my candy dish.

Today was one of those days where it seemed like all I did was talk with helpdesk. I also tried to do beta on some helpdesk stuff, but not all of the pieces were in order. Then I tried to put some stuff in the wiki, only to find that the wiki was broken. So I had to call helpdesk again.

The white sour balls may be possibly pear-flavored, Purple said.

He'd come in late enough to have a parking spot of opportunity. Mine was further down the same row, at the other end. We chatted for a while. My eyeshadow included some glitter, which had been catching the light and reflecting off my glasses, causing slight distraction. This was not a light source Purple would have guessed. He hugged me gently but thoroughly and we split. Tomorrow night is the deadline for some papers that have to be graded. He has a couple left.

I did get a good chat in with Nora, through the commute and into the grocery store. Then I came home and started laundry and cooked dinner and read some internet.
azurelunatic: Escher's Order and Chaos drawing: geometric solids and broken things.  (Order and Chaos)
I managed to crunch through the last of the month's transcription on Friday.

Purple brought the disc. Now I have to figure out time to watch it. Lunch was pleasant. The three-hole punches have been secured.

As it got later into the evening, I pinged Purple to see if he had dinner plans. They were vague. After they firmed up, he asked me if I was in. I was. So I finished the transcription and started tidying my to-do list and tallying up my hours. Then I brushed my hair (which I'd left loose, since it was Friday) and put on lipstick.

Parking in downtown Mountain View was a subbasement of hell. Having gone all the way through one garage and come out the other end unparked, I saw Purple crossing the street. He waved me off the second garage; I obediently turned and sought street parking. Which I found, at length. Then I hiked in the direction of the pizza place.

I arrived to find Purple chatting happily with Mr. Zune and girlfriend; Ms. Antisocialest was there but hadn't been properly introduced. Mr. Zune and his girlfriend headed on their way, and the rest of us waited for a table. I was happy that I'd swapped my cardigan for the jacket. (And Purple still looked really good in his.) We were seated outdoors. Somehow I got to contemplating how to make siege weaponry from common tabletop items, just around the time when the very elastic mozzarella flung a tomato at Ms. Antisocialest.

lb does not like this pizza place, as he is from Chicago and has some very specific ideas about how deep-dish should be done. Pizza is a religious issue. I am a polytheist.

Punkin Chunkin -> I am not allowed to blow pumpkins at Purple either.

Dinner rule: he who grabs the whole tab gets to take home the last two pieces of pizza. Purple claimed the leftovers.

As we were saying goodnight, Ms. Antisocialest said "See you next time", which made me simultaneously happy and awkward.

Purple walked me back to my car. It was a lovely night, and wasn't dripping. We chatted for a bit. I had inadvertently parked on The Other Guy's street, just a few houses down. If I get finished with Catching Fire, Purple miiiight be up for a movie excursion, though his plans are essentially becoming one with his couch. The vacation has been a long time coming for the amount of work he's been doing. (And with my approval or without, Purple is very warm. This has my approval anyway.)


Saturday, I mostly slept, although I did venture forth for groceries.
Sunday, there was some writing.

I called Darkside, yay! His parents are in town for Thanksgiving. The rate his parents are zooming through things on Netflix is going to inevitably result in a close encounter with the bandwidth cap. The Evil Dead musical is coming through Phoenix in a while. Before we said goodnight, he had one quick thing to ask me: did I listen to podcasts at all? Had I heard of Welcome to Night Vale?

"... I recommended that one to you."

So he had, in fact, fallen in love instantly. And he works with a certain number of WtNV fans, including one shift lead who was wearing a NVCR Intern shirt. :D
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
13 years ago Saturday, I pledged to be the friend who didn't fall off the radar for Darkside. It has worked out rather better than he thought it would so far. :)
Tags:
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
Got to chat with Darkside on Sunday. Yay! He expressed dubious growliness at the idea that the security guard would be providing advances while on duty, and made various terrible bee-related jokes given the setup of blowing the wasp at Purple. Since Darkside turns out to be one of my more clean-minded friends, this is particularly fun. (He's not actually clean-minded. This is just comparatively.)

I felt a switch in my head go click as I was talking to Purple on Thursday night. I don't know if it's a particularly decisive switch, but it's something different. So I wanted to at least write that down, to see where my brain went after.

One of the things that will eat my brain if I'm not careful, is that Darkside and Purple have the same given name. Darkside is the best $NAME most of the time, but Purple gets to be the best for little bits, about fifteen minutes at a time, generally connected to when he's said something that's a particularly heinous pun. So Darkside asked whether Purple was a good $NAME. "Yes," I said fondly. "Good. Tell him he get cookie." So I emailed Purple, giggling all the while.

Entirely coincidentally, when I came in to work today, there was a small tub of cookies on my desk. I recognized the container, and thanked my Overlady once I saw she was off the phone (much to the surreal confusion of the Hipster Researcher).

There's an ongoing situation at work which I've been keeping my eye on; that seems to be well on its way to resolution today.

Helpdesk shenanigans continue to shenan. I will offer this commentary. How much about email do you know?

Multipart email comes in more than one section. Often there are two sections: text/plain and text/html. The text/html section is the one with the fancy markup and clickable links. The text/plain section is for the benefit of mail readers who don't do all that newfangled stuff.

The text/plain section is supposed to have a copy of any URLs included in the text/html section. That's correct, helpdesk, you aren't generally able to click on them (aside from those plain text mail readers which recognize the http:// or https:// bit and do the smart thing). The expected use case for URLs in the text/plain section is for the user to copy them and paste them into her browser.

IF ALL YOU HAVE IS THE INCIDENT NUMBER, THAT DOES JACK-ALL WHEN PASTING INTO THE BROWSER.

My manager is always relieved to note when incidents involving me shouting at helpdesk conclude without me having actually sworn at helpdesk. After all, some people's capslock keys do occasionally get stuck.


The guys (well, R, and then the guys in #cupcake followed suit) decided that it was milkshake o'clock. So they (minus phone) congregated in front of my cube. Mr. Zune noticed the cookies on the collaboration table. Purple suggested that they had been made with poison. I said that I knew the provenance of the cookies, but cannily did not vouch for their safety. Mr. Zune decided against a cookie at that time. The conversation carried us a good portion of the way over to R's cube. She was missing, having gone upstairs to collect her non-broken new computer. (Purple: If I get punched for saying terrible things, I'm going to be pretty sore.) (Good luck that when the fist stays a foot away.)

My Overlady was visible in the secret milkshake dungeon; I invited her to join our party, but she was waiting on a teammate for coffee.

Among the random stories was that time when Mama's best friend was visiting, and the ladies were talking child rearing woes downstairs, while Tay and I played with her best friend's very small (well, five-ish) and autistic son upstairs.

Now, one of the features of the house was that it is mostly two big rooms -- at the time there was the big room downstairs, plus the bathroom and the pantry tucked behind the interior wall of the bathroom -- and then the upstairs, and at some point my little room off in the corner there. The acoustics were fabulous -- if it was said downstairs, it was clearly audible upstairs.

Tay and I, by unspoken agreement, had never mentioned this fact to our parents. Since generally they were the only ones talking quietly downstairs when we were upstairs, and we were rarely trying to be quiet downstairs while they were trying to sleep, they had never cottoned on.

Mama's best friend began to unload her heart about how very hard it was to have a shattering marriage and nearly sole responsibility for an autistic kid.

Tay and I looked at each other. The little guy might have all sorts of things going on, but we knew there was nothing wrong with his hearing, and it was obvious that he was hearing every word. I scrammed downstairs and urgently but quietly informed Mama and her best friend that due to this one weird trick with acoustics, every word they were saying was broadcast upstairs in full clarity. Where the little guy was.

This was news to Mama, and she clearly had many questions about what exactly we had heard over the years of her thinking she was having fully private conversations with FatherSir, but this was not the moment to air these questions. This was the moment to take the tea outside, where they could have a real private talk.

#cupcake is rowdy under the best of circumstances. I'm not sure what our teammate made of us. My Overlady is long accustomed to people around me being loud and weird.


Purple realized that he has not shaved in a while. I mentioned that his moustache was coming in nicely. He's not sure whether he'll be keeping it or not.

I learned a lot more about the various dynamics of Purple's HOA board than I was really intending to learn.

Purple got a cookie out of my little tub. I assured him that it was not poison. He cheerfully accepted the cookie, because he knows that if I've deemed a cookie not poison, it does not have lurking walnuts, which many otherwise sensible people like to put in chocolate chip cookies, rendering them inedible for those of us with walnut allergies.

I had been wrong by an hour about the closing time of Borderlands. Woops. Alas. No The Winter Long for me tonight. Alas. Purple was sympathetic.

My tweets

8/9/14 12:03
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
I had to explain the recent helpdesk remote control debacle. That also involved the new software. He grimly suggested some of the exact problems which are happening with the rollout. Did I mention that Darkside is a helpdesk tech?

I mentioned the lack of care about the Linux only users in another rollout, and he audibly rolled his eyes. "What did they think that group of red hats over there were?"

"That's Carmen San Diego. She has stolen the silicon from Silicon Valley."

Darkside is the best Darkside. He laughs at my terrible 80s jokes.

I used the dishwasher incident as an example of the type of ticket that needed to be public.

"Wait, why are you calling the *helpdesk* to troubleshoot your dishwasher?"

"Oh, no, Facilities uses the helpdesk software too. But we had a bunch of engineers."

"Have you tried turning the dishwasher on and off again?"

"No no, the engineers are not at the helpdesk. They're *at* the *dishwasher*."

"Why do I get the feeling that the dishwasher's warranty is no longer valid?"

"*I* didn't get *my* screwdrivers. This time."

"... ..."

Best Darkside.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
Because if I don't post this now, I probably won't manage to.



14:53 2014-06-29

Congratulations to Shawn for arriving at 34 years of age alive and with a lovely family. (If I've missed some horrible announcement on Facebook, I'm going to feel really really bad.)

My dad called; he's proud of my presentation. He's also given Tay and her young man his blessing (whatever that means). (The "whatever that means" was part of the blessing, not my interpretation on it.)

Work conference:
Wednesday I already talked about.

Thursday: somewhat more subdued! I arrived at a still-early hour, because traffic. I was gratified to see that umbrellas had popped up like mushrooms over the patio, overnight. Breakfast was happily shaded.

I stepped out to keep an eye out for the arriving executive, who I described as a tall thinnish white guy with a pointy nose and a wheelie bag. There are at least two such, and that guy wasn't the one.

Then I was distracted by the state of the patio. As the earth rotates, the attitude of the sun in relation to the tables and umbrellas inevitably had changed. By the time the facilities dudes arrived, the events lady and I had wrestled three out of the original six umbrellas into the best new position. The facilities dudes took care of the remaining three, and brought a seventh.

After lunch, I went to the How To Talk To Product Teams breakout, which was a helpful airing of some of the process and communications grievances, and ideas for working on it.

The closing guests were from True&Co. Their talk was delightful, but their product made me openly weep, because I'm not in their size range and I really wish they served my bra size.

Chairwoman Sparkles closed the conference and then it was all over but the cleanup. Since we wish to be allowed to use the auditorium again, we found it prudent to pre-clean so the cleaning crew would not find it entirely trashed. Which we did.

I drove back around to our buildings, dropped some things off at my cube, and then poked my head in Purple's office. Purple kindly allowed me to meep and flail for a while. Apparently I did not sound quite as pathetic as I felt. Then, traffic having died down some, I conclude that I must have gone home.


Friday: not content to just curl up in my bed all day, I went to the Skype building to participate in some user research on an adjacent offering from Microsoft. I had many things to say, but I can't talk about them. The researcher knew my Overlady from earlier days. I offered to make the attempt to introduce the researcher to the team at work who is rolling out a product, for some more in-depth research, if they wind up working things out.

The researcher had to go back to reset the room for the next session, and I wandered outside, where the afternoon shift receptionist hailed me from where he was standing around on break. One brief and surreal conversation later, he had my email address and the dates I'd next be likely to be free for coffee or something (July 4th weekend).

Work was mostly trying to get stuff done so the rest could wait until I was back from osbridge.



Open Source Bridge was a thing which happened!

Saturday: Packing. Cleaning. Picking up my new glasses from Costco. Going to bed with a sick headache, possibly due to the new glasses.

Sunday: Cleaning mostly canceled on the grounds that [personal profile] kaberett had to go straight back to the UK rather than come to SF. Packing continued.

Monday: driving. Lots of driving.

Tuesday: first day, and terrified laptop problems. Costco run. Meet Bell.

Wednesday: all the slides, presenting, and fun!

Thursday: the other two talks from my group, and buttons, and dinner. I snagged some of Kat's calamari. It was good.

Friday: sleep, unconference, and dinner. I snagged some of Kat's calamari. It was good. Arranging the transfer from Guardian to Bell.

Saturday: leisurely departure, and ALL THE DRIVING. Followed by a nap.

Sunday: Having awoken from the nap, still driving! And then home. And sleep. And my dad called! And errands! And calling Darkside, and him calling back. :) On meeting a certain geek celebrity: "Have you seen [show], where [titular character] makes an appearance?" "Ego the size of a small spaceship?" "Maybe not a small one."


Other entries:

http://kareila.dreamwidth.org/917829.html


Monday: catching up on things at work. Purple's officemate is clearly Spiders Georg, who works in a cave in Palo Alto. (This, because spiders, not officemate's fault ).) Gave Purple one of the two little plain purple buttons. He did not question why he was being given a purple button, because he knew.


lololol:

Tracing route to www.livejournal.com [208.93.0.150]
over a maximum of 30 hops:

1 * General failure.
azurelunatic: "catch me if I fall", shooting star (catch me if I fall . . .)
Highlights from the day:

Hooray for 40% response (all positive) in the first 45 minutes for a research recruitment! I am reminded of an exchange with you-know-who regarding my worries when I'd sent out 10+ invitations and got no response, not even an autoresponder, within 24 hours, so things like this make me smug in retrospect.

ex-interns, databases, and more. )


So after Purple got un-hella-busy... and he said something including "long-term memory loss", and of course "Amnesia" starts playing in my head, and he mentions getting the Chumbawamba earworm, which leads to me mentioning humor involving imagined animal harm, spiders )

Newsflesh )


One of the tales I was telling Purple involved mentioning the dude who is here called Scotty, but whose name as it is known to the CIA and the IRS is one $REDACTED "Riccochet" $REDACTEDLASTNAME, and I referred to him as "$REDACTED the First". "But I'm $REDACTED the best, aren't I?" he teased.

"No, that would be my best friend forever $REDACTED," I advised.

"Fair enough. $REDACTED the second-best?"

So I had to explain how there was a problem with a plethora of $REDACTEDs, by naming off five of them. He, too, could hear the difference in four out of five, and saw how the lack of distinction could be a problem. (And yeah, he is probably $REDACTED the second-best, but he may not get to know that for a while.)


I showed off my headphone repairs. We groused about weekends and exhaustion. There was an "alas" "a lass" & "likewise" exchange that earned me a high-five.


And thus into Friday.
azurelunatic: melting chocolate teapot (418)
Called BFF. His battery situation continues, much to his annoyance. I fear the day when he feels he has to purchase a smartphone. I predict yelling.

Sleep was kinda spotty. Ugh. I'd wanted to hit work early but between the one thing and the other, later sleep won.

I was debating what my tag for horrifying email-related shenanigans would be ([personal profile] zarhooie, Darkside agrees with you, more or less, because the only reference he could find for "shenaniganry" was UrbanDictionary, and it's his considered opinion that a citation in UrbanDictionary is a point against it being a Real Word) and was first thinking that it could be "exchange you to the circus", but that made very little sense, not even the surreal sense that "$PRODUCT is a verb" does -- but then realized that I had the wrong end of the stick. So now any and all shenanigans are "Outlook not so good".

Outlook is heavy on double-key presses, which makes it less good for someone who likes the keyboard. Search feels like it's missing chunks; I want it to do in folder but not categorized with $CATEGORY, but I think I have yet to manage that syntax. (Either that or it can't, but that would make me sad.) I use a lot of categories and I have a lot of folders. This makes my use case complicated, terrifying, and edge.

There's nothing like a good, old-fashioned romp through brute-force data-mangling in the absence of better tools to make one appreciate life. That was my afternoon with the database. Just before all that started, the noise-canceling headphones that make this sort of thing possible decided to break, in a really dumb way: Read more... )
azurelunatic: We're about to set a weirdness baseline the likes of which the planet has never seen.  (weirdness baseline)
The flappy plane is beeping at the fluffy nutchewer, and I am braining about hard squares of tasty submarines.

That is to say, the fishbrick concept keeps getting built upon.

Fishbrick. )
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (best friends forever)
My dear best friend has forbidden me from catching on fire or stabbing any workplace email administrator or technical support type. Himself being himself, he then mentioned some of the many loopholes, and we joined in this game for a bit.

I mentioned fishbrick. He would not have used hot glue. What he would have done is cast the brick out of concrete, and while it was still mushy, embedded the anchovies in the top and then let it cure that way. However, that would not be his Windows Express medium of choice. Oh no. Give him some halibut, give him a bucket, give him a freezer.


He expressed his surprise that upon Researcher Carmageddon's declaration that was shaped like "Let's host a gathering! It'll be easy!" that I did not fire Researcher Carmageddon into space and use him as target practice. I like Researcher Carmageddon! He occasionally frustrates me, but he does not irk me as a co-worker, and I would have a beer with him. (Even if I might think three times before accepting a ride from him.)

To be fair, Researcher Carmageddon did not in fact say "It'll be easy!" He said "can you help out with this?" and then (after it was over) "$EXTERNALDUDE said he was impressed with how easily we hosted this but in fact it was not easy, we just made it look easy and a lot of people helped, especially Azz who kept me sane."

I've been contemplating on the calibration of the BFF's protectiveness. I appreciate the protectiveness! But he is also accustomed to an iteration of me who allowed a rather excessive amount of treading-upon in the name of various peacekeeping, so he is quick to take umbrage on my behalf against (real or imagined) offenders, when it's more situations than people these days. Hm.


I should possibly figure out if we can maybe attempt to watch MythBusters together remotely. That used to be one of our things when we were local. It would take more doing remotely, but we both have DVRs. I called while he was in the middle, so he giggled about it and I played Solitaire and it was nice.

He's on the second battery for his communicator phone, and they're getting harder to come by. He's happy about being able to drop his phone with impunity, and lorded it over the silly smartphone users (yours truly included). I'm happy with my protective case. He pointed out the very large vulnerable spot, where all you have to do is drop it from five feet face-down onto a rock and you're fucked. This indeed is so.


All in all, a lovely Saturday evening.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
Read more... )
azurelunatic: A spray of $CELEBRATORY_FIZZY_BEVERAGE from a beribboned bottle caught in the moment just after the cork pops. (champagne)
23:30 2013-10-25
week is over. Food is had. Halloween party was fun.

Yesterday:
Grandmanager: "Anyone have any other business for the team meeting?"
Me: "The Halloween party's tomorrow, so we should" *little hand wave* "wear clothes."

Yes, Rev. Lunatic, yes we should.

A half-hour of frantic googling netted me the idea that in keeping with the theme, I could be a random character that you'd see on a poster for a 1930s sci-fi movie. My outfit: improbable hair (bangs moussed within an inch of their life and slicked sideways across my forehead, with a few curls standing out, then a silver sequined scarf wrapped around my head and my back hair put up in randomish coils), dramatic makeup (iridescent white eyeshadow, heavy black eyeliner, red red lips with purple glitter), a long-sleeved tunic with glittery embellishments (a long-sleeved shirt with glittery embellishments, and a tunic-length sleeveless nightshirt over that), my awesome awesome fluorite necklace, skintight pants/tights (long underwear and long socks), and high heels (with square, boot-type heels, but not actually boot-height; they ought to have been thigh-high boots though). Also long gloves and a Deco-influenced labradorite ring. Oh, and a light-up blaster with sound effects. Everything but the gloves and blaster were already in my closet. (Though the heels did not survive the night.)

It took me a while to come up with a backstory, but it eventually got there.

Peril on Station Zimbra
A dangerous solar storm forces the explorers to take refuge in abandoned Station Zimbra. But will the ancient menace that lurks in the station computer be more dangerous than the radiation outside?
*dramatic brass flourish*

I saw one of the #cupcake crew, who might be nicknamed The Renaissance Man, and we chatted. I eventually realized that he'd never met Mr. Zune in person, so I performed that introduction. Mr. Zune left to go retrieve his girlfriend; when he returned with her, she and I bonded briefly on account of a shared frustration with some programs we both have to use.

The high heels were insufficiently padded and apparently slightly too small, so not only were they hurting my feet, but the top seam on the right one split. I spent half the time standing in my stocking feet in the cool grass, and by the end of it all, I walked back to my desk carrying the shoes, pink and glowing, hair falling out all over the place and the sequined scarf trailing down my back in the unmistakable aftermath of a pretty dang good party.

There were superheroes and princesses and mermaids and ninjas and an amazing hired wolfman who at one point started doing the Thriller dance, and hot dogs and fries and chicken-and-waffles and Frankenstein's Monster marshmallows on sticks, and all manner of delightful little things. I didn't bring a water bottle. I should have brought a water bottle. The best costume was Facebook -- the kid's face was sticking out a hole in the middle of a prop book, while wearing the right color blue shirt and pants. The shirt had the Facebook F on it. It was awesome.



01:30 2013-10-27
Called BFF earlier. The Renaissance Man told me about one of his Halloween stunts, involving apparent headlessness with shirt over head, masked pumpkin under arm, and a grown-ass man screaming and running a block. The BFF had once dressed up in a face-covering robe thing on a chair by the door and scared the shit out of some trick-or-treaters. I facilitated a story exchange. The Renaissance Man and the BFF share a first name, which was also shared by one of The Renaissance Man's teammates who was also there, and a manager who cruised past. "We're everywhere," the BFF said spookily at me. Heh. :D

This time we wound up talking him nearly out of battery. We both seemed mostly zombified this time. Alas.
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (best friends forever)
It was a Wednesday, so I ducked out for a few minutes into one of the phone rooms and made a call.

The BFF was hanging out with some friends, so we were brief.

"HI DARKSIDE'S GIRLFRIEND!" shouted the peanut gallery.

"He just calls you that for some reason."

"I'm not his girlfriend!" I called back.

There was hilarity from the room. Giggling. Giggling like sixth-graders trying to do the mash-faces-together thing with their friends, the way you do with action figures.

"I am your friend," I mused. "And technically I'm a girl some of the time. But I'm still not your girlfriend." It is a reasonable mistake to make. I guess we keep in contact well enough that I'm a viable presence to people I've never been introduced to.
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (best friends forever)
"Sometimes I think I've lost my marbles."
"Didn't you used to keep a marble in the pocket of your suit jacket?"
"Yeah, but I can't find it anymore. I've lost my marbles."
[Something involving a b/v blur occurs.]
"Well, at least it's not DC."
"I dunno, living in DC would be ... Super, man."
"You'd have to be bats. No, wait, that's Gotham."
[something something Robin something]
"That was a ... Dick move."
"Sometimes I ... wonder, woman."

BEST.
Tags:

Yay BFF

15/6/13 21:57
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
Called the BFF today. It had been a while. My phone decided to reboot itself in the middle of the call.

He did figure out the problem with my number: he'd a very old number saved as my primary number, and my current number as secondary. I'd figured it was something of the like.

He had a hilarious exchange about laundry with his mother as well. They were singing little songs at each other.
Tags:
azurelunatic: Upstretched hands bound at the wrist and chained. (wrists)
(Other bits have been redacted out of this snippet of IRC; I was sharing with #yuletide.) 

[21:39] <Azz> so there I was innocently minding my own business, and my bff sends me a picture of some of the characters from one of his games.
[21:39] <Azz> it's a 3D rendered picture, and he tells me to expand it. I do.
[21:39] <Azz> "Suddenly, leather!" I say. Because it is a huge picture and I have just jumped into the very good rendering of the dude's shiny leather coat.
[21:40] <Azz> "That just sounds wrong," he says. (I concur.)
[21:40] <Azz> More conversation elapses. We are making our farewells.
[21:40] <Azz> "So I'm going to let you ... leather the storm," he says.
[21:40] <Azz> THAT, MY GOOD PEOPLE, IS WHAT YOU CALL A PUN.

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Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺

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