Lots of Life, not much to post about (except there should be)

Work happened. Beauty, from the upcoming NaNoWriMo 2005, is getting very insistent in my head. She's not quite sure who she is yet, but her story needs to be told. She doesn't even have a name yet. I refuse to allow her to gank rosalynde's.

I was on the phones. I got surveys. I was not sitting next to Figment, alas. I was sitting next to one of the Dowager Empresses of the workplace, a stately woman whose hair usually matches her outfit. I am amazed that I am picking up a reputation for being uniformly sweet and polite and nice on the phones. (I think I mentioned that I got my semiannual review the other day? The Alternate Lead Monitor took me into the back room last Friday and told me that I rock hardcore, and to keep up the good work. At this point, I'm probably more critical of my own performance on the phones than the rest of the monitoring staff is.) The Dowager Empress of Colorful Hair wanted to know if I was really as nice in person as I sound on the phones.

Any batch of new hires means new people to get to know, to screen in and screen out. Part of the process is seeing who's going to wind up in The Crowd. From a recent batch of trainees seem to have emerged two students of the Art Institute in Animation (one graduated, one current) who have been spending breaks with Figment and therefore me as well. I was going to do the simple thing and call the guy (about my age-ish, graduated) the Animator, and the girl (eighteen or nineteen, current student) the Animatrix, but then I recalled a certain cult movie and assorted animated spinoffs, and decided that for confusion's sake, I should probably not bestow that nickname upon the girl. The guy may well wind up being the Animator, and the girl may wind up being the Acolyte.

The Acolyte's alarm bird clock has been acting possessed, so I wound up bringing in my old (still functional) emergency back-up alarm clock (the one that the Little Fayoumis infamously wondered "Is that [Darkside]'s alarm clock?" about) for her to have. It was brand new in 1994, and not all the buttons work anymore, and it eats tapes, but at least it isn't possessed. My tower shelf doesn't have a clock anymore, but at least this way it'll be in use.

Benadryl sends me loopier than a very loopy thing, but at least it helps put a dent in the allergies. And there are bad, bad, bad allergies going around. Rain in the Arizona early spring makes the Arizona late spring unbreathable.

In other news, work is having overtime, hiring a bunch of n00bs, and having 10 hour shifts on Saturdays. (easalle -- I'm working late on the 30th, so I won't be able to make it. Argh.) This will prove to be interesting. dustraven and trystan_laryssa's roommate and GM for the superheroes game is working there now. Insanity shall commence, and shall run screaming in the other direction, because work is going to be post-sane, or knurd, or something like that. There will be far too much caffeine, far too little coherent thought, and far too many supervisors pulling a twelve-hour shift or longer than that.

...Heck, after pulling a few supervisor shifts on the 10 hour phone goon shifts (which translates to a 12+ shift for supervisory staff) I should be able to pull a double-shift Sunday as a phone goon (13 hours, 1/2 hour of which is between shifts) no problem.

Computers & Not-Quite-Geeks

Figment's got a Compaq Presario 2286. He wants to know what can be done for it.

I think I'll pray for it.

Meds warning: Trileptal

Trileptal can cause a life-threatening skin reaction. So, if you're taking this, or know someone who's taking this, keep an eye out for this.

Jokes

You know those Dendarii Hillmen jokes? The ones that could really be told about the backcountry residents of almost any District, but mostly it's the Dendarii Hillmen who get picked on? The ones that are devoid of all real ethnic traits, but full of knuckleheadedness?

I use a variable for the ethnicity when telling those jokes, because that lets me share the silly part of the joke without really being mean.

And they tell 'em about instruments too.


My all time favorite $INSTRUMENT joke goes like this:

So this $INSTRUMENT player was driving cross-country, and stopped in at a diner. They were eating, when suddenly, they came to the realization: I left the $INSTRUMENT in the car in plain sight! So they rushed out to the car, but it was too late. Someone had already broken in...
( ...wait for it... )

And I just now heard a new one that I've fallen in love with:

What do you call a pretty girl on a $INSTRUMENT player's arm?
( *sigh* )

Randomness from Work: play plans, Figment, supervisor names

I'm having fun at work.

I'm actually not doing check-in on the 30th, so provided I get out of work on time that day, I may actually be able to make the play after all! Hooray! I'm thinking the smartest thing to do is bring anything I'll need with me to work and just wait here, vs. slogging home and perhaps being late, which just would not do. Thoughts, easalle? (Work's near home; I can give you directions in a private e-mail.)

My instinct for "times when Figment needs a wake-up call" are getting better. I called him just before I zoomed out the door this morning. He'd been up for all of five minutes; his little black cat had licked him awake where the alarm clock failed.

Today I seated trystan_laryssa and dustraven's roommate/GM (he really needs a nickname) next to the Animator, for the fostering of social development. I have the latitude to do such things, though disruptive combinations of people are discouraged. (I need to avoid the Master of Misinformation whenever possible, the Pugilist needs to avoid the Master of Misinformation whenever possible, and othercat needs to avoid the Master of Misinformation whenever possible. There are several of us with problems with him. There are some of the older women who need to avoid each other lest catfights break out. There were a lot of people who really needed to avoid Mr. Bitter. Fortunately, he doesn't work here anymore. )

My good twin is being a phone goon today. We're trying not to be too obvious about being really close close friends at work, though we can't avoid letting on that we know each other and hang out.

I'm updating my emergency contact information sheet, and re-prioritizing, and adding a contact.

Rev. Nice Super is talking about stripper shoes, far too loudly. I am trying not to laugh too hard. I'm failing. Original Clone Name Super (a guy I haven't mentioned too much, just because we rarely work the same shift and he's fairly bland) was denying that he'd ever used the term "stripper shoes" to talk about the pirhana shoes; Rev. Nice Super was arguing this point at near the top of his lungs.

I've found a potential nickname for the skinny spiky-haired supervisor who was having the conversation about race, tan, and whether or not Superman Shirt Super got any cock. Since he has a foreign name, some of the less globally socialized staff and employees were having trouble remembering/pronouncing his name. Since he was probably tired of being called "hey, you," he picked a generic American Male Name to go by in the workplace as far as the majority of the phone goons were concerned. Unfortunately for the confusion factor, there's another supervisor already named that. So he should be Conflicting Clone Name Super.

Hooray for work, eh?

*cackle*

So Cute Geek Super's been coming and trying to get me to get my cracker friends to help him and Rev. Nice Super cheat at their pimping game online. amberfox expressed curiousity at what he wanted help with; when she found out, there was much mockage of said Cute Geek Super, and his plea for help was blown off.

Now Cute Geek Super is trying to press the issue by saying that if someone won't help them out, they're not really a hacker, they're just a poser, and a real 1337 hacker would crack the thing just to prove they could.

Much mockery of Cute Geek Super has ensued.

Warning: the consort of Eris is Murphy.

Pardon me while I get the stench of char-broiled CARDBOARD out of my BRAND-NEW OVEN...