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37 inches of trolling
Sep. 12th, 2014 03:37 amThe switch in my head is not in the position that I previously put it. This is not optimal.
Things are returning to, if not normal, than at least sensible, with the return of my manager. She simultaneously creates motion and stability. She is our rudder. She is also simultaneously trying to be both herself and my grandmanager, because he is out sick and basically won't be back until November. (I don't have details.)
Today I sent a bug report to Office Depot, about their website. It's just a corner case, and technically it's already being caught by their thingies, but it could be handled better.
( Read more... )
Today is my virtual nephew's birthday. Congratulations, dude!
It's starting to feel like fall, which means I'm starting to feel acutely alive again.
Purple still has his beard. I am pleased. I attempted to explain the current state of my brain. I am moderately faceblind: it takes me a certain amount of concerted study to learn someone's face (and match that face with a name). ( Read more... )
There was some disagreement about whether the TV/monitor belonging to my department and plugged into a dubiously tethered Mac Mini is a bigscreen or not. My line for "bigscreen" is, of a flatscreen, whether or not I can reasonably carry it by myself. I cannot with this. So even though it is only 37 usable inches, I think it big. Everything I can carry is small. I don't have a "medium" range. Purple, with his "60 inches of fun" tv, disagrees with me. :-P
I brought up the matter of the nightshift security guard who had alarmed me by greeting me with "hey, beautiful" two weeks ago at my 1:1 with my manager. She immediately went facepalm-equivalent. Having talked it out some previously, I went on to detail that an engineer or someone doing this, I would feel much more comfortable about going "hey, handsome", or "no thank you". But in the case of a security guard, exactly who you gonna call?
I mentioned in #cupcake; lb evidenced relief. Purple sent me a vaguely baffled PM. He trusted that the security guard factor made it worse because I said it was, but he still didn't understand why.
We talked about it for a while. For me, the horror strikes at the "Who you gonna call?" moment. There were, I said, a lot of different shades of discomfort. (And simultaneously, Purple and I both arrived at the number 50 just out of thegrey blue, though he was the first to say it. Bonding moment over our terrible, terrible senses of humor.) ( Read more... )
Later, there was a conversational reason to mention power dynamics, and Purple mentioned that some people discovered that they had a kink for same (having observed some of the people he knew saying "ugh power dynamics bad" and then ...) and I mentioned that this was one of the factors in my thing for Shawn. "But that would mean that you ... looked up to him?" Purple said in deep bafflement. ( And a new take on the air taser incident. )
From there we digressed into my dad's taser binder, and his dad's acid-tipped darts. These men should never meet.
I realized I should probably hit the restroom before hitting the road. (Insert digression about fruitless hobbies involving punching the wrong things.) When I came back out, Purple was milling around my team's lobby like an aimless pinball, and the drawer adjacent to thebig uncomfortably large to move by yourself screen (currently showing the Non-Boring Manager's choice, our standards page) was a little more ajar than I'd left it.
"Fuck single-sign-on," Purple declared, and began to castigate the new helpdesk software in stronger terms than I'd heard him complain about it previously. It was terrible! You had to sign in to even see the front page!
I looked at the monitor, looked back at him, and began to snicker.
"You'd have to leave yourself signed in if you wanted to leave it up there!" he complained. "You could at least go to the front page on the old one!"
Dear sweet Purple. I went over, fiddled about with the keyboard a little, and re-arranged things so the drawer would close better. (And if my fingers happened to hit command-T, http://[oldhelpdesk.dept.virtualhammer.biz], enter while I was fumbling about with it, well, that was just an unfortunate coincidence, eh? How clumsy of me.)
Things are returning to, if not normal, than at least sensible, with the return of my manager. She simultaneously creates motion and stability. She is our rudder. She is also simultaneously trying to be both herself and my grandmanager, because he is out sick and basically won't be back until November. (I don't have details.)
Today I sent a bug report to Office Depot, about their website. It's just a corner case, and technically it's already being caught by their thingies, but it could be handled better.
( Read more... )
Today is my virtual nephew's birthday. Congratulations, dude!
It's starting to feel like fall, which means I'm starting to feel acutely alive again.
Purple still has his beard. I am pleased. I attempted to explain the current state of my brain. I am moderately faceblind: it takes me a certain amount of concerted study to learn someone's face (and match that face with a name). ( Read more... )
There was some disagreement about whether the TV/monitor belonging to my department and plugged into a dubiously tethered Mac Mini is a bigscreen or not. My line for "bigscreen" is, of a flatscreen, whether or not I can reasonably carry it by myself. I cannot with this. So even though it is only 37 usable inches, I think it big. Everything I can carry is small. I don't have a "medium" range. Purple, with his "60 inches of fun" tv, disagrees with me. :-P
I brought up the matter of the nightshift security guard who had alarmed me by greeting me with "hey, beautiful" two weeks ago at my 1:1 with my manager. She immediately went facepalm-equivalent. Having talked it out some previously, I went on to detail that an engineer or someone doing this, I would feel much more comfortable about going "hey, handsome", or "no thank you". But in the case of a security guard, exactly who you gonna call?
I mentioned in #cupcake; lb evidenced relief. Purple sent me a vaguely baffled PM. He trusted that the security guard factor made it worse because I said it was, but he still didn't understand why.
We talked about it for a while. For me, the horror strikes at the "Who you gonna call?" moment. There were, I said, a lot of different shades of discomfort. (And simultaneously, Purple and I both arrived at the number 50 just out of the
Later, there was a conversational reason to mention power dynamics, and Purple mentioned that some people discovered that they had a kink for same (having observed some of the people he knew saying "ugh power dynamics bad" and then ...) and I mentioned that this was one of the factors in my thing for Shawn. "But that would mean that you ... looked up to him?" Purple said in deep bafflement. ( And a new take on the air taser incident. )
From there we digressed into my dad's taser binder, and his dad's acid-tipped darts. These men should never meet.
I realized I should probably hit the restroom before hitting the road. (Insert digression about fruitless hobbies involving punching the wrong things.) When I came back out, Purple was milling around my team's lobby like an aimless pinball, and the drawer adjacent to the
"Fuck single-sign-on," Purple declared, and began to castigate the new helpdesk software in stronger terms than I'd heard him complain about it previously. It was terrible! You had to sign in to even see the front page!
I looked at the monitor, looked back at him, and began to snicker.
"You'd have to leave yourself signed in if you wanted to leave it up there!" he complained. "You could at least go to the front page on the old one!"
Dear sweet Purple. I went over, fiddled about with the keyboard a little, and re-arranged things so the drawer would close better. (And if my fingers happened to hit command-T, http://[oldhelpdesk.dept.virtualhammer.biz], enter while I was fumbling about with it, well, that was just an unfortunate coincidence, eh? How clumsy of me.)
