Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2014-01-24 01:28 am
azurelunatic) wrote2014-01-24 01:28 am
Researcher Carmageddon's event happened!
There was pizza. More pizza would have been better; keeping co-workers who were not attending the event from sniping would have also been better. (I think moving up the delivery time would have helped also, to decrease the window at the risk of possibly late pizza.)
We doubled up on nametags: we had ours that we did, and also the dude who does the meetup had some specific ones. (Ours were pretty awesome, and they worked for the people who just sorta showed up.)
There were a bunch of people who used to work with us showed up: I got to meet the guy who had the cabinets before me. I feel honored.
The libations were no problem as per usual.
My Overlady got where she was going safely (it turns out that a great but one of those things you could never see coming way to stress me out is to have me dealing with a time-sensitive remote travel-related thing in an unfamiliar email system) and stuff. But fortunately it was something where I could just call instead of bashing my head on the email search (I am going to have to read their manual) for the email address that one of the A-Team left us.
I have WORDS for helldesk regarding fucking tags and the fucking trip back from Kipper/Llama. Fuck.
A/V got set up fine, and now I know how to dial in to the conference system from the big room, and that the max mics we can get in there is four.
Campus signs went up and people seemed able to find us. I decided that monitoring the organizey group comments and also the Twitter hashtag was within my duties as minion. As far as I know, nothing too bad happened. Next time I'm going to also try to pre-print directional signs for HEY YOU ARE HERE rather than last-minute it.
I wound up wearing:
black hiking sandals, black socks, long black skirt, black trapeeze-cut top, one of my usual black cardigans (I was ready to deploy the team jacket but it was a bit too warm and no one else was), my D10 necklace (it's a silver-tone spiral cage, and the D10 looks like the glittery plastic version of azurite-malachite, which is of course my namestone), dark red lip crayon and glittery lip gloss, a touch of eyeliner, the top layer of my hair pulled back into a simple twist and secured with a really pretty decorative hairpin, with the end joining the rest loose down my back, and then a sprinkle of white glitter to top it all off. Various of my teammates complimented what I'd done with my hair. (Usually I have engineer-hair, involving a very long braid with flyaways that increase by a schedule involving the length of the day, what my tech has done lately, and how much prep time I put in before zipping out the door at home.)
Midway through Designer Rocky's presentation, when everything was running as smoothly as it was likely to go, with no particular crisis in sight, I slipped out the back and upstairs, and into the Renaissance Man's office, where I succeeded my will save against crying over the sheer number of People in that room. I am introvert. Watch me engage in self-care in a generally responsible fashion.
After a while I went back down, and due to my general paranoia checked where the late run of the shuttle ought to be. It wasn't there. I checked the other places it could be, and found it at the usual stop. I felt moderately bad about disturbing the driver ten minutes before it was time, but on the other hand, there was a communication bobble and she wouldn't have been where the people somewhere else in the communications chain had agreed that she'd be at let-out time, and by the time she got there, I had scared up a soda and a small array of chocolate. And the people who needed the shuttle got on it.
By that time it had cleared out to a reasonable number of people. Then the crew and I cleaned up as people headed out. Then it was just internal folks left. We headed our various ways. I continued to not cry in the company of the Renaissance Man, who was waiting for stuff to finish running.
"Playing 'Edward 40 Hands' with superglue" is a custom Cards Against Humanity card waiting to happen. This update brought to us by the good services of #FISHBRICK.
I did not double my step count today, which is why I am willing to countanance the thought of setting foot outside of my bed tomorrow, because currently, my body is not entirely into that idea. (However, since double is usually the magic line under which I'm not entire yelly jelly the next day, and over is where I get the bad consequences, I'm willing to accept now the idea that tomorrow will be okay.) The Renaissance Man had not previously seen me in a state of Having Overdone, and is not used to the volume of profanity which ensues. Not the loudness, the sheer number of incidents. A good bit of it is not even whispered, which can be surreal at first.
I explained the Bisexual Gauntlet to a straightdude! You know, the one where you say "I'm bisexual!" and then the person to whom you have come out expects you to pull out charts to establish that you are somewhere near the theoretical 50%, because apparently if you are a woman and bang 8 dudes, it cancels out the weekend where you and another woman had rather a lot of mindblowing sex that was all about your genuine attraction to her and not "experimentation" or what have you. Apparently scoring a screaming 5 on your Advanced Placement cunnilingus class makes you "confused", whereas if you are a man, one lick of a dick and you're gay forever. The phrase "come out of the closet at" (as opposed to "to") was noticed and appreciated.
That bit was relevant to the bit that I did not attempt a monologue on, where Odo's general inability to do hard physical lines on his body doesn't necessarily say anything about his inability to please a partner in bed if he can't manage a penis. See: cunnilingus. Despite the lack of monologue, two things crossed that were never meant to have been crossed, and I imagined Karkat being introduced to Odo in a bucket. THIS IS NOT A THING THAT SHOULD EVER HAPPEN IN EITHER RESPECTIVE CANON BUT HOT DAMN DO I WANT THE CRACKFIC. Fifty shades of potential wrong.
Sleep soon.
We doubled up on nametags: we had ours that we did, and also the dude who does the meetup had some specific ones. (Ours were pretty awesome, and they worked for the people who just sorta showed up.)
There were a bunch of people who used to work with us showed up: I got to meet the guy who had the cabinets before me. I feel honored.
The libations were no problem as per usual.
My Overlady got where she was going safely (it turns out that a great but one of those things you could never see coming way to stress me out is to have me dealing with a time-sensitive remote travel-related thing in an unfamiliar email system) and stuff. But fortunately it was something where I could just call instead of bashing my head on the email search (I am going to have to read their manual) for the email address that one of the A-Team left us.
I have WORDS for helldesk regarding fucking tags and the fucking trip back from Kipper/Llama. Fuck.
A/V got set up fine, and now I know how to dial in to the conference system from the big room, and that the max mics we can get in there is four.
Campus signs went up and people seemed able to find us. I decided that monitoring the organizey group comments and also the Twitter hashtag was within my duties as minion. As far as I know, nothing too bad happened. Next time I'm going to also try to pre-print directional signs for HEY YOU ARE HERE rather than last-minute it.
I wound up wearing:
black hiking sandals, black socks, long black skirt, black trapeeze-cut top, one of my usual black cardigans (I was ready to deploy the team jacket but it was a bit too warm and no one else was), my D10 necklace (it's a silver-tone spiral cage, and the D10 looks like the glittery plastic version of azurite-malachite, which is of course my namestone), dark red lip crayon and glittery lip gloss, a touch of eyeliner, the top layer of my hair pulled back into a simple twist and secured with a really pretty decorative hairpin, with the end joining the rest loose down my back, and then a sprinkle of white glitter to top it all off. Various of my teammates complimented what I'd done with my hair. (Usually I have engineer-hair, involving a very long braid with flyaways that increase by a schedule involving the length of the day, what my tech has done lately, and how much prep time I put in before zipping out the door at home.)
Midway through Designer Rocky's presentation, when everything was running as smoothly as it was likely to go, with no particular crisis in sight, I slipped out the back and upstairs, and into the Renaissance Man's office, where I succeeded my will save against crying over the sheer number of People in that room. I am introvert. Watch me engage in self-care in a generally responsible fashion.
After a while I went back down, and due to my general paranoia checked where the late run of the shuttle ought to be. It wasn't there. I checked the other places it could be, and found it at the usual stop. I felt moderately bad about disturbing the driver ten minutes before it was time, but on the other hand, there was a communication bobble and she wouldn't have been where the people somewhere else in the communications chain had agreed that she'd be at let-out time, and by the time she got there, I had scared up a soda and a small array of chocolate. And the people who needed the shuttle got on it.
By that time it had cleared out to a reasonable number of people. Then the crew and I cleaned up as people headed out. Then it was just internal folks left. We headed our various ways. I continued to not cry in the company of the Renaissance Man, who was waiting for stuff to finish running.
"Playing 'Edward 40 Hands' with superglue" is a custom Cards Against Humanity card waiting to happen. This update brought to us by the good services of #FISHBRICK.
I did not double my step count today, which is why I am willing to countanance the thought of setting foot outside of my bed tomorrow, because currently, my body is not entirely into that idea. (However, since double is usually the magic line under which I'm not entire yelly jelly the next day, and over is where I get the bad consequences, I'm willing to accept now the idea that tomorrow will be okay.) The Renaissance Man had not previously seen me in a state of Having Overdone, and is not used to the volume of profanity which ensues. Not the loudness, the sheer number of incidents. A good bit of it is not even whispered, which can be surreal at first.
I explained the Bisexual Gauntlet to a straightdude! You know, the one where you say "I'm bisexual!" and then the person to whom you have come out expects you to pull out charts to establish that you are somewhere near the theoretical 50%, because apparently if you are a woman and bang 8 dudes, it cancels out the weekend where you and another woman had rather a lot of mindblowing sex that was all about your genuine attraction to her and not "experimentation" or what have you. Apparently scoring a screaming 5 on your Advanced Placement cunnilingus class makes you "confused", whereas if you are a man, one lick of a dick and you're gay forever. The phrase "come out of the closet at" (as opposed to "to") was noticed and appreciated.
That bit was relevant to the bit that I did not attempt a monologue on, where Odo's general inability to do hard physical lines on his body doesn't necessarily say anything about his inability to please a partner in bed if he can't manage a penis. See: cunnilingus. Despite the lack of monologue, two things crossed that were never meant to have been crossed, and I imagined Karkat being introduced to Odo in a bucket. THIS IS NOT A THING THAT SHOULD EVER HAPPEN IN EITHER RESPECTIVE CANON BUT HOT DAMN DO I WANT THE CRACKFIC. Fifty shades of potential wrong.
Sleep soon.