Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2014-06-13 12:36 am
azurelunatic) wrote2014-06-13 12:36 am
A dollar store shopping trip and a hot glue gun = winning the department picnic
Wednesday:
Apparently I never arrive anywhere, I just sort of ... appear. This according to Madam Standards, who was discussing my trick of doing this with the Party Commandant. (I really have to figure out a name for her that sticks.) I sort of appeared at the morning meeting yesterday (I'd come up via the elevator from the parking lot level, instead of walking down the path) and I was already in the auditorium because I'd arrived an hour before.
I was at work at not quite fuck o'clock to do dry runs in the theatre and get answers from the audio guys about questions we have.
Designer Sparkles got a look at herself on the auditorium camera and declared that she was done with skinny jeans. Then she mentioned finding a doppelganger on Facebook through someone tagging a picture of her with someone else's name -- "... and she looked exactly like me, only she was pretty." Tact and self-preservation kept me from opening my big mouth, because I think she's lovely and a certain engineer I could name has a bit of a crush on her.
After getting audio questions answered, relaying the answers to people over email, and sticking around for the first rehearsal with sound, I headed down the hill to the main campus. I was pleased to realize that I wasn't late for lunch. However, lunch was late enough that Purple's usual lunch group (which has expanded) occupied the better part of a whole double table (14 seats), and Purple hadn't even arrived yet by the time I got there. So I took a seat at a nearby table for two and got caught up on my email. Purple showed up and we had a pleasant meal.
Dessert trucks descended upon campus at about the time I was waiting to talk to the guy about moving some of the bulky and heavy team gear. We finally got an appointment time set, and I went in search of dessert. I had a strawberry shortcake crepe, and while the crepe and berries were delicious, the shortcake fell short.
Later, the moving guy and I got some wires crossed; I eventually stopped waiting for him, went back to my desk, got his cellphone number, went back upstairs, called him, and then talked about the moving-stuff situation. He could have done it Thursday, but I was to be away from my desk most of the day; we settled on Friday morning.
The Nervous Dev continued checking in items; I continued with my keen and slightly less caffeinated QA, and dealt with other inbox items between times. Then I prepared the briefing packet for 2nd Thursday.
Eventually I was just sore and feeling sort of weepy, so stomped over to Purple's office with an "obscenely large" (my manager's phrasing) blowpop. Whereupon we learned that a) quite naturally, my thresholds for jokes about you-and-me-banging with people who don't have fundamentally incompatible sexualities is different than when the incompatibility is somewhat less fundamental, b) my thresholds for jokes ditto when one of us is attracted to the other and the other isn't, also somewhat more sensitive, and c) out of all the various techniques which might be mentioned in a sex joke, when it comes to blowjobs, my thresholds are even more touchy than what's otherwise perfectly hilarious even given b). The whole joke-and-boundary thing took place in well under 30 seconds, and sticks out in my brain because c) wasn't something that I knew about myself prior to that interaction. (Interaction went something like:
Purple: [blowjob joke with implications]
Me: Dude, that one? Not unless you're serious.
Purple: Sorry, and noted. )
So then with two exceptions, I wasn't trying to be pornographic with the blowpop. Those two were very brief and for the sake of demonstration/great hilarity.
Then I went home and eventually got sleep.
Thursday:
It was a 2nd Thursday! I woke up before my alarm and got going, noting in passing that Tuesday's general wrath and Wednesday's woe were explained by the sudden #bloodcannon.
Even with the refueling and packing for the picnic, I was at work very early. I could have used more sleep, but trying for it would have thrown a disproportionate delay into the commute, and that would have been bad. But! I had the comfy chair! So I curled up and tried for a nap in my cube. I realized shortly that I would have to prop my feet on my desk chair in order to actually rest. So I did that, and woke up a half-hour later, feeling refreshed enough that the cup of coffee was optional and ultimately small.
The meeting was sparsely attended but went smoothly, after the guy on the other end of the phone called back for a better connection (yay).
I wrestled with syncing the pages off the pen. I'm taking this as a warning sign of some sort. By the time I got them off, it was just about time to leave for the picnic, but things were already wacky even before we left.
One of the guys had brought a football, and they were tossing it about in our beautiful just-us-chickens lobby area. Designer Bro had Researcher Carmageddon throw the football so he could throw himself down on the seats while diving and catching it.
Me, to various in IM: If they break any of my bottles of syrup, I'm going to pour the rest over their heads and send them to the showers.
The Randomizer walked up while all this was going on, and declared that we needed scooters to properly take advantage of our lovely long and clear hallway.
"Skateboard jousting!" I called from my corner.
"Yes!" he said.
Then we all started heading off to the picnic. I got one of the last good parking spaces. I had a bag of gear, including a towel, some bubbles, a squirt gun, and of course my hat.
"Not THE Hat?" Purple asked later.
I knew, of course, what he meant by "THE Hat". It wasn't that hat. I explained: for those who have not been introduced to the definitive hat, there are three other candidates. One is my venerable Purple Hat, by which I was known in high school. One is my Pride Hat, which looks like an Easter bonnet collided with a Pride parade. The third -- well.
The base is a screaming fuchsia straw hat. Then I Happened to it, armed with a trip to the dollar store and a hot glue gun. There are any number of very vivid, mostly tropical, flowers. There are ribbons. There are test-tube style neon plastic shot glasses. There are little umbrellas. There is a pair of sunglasses shaped like margarita glasses. There is, incredibly, a drink container shaped like a pineapple or palm tree (it's not quite clear which), to which I attached a pinwheel. The effect is aggressively festive.
Reactions were mixed between horror and delighted hilarity. To my delight, one of my uncle-managers declared that it was almost worthy of Carmen Miranda. I received compliments from complete strangers. The most common question: "Did you make that yourself?" Purple pointed out that if I hadn't made that myself, that would mean that such things were available for purchase somewhere out there. I didn't think at the time to point out places like Etsy.
I laid out my towel on the lawn, setting down my bag of gear. Designer Bro found the supersoaker. Designer Bro filled it up. He declared team amnesty -- and then caught sight of Researcher Carmageddon. "Except for Researcher Carmageddon," he amended, as Researcher Carmageddon spluttered damply. Researcher Sweatervest was next underfire water.
I sat on my towel and waved my bubble wand. One of the interns joined me for a bit. Madam Standards showed up and declared that again I'd managed to just appear rather than arrive, and made sure that I was properly sprayed down with sunscreen. #whofishmumsthefishmum #fishmummingtheunfishmummable
Lunch was late, but tasty.
There was a game involving not talking shop, with little ribbon and card necklaces which you had to surrender to the person who asked for them if you said one of the forbidden words. Designer Sparkles, who is hella competitive, declared that she wasn't playing. Most of the team promptly donated their necklaces to her. Word got around, and soon a very large number of people did likewise.
There were prizes for various things. The no-shop-talk game was one of them; Designer Sparkles was in the top 3. I believe she and someone else tied for first place, but I could be wrong; there was a difference of 4 necklaces between first and second place, and one was a tie.
I won the prize for best hat. There had not even been a contest for best hat until I had walked in and won it. The prize I picked was a picnic/beach blanket.
Mr. Zune was there, as he is an organizational second cousin and therefore in this department, and we talked about the logistics of having Shirley Temples at work. (I have pomegranate syrup, and we discussed how to keep the cherries -- I said that it would have to be in the condiment shelf of the milk fridge, and accept that it would be shared.) I had been the first to ask for a Shirley Temple at the bar -- it was within an hour of leaving time, and I wanted something fun but safe. The bartender had been waiting for someone to ask. :D
I'd lost track of how I'd gotten to know Mr. Zune, except of course work IRC, but he was able to fill in -- he'd known![[twitter.com profile]](https://p.dreamwidth.org/e0caa790ec10/-/twitter.com/favicon.ico)
xlerb first, and had thus been introduced to the rest of the #cupcake crew.
I threw myself into the transcription when I got back. I'm still working out the best solution as far as footwear goes for transcription days. The ballet-style folding flats are not breathable enough. The pink cozy slippers are a little loose. The actual ballet slippers are a little tight.
Purple started making noise about leaving a mere eight and a half hours after I'd seen him sign in to work IM. I encouraged him in this. As is our habit, he came by my cube (and looked at the hat and giggled, and looked with approval at the beach blanket) and we walked out to the parking lot.
Approximately 45 minutes of chatter later, touching on subjects such as my nail polish and mermaid porn, we headed our separate ways. (I was pleased with my nail polish: shimmery royal blue with purple-and-blue tiny glitter and tiny-blue and large aqua hex layered over it. He thought it looked mermaidy. I delightedly said that the top layer was called Mermaid's Tale. And from there we went off the deep end.)
A spider with 10^24 legs would be very, very disturbing. Coincidentally, "a spider with 10^24 legs" is the creature which exemplifies scope creep. I asked how long the legs would have to be in order to be discretely visible; he pointed out that this partially depended on the thickness of the leg; he'd been picturing an undulating sphere where I'd been picturing a very, very large generally circular layout.
I believe that the resulting creature might violate one of Purple's commandments, the "thou shalt not have Way Too Many Legs" one. Either that, or Way Too Hairy.
Tomorrow morning, I have to be in the office early, and bring bags: first, it's the alleged season of moving the team furniture. After that, it's conference logistics.
Apparently I never arrive anywhere, I just sort of ... appear. This according to Madam Standards, who was discussing my trick of doing this with the Party Commandant. (I really have to figure out a name for her that sticks.) I sort of appeared at the morning meeting yesterday (I'd come up via the elevator from the parking lot level, instead of walking down the path) and I was already in the auditorium because I'd arrived an hour before.
I was at work at not quite fuck o'clock to do dry runs in the theatre and get answers from the audio guys about questions we have.
Designer Sparkles got a look at herself on the auditorium camera and declared that she was done with skinny jeans. Then she mentioned finding a doppelganger on Facebook through someone tagging a picture of her with someone else's name -- "... and she looked exactly like me, only she was pretty." Tact and self-preservation kept me from opening my big mouth, because I think she's lovely and a certain engineer I could name has a bit of a crush on her.
After getting audio questions answered, relaying the answers to people over email, and sticking around for the first rehearsal with sound, I headed down the hill to the main campus. I was pleased to realize that I wasn't late for lunch. However, lunch was late enough that Purple's usual lunch group (which has expanded) occupied the better part of a whole double table (14 seats), and Purple hadn't even arrived yet by the time I got there. So I took a seat at a nearby table for two and got caught up on my email. Purple showed up and we had a pleasant meal.
Dessert trucks descended upon campus at about the time I was waiting to talk to the guy about moving some of the bulky and heavy team gear. We finally got an appointment time set, and I went in search of dessert. I had a strawberry shortcake crepe, and while the crepe and berries were delicious, the shortcake fell short.
Later, the moving guy and I got some wires crossed; I eventually stopped waiting for him, went back to my desk, got his cellphone number, went back upstairs, called him, and then talked about the moving-stuff situation. He could have done it Thursday, but I was to be away from my desk most of the day; we settled on Friday morning.
The Nervous Dev continued checking in items; I continued with my keen and slightly less caffeinated QA, and dealt with other inbox items between times. Then I prepared the briefing packet for 2nd Thursday.
Eventually I was just sore and feeling sort of weepy, so stomped over to Purple's office with an "obscenely large" (my manager's phrasing) blowpop. Whereupon we learned that a) quite naturally, my thresholds for jokes about you-and-me-banging with people who don't have fundamentally incompatible sexualities is different than when the incompatibility is somewhat less fundamental, b) my thresholds for jokes ditto when one of us is attracted to the other and the other isn't, also somewhat more sensitive, and c) out of all the various techniques which might be mentioned in a sex joke, when it comes to blowjobs, my thresholds are even more touchy than what's otherwise perfectly hilarious even given b). The whole joke-and-boundary thing took place in well under 30 seconds, and sticks out in my brain because c) wasn't something that I knew about myself prior to that interaction. (Interaction went something like:
Purple: [blowjob joke with implications]
Me: Dude, that one? Not unless you're serious.
Purple: Sorry, and noted. )
So then with two exceptions, I wasn't trying to be pornographic with the blowpop. Those two were very brief and for the sake of demonstration/great hilarity.
Then I went home and eventually got sleep.
Thursday:
It was a 2nd Thursday! I woke up before my alarm and got going, noting in passing that Tuesday's general wrath and Wednesday's woe were explained by the sudden #bloodcannon.
Even with the refueling and packing for the picnic, I was at work very early. I could have used more sleep, but trying for it would have thrown a disproportionate delay into the commute, and that would have been bad. But! I had the comfy chair! So I curled up and tried for a nap in my cube. I realized shortly that I would have to prop my feet on my desk chair in order to actually rest. So I did that, and woke up a half-hour later, feeling refreshed enough that the cup of coffee was optional and ultimately small.
The meeting was sparsely attended but went smoothly, after the guy on the other end of the phone called back for a better connection (yay).
I wrestled with syncing the pages off the pen. I'm taking this as a warning sign of some sort. By the time I got them off, it was just about time to leave for the picnic, but things were already wacky even before we left.
One of the guys had brought a football, and they were tossing it about in our beautiful just-us-chickens lobby area. Designer Bro had Researcher Carmageddon throw the football so he could throw himself down on the seats while diving and catching it.
Me, to various in IM: If they break any of my bottles of syrup, I'm going to pour the rest over their heads and send them to the showers.
The Randomizer walked up while all this was going on, and declared that we needed scooters to properly take advantage of our lovely long and clear hallway.
"Skateboard jousting!" I called from my corner.
"Yes!" he said.
Then we all started heading off to the picnic. I got one of the last good parking spaces. I had a bag of gear, including a towel, some bubbles, a squirt gun, and of course my hat.
"Not THE Hat?" Purple asked later.
I knew, of course, what he meant by "THE Hat". It wasn't that hat. I explained: for those who have not been introduced to the definitive hat, there are three other candidates. One is my venerable Purple Hat, by which I was known in high school. One is my Pride Hat, which looks like an Easter bonnet collided with a Pride parade. The third -- well.
The base is a screaming fuchsia straw hat. Then I Happened to it, armed with a trip to the dollar store and a hot glue gun. There are any number of very vivid, mostly tropical, flowers. There are ribbons. There are test-tube style neon plastic shot glasses. There are little umbrellas. There is a pair of sunglasses shaped like margarita glasses. There is, incredibly, a drink container shaped like a pineapple or palm tree (it's not quite clear which), to which I attached a pinwheel. The effect is aggressively festive.
Reactions were mixed between horror and delighted hilarity. To my delight, one of my uncle-managers declared that it was almost worthy of Carmen Miranda. I received compliments from complete strangers. The most common question: "Did you make that yourself?" Purple pointed out that if I hadn't made that myself, that would mean that such things were available for purchase somewhere out there. I didn't think at the time to point out places like Etsy.
I laid out my towel on the lawn, setting down my bag of gear. Designer Bro found the supersoaker. Designer Bro filled it up. He declared team amnesty -- and then caught sight of Researcher Carmageddon. "Except for Researcher Carmageddon," he amended, as Researcher Carmageddon spluttered damply. Researcher Sweatervest was next under
I sat on my towel and waved my bubble wand. One of the interns joined me for a bit. Madam Standards showed up and declared that again I'd managed to just appear rather than arrive, and made sure that I was properly sprayed down with sunscreen. #whofishmumsthefishmum #fishmummingtheunfishmummable
Lunch was late, but tasty.
There was a game involving not talking shop, with little ribbon and card necklaces which you had to surrender to the person who asked for them if you said one of the forbidden words. Designer Sparkles, who is hella competitive, declared that she wasn't playing. Most of the team promptly donated their necklaces to her. Word got around, and soon a very large number of people did likewise.
There were prizes for various things. The no-shop-talk game was one of them; Designer Sparkles was in the top 3. I believe she and someone else tied for first place, but I could be wrong; there was a difference of 4 necklaces between first and second place, and one was a tie.
I won the prize for best hat. There had not even been a contest for best hat until I had walked in and won it. The prize I picked was a picnic/beach blanket.
Mr. Zune was there, as he is an organizational second cousin and therefore in this department, and we talked about the logistics of having Shirley Temples at work. (I have pomegranate syrup, and we discussed how to keep the cherries -- I said that it would have to be in the condiment shelf of the milk fridge, and accept that it would be shared.) I had been the first to ask for a Shirley Temple at the bar -- it was within an hour of leaving time, and I wanted something fun but safe. The bartender had been waiting for someone to ask. :D
I'd lost track of how I'd gotten to know Mr. Zune, except of course work IRC, but he was able to fill in -- he'd known
I threw myself into the transcription when I got back. I'm still working out the best solution as far as footwear goes for transcription days. The ballet-style folding flats are not breathable enough. The pink cozy slippers are a little loose. The actual ballet slippers are a little tight.
Purple started making noise about leaving a mere eight and a half hours after I'd seen him sign in to work IM. I encouraged him in this. As is our habit, he came by my cube (and looked at the hat and giggled, and looked with approval at the beach blanket) and we walked out to the parking lot.
Approximately 45 minutes of chatter later, touching on subjects such as my nail polish and mermaid porn, we headed our separate ways. (I was pleased with my nail polish: shimmery royal blue with purple-and-blue tiny glitter and tiny-blue and large aqua hex layered over it. He thought it looked mermaidy. I delightedly said that the top layer was called Mermaid's Tale. And from there we went off the deep end.)
A spider with 10^24 legs would be very, very disturbing. Coincidentally, "a spider with 10^24 legs" is the creature which exemplifies scope creep. I asked how long the legs would have to be in order to be discretely visible; he pointed out that this partially depended on the thickness of the leg; he'd been picturing an undulating sphere where I'd been picturing a very, very large generally circular layout.
I believe that the resulting creature might violate one of Purple's commandments, the "thou shalt not have Way Too Many Legs" one. Either that, or Way Too Hairy.
Tomorrow morning, I have to be in the office early, and bring bags: first, it's the alleged season of moving the team furniture. After that, it's conference logistics.
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