azurelunatic | Linguistic prescriptivism as applied to manscaping

11:27 Tuesday, 23 September, 2014
Woke up this morning well before my alarm, which was in accordance with the plan. Promptly went downstairs with the laundry, since the bra situation had already passed super-critical, and I was feeling too lazy to find another cardigan in the closet (the one in current rotation was in critical need of a wash after having both been washed by Sharkface and had a close encounter with butter chicken -- butter chicken can be rinsed off, but Purple is allergic to dogs).

While waiting for the laundry, I have attended to dishes and done some cleaning of my inbox.

Last night I was glancing at the subject lines of my work emails just to make sure that there was nothing that urgently needed my attention before I went to bed, and I saw something from not!Facebook which involved the incomprehensible twit. I immediately started to panic about having said the Wrong Thing In Public, and how I was Hopeless and Horrible and someone should really tell me this every time I opened my mouth and something terrible came out In Public.

... And then I realized that there is such a person. When I start making a fool out of myself at work in a bad way, not a class-clown way, Purple will say the equivalent of "Azure Jane Lunatic, you are making less sense than a kilogram of bee dick!" And then I felt better. Also my Overlady would say something tactful if I went way too far, but generally she does feel like there are some mistakes I should make for myself.

(There is no reason whatsoever for anyone outside of specialized types of biology and friends to have a kilogram of refined bee dick. That said, my friends will probably proceed to give me reasons.)

00:33 Wednesday, 24 September, 2014
Post-dentist Purple and "Sleep schedule? What sleep schedule?" Azz made a coherent duo at lunch.

There were two things on not!Facebook from the incoherent twit. One was actually pretty nice, as she was thanking me for my helpfulness and going on at a bit more precision about how things were. The other was ... less explicable. A few people and I have subscribed to every new update on the Page about helldesk. And there was a new update from her, detailing some of Friday's release and the docs on same. Said post quietly went away. A few of the usual suspects and I -- well. Gramp forwarded it to the cousin-team including the great-grandmanager and his right hand assistant. I quietly documented on the wiki. The Angry Man linked it from not!Facebook. :D

I have identified the person connected to the helldesk who I least enjoy dealing with. It's not the buck-passer-in-chief or the incoherent twit, it's High-Priv McMansplain (distinct from Racist McMansplain). This is the guy who has previously come to the negative attention of me and everyone within yelling distance for assuming that everyone else has the same privileges within the system that he does. (To the best of my knowledge, his privs are actually fairly low helpdesk.)

R&D End-User: How do I file a new ticket?
High-Priv McMansplain: [menu item which doesn't appear for end-users] > [child of that menu] :)
AzureJaneL: @R&D End-User: So I'm assuming you're in the [terrible portal] which looks like [baby poo]? [utterly baroque drilldown process] and whatever you do, if you click the blue button at the bottom right, you've just introduced several hours of delay into the process whilst they triage your shit manually. @High-Priv McMansplain: AND AS FOR YOU, GUY, please remember that the vast majority of the poor saps who find themselves asking questions in this forum are R&D, and are subjected to a super-weak read-only view, and the shit to which you refer does not exist in our circumscribed little world. Unless you can impersonate an account with our priv level [I suspect he does not have that access] then we may have no reference for whatever the fuck you're talking about. Peace.

Except I managed it without swearing within the hearing of either of those two, though I did disturb a passing manager and offices at least as far back as my Overlady's, who heard the "...HAT!!" part of "I'M WEARING THE TACT HAT!"

In the course of my chocolate-based diplomacy tour, neither Mr. Zune nor my great-grandmanager's right hand were at their desks, but I did discover that our local desktop helpdesk is now composed of Sir Only Occasionally Appearing In This Film, and Chip!!! Chip from our old building!!!!!!! Chip who occasionally I run into and say, "I've missed you!" with great and heartfelt intensity. Competent and effective helpdesk are a boon to us as end-users. I expect the company to award them with decent pay, good benefits, and reasonable job satisfaction. I will do my part by trying to not be a terrible user, and opening my candy dish to them.

Fishlet is settling in at school. It is good to have other fish come by chat for a bit, also! It is a mark of the sort of community we have that nearly every conversation has the ability to devolve into homework.

Procurement has switched to a whole new system. I have thrown myself upon their mercy in asking what the fuck sort of category to shove such and such a requested purchase in, because of the terrible adventures I had in trying to find out on my own.

Purple and I were not late in getting out: it was still somewhat light outside! Which quickly went the other way. A mutual acquaintance came through the parking lot and showed us cat pictures. (She was the one with the rampant mint.) There are two strays who have claimed her. She's joking about naming the flame point ragdoll "iPhone 6", because it's very difficult to tell a "best of cat pictures" ooh-and-aah session from a "shiny new phone" one. We had a jolly good chat. (I agree: cat poop font would look great on a wedding announcement.)

My left knee is angry with me, for some reason. I got out to the parking lot with Purple, and it threatened to go out. I recovered by means of a very quick adjustment with my right foot, which involved a stomp. Purple eyed me and asked whether that meant something in chicken language. "It means, my knee hates me." Heh.

Beardwatch 2014: so it turns out that you can't actually usefully say "there's been some manscaping done on the beard" because apparently by definition manscaping is below the waist. This conversation involved Purple, Steph, me, and me going very pink. "Wait, who's pretending to not be gay?"

And now I am home!