Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2015-02-05 01:21 am
azurelunatic) wrote2015-02-05 01:21 am
Dried durian keeps on giving.
I was parking just as Purple was walking through the parking lot. He stopped and waited for me to extract myself from the car, then walked me in. It was a pleasant start to the morning.
The CSS wars continue. "Please advise." has been added to the Gallery of Hostile Signatures.
I arrived at work just as a meeting that I was supposed to be in was wrapping up. I didn't get to sleep until late, but I set my alarm for 10 minutes before the meeting so I could call in. But there was no number. So I emailed Madam Standards (whose meeting it was) and then the whole group, to ask for a number or if they could just call my cell from the conference room phone. But nobody remembered to. They did, however, realize they needed me, and assigned me a task in absentia which I had already started before the meeting even met. Logistics, meet me. Heh.
Lunch was with Purple's table. Lennon Glasses Guy now has vaguely better context for some of the random things Purple and I say to each other, because #cupcake.
When there is bell pepper and cilantro all up in the rice for burritos, I have started asking for the guy to use the rice from the Indian food station next door. Today I called it "uncontaminated rice", which was not the most tactful phrasing I've ever used. I'm not allergic because I don't swell up and die, but I taste that thing in the cilantro (stink bugs, not soap), and my stomach is unhappy with bell peppers in more than fragmentary form, and I associate the taste with badness.
The package has arrived with the customer. I had the emails sent to radius, not me, so he was the one to be all giddy about that.
Around 5, I realized that the Beacon (the lava lamp on the collaboration table) was not lit. I reckoned that there might only be two hours left, but I turned it on anyway.
I have had a situation going on with my right hand for the past couple days: I slept on my right shoulder wrong, which produced some upfuckery which has gone down to the flexor tendon in my right index finger (it's not like I use that all the time or anything). So I am being very ginger with my hand. Mostly I can't grasp with that finger when my arm is turned inward and bent at the elbow. Or at least I should not. So I am trying not to, because it was hurting. Whatever had gone wrong in my shoulder went *spang* sometime today and it feels normal there again, but my hand has still been somewhat tender and swollen. It's gone down over the course of the day, but I'm going to be gentle on it for another couple days.
More paperwork related to the swapover of certain management things, and oh god it's just a *pain*. Yesterday one of the people called me, and I got to speak gently but firmly about the importance of including gender identity and gender expression specifically by name in their anti-harassment document. While I largely adore my team and don't think we'd run into any such problem, it needs to be there to protect the people who really need the protection and don't have that level of knowledge and trust. I would hope they'd do the right thing anyway, but when you need that protection you don't always know, and [insert horror story from domain shop here]. And the lady on the other end of the phone started, I think, to see why it was important, and it is a document that they keep updating with the lawyers, after all.
Dear cisgender folks: one concrete thing you can do is keep an eye out for lists of people who ought to be protected, and make sure that trans* folks and other gender minorities are included where they can be. It's part of the onboarding process for me now. Check, then comment if it's not there.
My co-workers keep trolling each other with the dried durian. Sparkles got Rocky to huff air from the bag. Rocky staggered off groaning. Sparkles headed out of the building giggling. It's the gift that keeps on giving.
The fellow working from Home Office: Japan in #VirtualH has been doing botsmithery again. This time, the number of hours until beer bash. I've been running a day ahead, so I thought it was only 21 hours when the bot said 33. The Botsmith pointed out my error, and started muttering about timezones. I adjusted my math. 45. Okay. The bot was still 12 hours off. "Is it ignoring the PM bit?" I asked, because 12 is a magic number, and the math made sense if the bot thought it was 4am, not 4pm. That turned out to be the basic shape of the answer, though the details varied slightly. That's one of the things to check with datemath, if it's 12 hours off for some reason.
Fishie has taken a Goodreads book quote widget intended for a blog or webpage and is using it as a desktop widget. Then, since she wanted it to refresh on its own, she hunted down some javascript that would do that, and a refresh button, and jammed it all together. I'm so proud of her.
I checked in with Purple about where he was in the thing around 8. "Pretty close, about 10," he said. "Minutes," he added hastily. That was good, because if it had been 10pm he'd meant, I would have packed up my stuff and wandered over to give him a hug goodnight, roll my eyes at him, and head out to the parking lot alone.
It turns out that Purple and I can start from "Gosh, living in Alaska is gorgeous" to "No, even if it were lego-sized bricks, if it's square enough to work as a brick, it would hurt to poop it." Via the metal detectors in San Francisco City Hall. Conversations with us are weird, man.
I did laundry Monday. Today, since I was feeling slow and sore, I was low on steps. So tonight I sat myself down on the yoga ball and set out an outfit for tomorrow night while watching some Mythbusters. The new format is all right, I suppose, and the game episode was cute. I got my steps made. I checked my averages, and sure enough, it was up enough to progress my goals.
The CSS wars continue. "Please advise." has been added to the Gallery of Hostile Signatures.
I arrived at work just as a meeting that I was supposed to be in was wrapping up. I didn't get to sleep until late, but I set my alarm for 10 minutes before the meeting so I could call in. But there was no number. So I emailed Madam Standards (whose meeting it was) and then the whole group, to ask for a number or if they could just call my cell from the conference room phone. But nobody remembered to. They did, however, realize they needed me, and assigned me a task in absentia which I had already started before the meeting even met. Logistics, meet me. Heh.
Lunch was with Purple's table. Lennon Glasses Guy now has vaguely better context for some of the random things Purple and I say to each other, because #cupcake.
When there is bell pepper and cilantro all up in the rice for burritos, I have started asking for the guy to use the rice from the Indian food station next door. Today I called it "uncontaminated rice", which was not the most tactful phrasing I've ever used. I'm not allergic because I don't swell up and die, but I taste that thing in the cilantro (stink bugs, not soap), and my stomach is unhappy with bell peppers in more than fragmentary form, and I associate the taste with badness.
The package has arrived with the customer. I had the emails sent to radius, not me, so he was the one to be all giddy about that.
Around 5, I realized that the Beacon (the lava lamp on the collaboration table) was not lit. I reckoned that there might only be two hours left, but I turned it on anyway.
I have had a situation going on with my right hand for the past couple days: I slept on my right shoulder wrong, which produced some upfuckery which has gone down to the flexor tendon in my right index finger (it's not like I use that all the time or anything). So I am being very ginger with my hand. Mostly I can't grasp with that finger when my arm is turned inward and bent at the elbow. Or at least I should not. So I am trying not to, because it was hurting. Whatever had gone wrong in my shoulder went *spang* sometime today and it feels normal there again, but my hand has still been somewhat tender and swollen. It's gone down over the course of the day, but I'm going to be gentle on it for another couple days.
More paperwork related to the swapover of certain management things, and oh god it's just a *pain*. Yesterday one of the people called me, and I got to speak gently but firmly about the importance of including gender identity and gender expression specifically by name in their anti-harassment document. While I largely adore my team and don't think we'd run into any such problem, it needs to be there to protect the people who really need the protection and don't have that level of knowledge and trust. I would hope they'd do the right thing anyway, but when you need that protection you don't always know, and [insert horror story from domain shop here]. And the lady on the other end of the phone started, I think, to see why it was important, and it is a document that they keep updating with the lawyers, after all.
Dear cisgender folks: one concrete thing you can do is keep an eye out for lists of people who ought to be protected, and make sure that trans* folks and other gender minorities are included where they can be. It's part of the onboarding process for me now. Check, then comment if it's not there.
My co-workers keep trolling each other with the dried durian. Sparkles got Rocky to huff air from the bag. Rocky staggered off groaning. Sparkles headed out of the building giggling. It's the gift that keeps on giving.
The fellow working from Home Office: Japan in #VirtualH has been doing botsmithery again. This time, the number of hours until beer bash. I've been running a day ahead, so I thought it was only 21 hours when the bot said 33. The Botsmith pointed out my error, and started muttering about timezones. I adjusted my math. 45. Okay. The bot was still 12 hours off. "Is it ignoring the PM bit?" I asked, because 12 is a magic number, and the math made sense if the bot thought it was 4am, not 4pm. That turned out to be the basic shape of the answer, though the details varied slightly. That's one of the things to check with datemath, if it's 12 hours off for some reason.
Fishie has taken a Goodreads book quote widget intended for a blog or webpage and is using it as a desktop widget. Then, since she wanted it to refresh on its own, she hunted down some javascript that would do that, and a refresh button, and jammed it all together. I'm so proud of her.
I checked in with Purple about where he was in the thing around 8. "Pretty close, about 10," he said. "Minutes," he added hastily. That was good, because if it had been 10pm he'd meant, I would have packed up my stuff and wandered over to give him a hug goodnight, roll my eyes at him, and head out to the parking lot alone.
It turns out that Purple and I can start from "Gosh, living in Alaska is gorgeous" to "No, even if it were lego-sized bricks, if it's square enough to work as a brick, it would hurt to poop it." Via the metal detectors in San Francisco City Hall. Conversations with us are weird, man.
I did laundry Monday. Today, since I was feeling slow and sore, I was low on steps. So tonight I sat myself down on the yoga ball and set out an outfit for tomorrow night while watching some Mythbusters. The new format is all right, I suppose, and the game episode was cute. I got my steps made. I checked my averages, and sure enough, it was up enough to progress my goals.