Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2015-02-25 12:49 am
azurelunatic) wrote2015-02-25 12:49 am
Supergluing sand to your pants is not the best way to keep from sliding down in the fire pit chair.
Today I learned that in some localities, "mutton" means "this is a goat but we're calling it mutton anyway". I was the next person to join the table, making it two against two. One of the other two turned to Google.
Lunch finished up pretty quickly. I drifted by the table of Madam Standards, Non-Boring Manager, and Knives (the sarcastic visual designer). The Non-Boring Manager teased me a bit about whether I recognized him yet. I recognize his hat, but I get confused when I don't see the moustache. I then had to tell the story about that time when I didn't recognize "some woman" on the airplane headed to the family reunion. (My two years younger sister, who I'd last seen two years earlier, in different glasses.) My faceblindness cred is established.
Mr. Zune had a thing to show me. It was a classroom pointer with an orange foam hand with a pointer finger at the end. It is the best new thing in his life. He is pointing at all sorts of things with it. We were giggling helplessly. I told him a true thing to make him giggle harder.
There is a person in my life whose workplace has been having a plague with things like:
Speaker-to-Customers (to customer): Oh yes! Our dev has already implemented the thing!
Speaker-to-Customers (to dev): Sooooo I told the customer you'd already done this. You can get it done, right?
Dev: You owe me.
Speaker-to-Customers (to customer): Yeaaaahhhhh our dev fucked that up.
Speaker-to-Customers (to dev): So I fucked that up and I told the customer you fucked that up.
Dev: You're lucky that defenestration technically counts as murder, which is illegal in this state, because the window is right there.
Fortunately, when a person who appreciates such things gets the opportunity to enjoy a good solid flogging, this puts that person in a generally better frame of mind. And so, with this lead-up, when I whispered "The beatings should continue so morale remains improved," in Mr. Zune's ear, we collectively lost it giggling.
The Stage Manager had told us that he would be out of his office due to a thing involving customers, hosted by some of the same people who used to be in charge of the customer group that came to the erstwhile early Thursday monthly meetings. As he was telling Carmageddon, apparently it was a clusterfuck in terms of internal organization. He went into precise detail, and yeah, that's one of the ways a clusterfuck looks.
As a consolation, I sent him http://www.lauralemay.com/fiction/the-deadline.html which I thought would appeal. It did.
I nearly cried on the phone to helpdesk today, as I discovered a new and fascinating way in which a lack of horizontal scroll bar is fucking things up. The ticket is being escalated. I told the helpdesk lady (in deep frustration) that the helpdesk software was garbage, and then clarified that no, the helpdesk people are just fine (I may have been exaggerating) but the software is garbage and should be discarded. They are likewise frustrated. I thanked her for putting up with me.
I stomped off for milkshake. I was then joined (entirely through having seen me in passing) by lb, and (due to lb making faces at him through the window once he walked back in to his office) by Purple, and then (because he was biking in to work very late) by radius. The Angry Tattooed Man walked past also. lb's Overlady has had contact with the new people in charge of the helldesk software, and lb had thoughts and she agreed with them. radius had to be in the office today because tomorrow he's going up into the city to pay a visit tozorkian's office, though it's a large enough office that they may not come within pool-noodle-waving distance of each other. Also, "Neverland Ranch" is an unfortunate theme for a photo booth. One of the chairs was coming loose from its moorings, and was rusty. I filed a ticket. lb was having trouble staying upright while lounging in one of the chairs. I suggested he could superglue sand to his pants, the chair, or both. Then all he'd need would be WD-40. radius has made his mark on campus quite literally, due to the lack of warning signage the last time the lower parking lot was resurfaced. He'd thought something looked different in the gathering dusk, and realized a short ways before the zone: no lines! Fresh tar! So he braked, and only encroached his front wheel a few feet on the zone. It'll be there until the next time they resurface, just a little discontinuity.
Tiny Plaid Dude, who shares a first name with Haystack and has, like, size eleven enthusiasm in size five shoes, has proposed that there be a poster session during the conference during Madam Standards' party. I have expressed the following opinions:
To Tiny Plaid Dude, the suggestion that he discuss this with the party committee.
To Madam Standards, a heads-up that this proposition has been made, and a counter-suggestion that it would go super-much better during happy hour the following evening. Madam Standards is on board with that.
I tactfully asked Madam Standards whether there was any particular reason she had picked the Neverland photo booth out of the available photo booth options. It had been pretty much an ass-pull, so I have some counter-proposals. I am preparing a spreadsheet.
Things I am also preparing: site maps with dimensions, outlet locations, and other salient points so Madam Standards and the party committee can plot to their hearts' content. Later, we may have some tiny paper pieces to shove around to lay out furniture and stuff.
Purple called time before I did, this time, and we strolled out. We chatted about the general concept of comedians having to blunt their acts for a corporate audience, and how that might work in a specific case. Among, I'm sure, other things, but we were both ready to head home after not that much time.
I realized that I'd left my headset on my desk, but I do have a spare at home. I plugged the iPod into the tape deck adapter, after the headset in the car was flaky. I was early enough (just barely, and by taking 280 all the way rather than 35 along the ridge) to refuel. It's always easier at night, so I am planning to do that when possible. Saves time. Saves stress on me.
The washer now has zero things on top of it, so when the guy(s) come to check it out, it should be no problem for them. Also I laid out tomorrow's outfit and got laundry sorted and hung up. And made my step count via bouncy-ball. And am getting significant inroads on tomorrow's (I just hit 1/4). Last night I did quite a few dishes and trimmed my bangs. I'm not sure where the sudden burst of productivity is coming from, but I shan't argue with it.
Lunch finished up pretty quickly. I drifted by the table of Madam Standards, Non-Boring Manager, and Knives (the sarcastic visual designer). The Non-Boring Manager teased me a bit about whether I recognized him yet. I recognize his hat, but I get confused when I don't see the moustache. I then had to tell the story about that time when I didn't recognize "some woman" on the airplane headed to the family reunion. (My two years younger sister, who I'd last seen two years earlier, in different glasses.) My faceblindness cred is established.
Mr. Zune had a thing to show me. It was a classroom pointer with an orange foam hand with a pointer finger at the end. It is the best new thing in his life. He is pointing at all sorts of things with it. We were giggling helplessly. I told him a true thing to make him giggle harder.
There is a person in my life whose workplace has been having a plague with things like:
Speaker-to-Customers (to customer): Oh yes! Our dev has already implemented the thing!
Speaker-to-Customers (to dev): Sooooo I told the customer you'd already done this. You can get it done, right?
Dev: You owe me.
Speaker-to-Customers (to customer): Yeaaaahhhhh our dev fucked that up.
Speaker-to-Customers (to dev): So I fucked that up and I told the customer you fucked that up.
Dev: You're lucky that defenestration technically counts as murder, which is illegal in this state, because the window is right there.
Fortunately, when a person who appreciates such things gets the opportunity to enjoy a good solid flogging, this puts that person in a generally better frame of mind. And so, with this lead-up, when I whispered "The beatings should continue so morale remains improved," in Mr. Zune's ear, we collectively lost it giggling.
The Stage Manager had told us that he would be out of his office due to a thing involving customers, hosted by some of the same people who used to be in charge of the customer group that came to the erstwhile early Thursday monthly meetings. As he was telling Carmageddon, apparently it was a clusterfuck in terms of internal organization. He went into precise detail, and yeah, that's one of the ways a clusterfuck looks.
As a consolation, I sent him http://www.lauralemay.com/fiction/the-deadline.html which I thought would appeal. It did.
I nearly cried on the phone to helpdesk today, as I discovered a new and fascinating way in which a lack of horizontal scroll bar is fucking things up. The ticket is being escalated. I told the helpdesk lady (in deep frustration) that the helpdesk software was garbage, and then clarified that no, the helpdesk people are just fine (I may have been exaggerating) but the software is garbage and should be discarded. They are likewise frustrated. I thanked her for putting up with me.
I stomped off for milkshake. I was then joined (entirely through having seen me in passing) by lb, and (due to lb making faces at him through the window once he walked back in to his office) by Purple, and then (because he was biking in to work very late) by radius. The Angry Tattooed Man walked past also. lb's Overlady has had contact with the new people in charge of the helldesk software, and lb had thoughts and she agreed with them. radius had to be in the office today because tomorrow he's going up into the city to pay a visit to
zorkian's office, though it's a large enough office that they may not come within pool-noodle-waving distance of each other. Also, "Neverland Ranch" is an unfortunate theme for a photo booth. One of the chairs was coming loose from its moorings, and was rusty. I filed a ticket. lb was having trouble staying upright while lounging in one of the chairs. I suggested he could superglue sand to his pants, the chair, or both. Then all he'd need would be WD-40. radius has made his mark on campus quite literally, due to the lack of warning signage the last time the lower parking lot was resurfaced. He'd thought something looked different in the gathering dusk, and realized a short ways before the zone: no lines! Fresh tar! So he braked, and only encroached his front wheel a few feet on the zone. It'll be there until the next time they resurface, just a little discontinuity. Tiny Plaid Dude, who shares a first name with Haystack and has, like, size eleven enthusiasm in size five shoes, has proposed that there be a poster session during the conference during Madam Standards' party. I have expressed the following opinions:
To Tiny Plaid Dude, the suggestion that he discuss this with the party committee.
To Madam Standards, a heads-up that this proposition has been made, and a counter-suggestion that it would go super-much better during happy hour the following evening. Madam Standards is on board with that.
I tactfully asked Madam Standards whether there was any particular reason she had picked the Neverland photo booth out of the available photo booth options. It had been pretty much an ass-pull, so I have some counter-proposals. I am preparing a spreadsheet.
Things I am also preparing: site maps with dimensions, outlet locations, and other salient points so Madam Standards and the party committee can plot to their hearts' content. Later, we may have some tiny paper pieces to shove around to lay out furniture and stuff.
Purple called time before I did, this time, and we strolled out. We chatted about the general concept of comedians having to blunt their acts for a corporate audience, and how that might work in a specific case. Among, I'm sure, other things, but we were both ready to head home after not that much time.
I realized that I'd left my headset on my desk, but I do have a spare at home. I plugged the iPod into the tape deck adapter, after the headset in the car was flaky. I was early enough (just barely, and by taking 280 all the way rather than 35 along the ridge) to refuel. It's always easier at night, so I am planning to do that when possible. Saves time. Saves stress on me.
The washer now has zero things on top of it, so when the guy(s) come to check it out, it should be no problem for them. Also I laid out tomorrow's outfit and got laundry sorted and hung up. And made my step count via bouncy-ball. And am getting significant inroads on tomorrow's (I just hit 1/4). Last night I did quite a few dishes and trimmed my bangs. I'm not sure where the sudden burst of productivity is coming from, but I shan't argue with it.
no subject
also the story was lovely.
no subject
There's a certain bloody-mindedness inherent in ensuring that your people know that if they fuck this up, I will hear about it, and then if I hear about it, they will hear about it. This encourages them (I hope) to check with me before they do things.