Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2015-11-12 12:14 am
azurelunatic) wrote2015-11-12 12:14 am
a random assortment of recent goings-on
Tuesday lunch: hmm, it's noon-thirty, and Purple's gone idle. I wonder -- nah, he sends the lunch ping, I bet he got caught up in a meeting. *proceeds with inbox*
THE PHONE RINGS.
"So uh, I forgot to send the lunch ping... we've only been sitting down for 5, 10 minutes..."
Sudden rush of warmth. I ping Mr. Tux and waltz off to join my friends. I am wanted, and ultimately not forgotten.
Purple's been working late hours. I am sympathetic, but can't do much other than share my pomegranate. He's typically not a pomegranate kind of guy, but I've been finding unexpectedly non-bitter ones to share. Today's was bitter-er (I warned him, he tasted and was all "yup", so I didn't offer more).
On my way in to work, the sun hit the nails I'd polished last night. "That's bathing suit color!" I thought, inexplicably.
Hilarious misunderstanding with the Dean over a venue. My group is in fact doing two large-group things in quick succession, so the two tickets were fully legit.
I had a weird succession of dreams last night. The first, and fully printable, one was about a hackerspace situation where the hackerspace had a fire installation that (somehow) was safe for people on foot to go through (they could dodge, apparently) but even though the measurements on the floor were ostensibly enough for wheelchairs to go through, the jets of fire coming out of the floor-mounted torches at angles would go through the place the wheelchairs would have to travel. (In non-dream-world, the foot people would have had problems as well.) So I was trying to convince someone of that. It was also on the 5th floor of a building which had a very violent and cruel gang on the 6th floor, and part of navigating the building was not catching the attention of the gang. Naturally, someone caught the attention of the gang. Body horror and suchlike followed, and I was trying to get someone to call the police (and medics) without also coming to their attention.
The real-world key for this was having applied to get "key" level access to my local, which involves a pledge to call the authorities if such is warranted, and also a brief review of some things which had gone down in another space (warranting authorities being called).
The second, and not entirely printable, featured me and a dude (a specific one, who I'll decline to name here) getting busy. Things were going very well when it became apparent that we were not fully equipped for what we wanted to do, and I said that we'd have to stop. He of course stopped instantly and agreed that we were totally not equipped and it would be a terrible idea to continue, and initiated rescheduling. To which I enthusiastically participated.
The real-world key for *that* is comparing high-pressure sales tactics against some sex tactics, like the one-day-only offer. Dear my good friends sex-haver and would-be sex-haver; dear my good friend past self: if it would be a bad idea to have sex in the morning it is still a bad idea right here and right now. A good partner is generally amenable to rescheduling.
Tonight featured another Awkward Hitting On, but not one that made me feel unsafe. The night janitor awkwardly asked if I had a boyfriend, then asked if I wanted a boyfriend, or someone to fill the general role and duties of a boyfriend (with attention to coffee instead of wine, as I'd mentioned not liking to drink much especially not Out), and it got somewhat more specific but G-rated and not crass, from there. I am not into him that way but I appreciate the consideration. Unlike the security guard, who gave me panic attacks.
Purple had to kick off a long-running test deploy before leaving the office, so we stuck around "for just five minutes" in his office to make sure it wouldn't fail. (It failed.)
Tuesday the facilities guy had come around to say that they hadn't been able to find anything wrong, but they'd check various things. We both smelled the same stuff on the way out. We're wondering if wind is a factor.
I saw a meteor, and pointed it out to Purple; he got a bare glimpse but it was gone before he could track it.
He's not sure where his father falls on the introvert/extrovert scale. It didn't seem to make a difference whether his father was cornering one person to hold forth, or many. "Oh, he's a *presenter*," I said, understandingly.
I wound up telling Purple about the childhood trauma that had given me a fear of public speaking. He was sweet about it. That meandered into things closer to the present day, and how I'd got over the legitimate fear in the junior year of high school (the secret was knowing my material cold), but I still got stage fright any time I felt uncertain. Including going into a call center. Purple's secret there is, you don't actually have to be good in order to succeed there, you just have to know more than the guy calling in. Which is a refreshing way to look at it.
We talked about how this guy hitting on me didn't set off my alarms, and how I find myself subconsciously assessing how much damage some guy could do me if everything went terribly wrong. He's still surprised by that, and remarked that either it's pretty uncommon, or women just don't talk about it [to him]. I expressed that I thought that I as a person operated a lot less fearfully than the average woman, and it doesn't come up with dudes because it's like air. I feel pretty safe in the work parking lot even when it's pretty dark because it's a tech campus and basically the only people around are fellow techies, and on the whole I don't feel like I attract negative attention. (Wisecracks about the security guard who speeds around in a golf cart with the lights turned out went here.) One of the times when attention can swing super negative super fast is when a dude gets turned down romantically. Insert http://okcreepsters.tumblr.com/ here.
The topic of altered states came up; the night I had 5 shots of whiskey in quick succession came to mind. It was one of those moments of super addled clarity. I had been super depressed in and around there, and the mood had lifted while I was drunk as hell. Fortunately, my takeaway had been "I should remember how this brain state feels, so I can try to replicate it while sober", and not "I should stay drunk" nor "This is too terrible to keep putting up with". I expressed a variation on bootstrapping: give yourself a wedgie to lift you out of the depression. That resulted in the person with delicate external anatomy giving a lecture on the effects of the wedgie. We alternated between being appalled and giggling like preteens.
My nails caught the light, and Purple took a look. He wasn't quite sure what was bathing suit-y about them, except they were Wonder Woman blue. "Oh!" I said. That was, in fact, it.
There's a guy with a hoverboard style scooter at work. He zooms around on it. I saw him in the cafeteria today.
THE PHONE RINGS.
"So uh, I forgot to send the lunch ping... we've only been sitting down for 5, 10 minutes..."
Sudden rush of warmth. I ping Mr. Tux and waltz off to join my friends. I am wanted, and ultimately not forgotten.
Purple's been working late hours. I am sympathetic, but can't do much other than share my pomegranate. He's typically not a pomegranate kind of guy, but I've been finding unexpectedly non-bitter ones to share. Today's was bitter-er (I warned him, he tasted and was all "yup", so I didn't offer more).
On my way in to work, the sun hit the nails I'd polished last night. "That's bathing suit color!" I thought, inexplicably.
Hilarious misunderstanding with the Dean over a venue. My group is in fact doing two large-group things in quick succession, so the two tickets were fully legit.
I had a weird succession of dreams last night. The first, and fully printable, one was about a hackerspace situation where the hackerspace had a fire installation that (somehow) was safe for people on foot to go through (they could dodge, apparently) but even though the measurements on the floor were ostensibly enough for wheelchairs to go through, the jets of fire coming out of the floor-mounted torches at angles would go through the place the wheelchairs would have to travel. (In non-dream-world, the foot people would have had problems as well.) So I was trying to convince someone of that. It was also on the 5th floor of a building which had a very violent and cruel gang on the 6th floor, and part of navigating the building was not catching the attention of the gang. Naturally, someone caught the attention of the gang. Body horror and suchlike followed, and I was trying to get someone to call the police (and medics) without also coming to their attention.
The real-world key for this was having applied to get "key" level access to my local, which involves a pledge to call the authorities if such is warranted, and also a brief review of some things which had gone down in another space (warranting authorities being called).
The second, and not entirely printable, featured me and a dude (a specific one, who I'll decline to name here) getting busy. Things were going very well when it became apparent that we were not fully equipped for what we wanted to do, and I said that we'd have to stop. He of course stopped instantly and agreed that we were totally not equipped and it would be a terrible idea to continue, and initiated rescheduling. To which I enthusiastically participated.
The real-world key for *that* is comparing high-pressure sales tactics against some sex tactics, like the one-day-only offer. Dear my good friends sex-haver and would-be sex-haver; dear my good friend past self: if it would be a bad idea to have sex in the morning it is still a bad idea right here and right now. A good partner is generally amenable to rescheduling.
Tonight featured another Awkward Hitting On, but not one that made me feel unsafe. The night janitor awkwardly asked if I had a boyfriend, then asked if I wanted a boyfriend, or someone to fill the general role and duties of a boyfriend (with attention to coffee instead of wine, as I'd mentioned not liking to drink much especially not Out), and it got somewhat more specific but G-rated and not crass, from there. I am not into him that way but I appreciate the consideration. Unlike the security guard, who gave me panic attacks.
Purple had to kick off a long-running test deploy before leaving the office, so we stuck around "for just five minutes" in his office to make sure it wouldn't fail. (It failed.)
Tuesday the facilities guy had come around to say that they hadn't been able to find anything wrong, but they'd check various things. We both smelled the same stuff on the way out. We're wondering if wind is a factor.
I saw a meteor, and pointed it out to Purple; he got a bare glimpse but it was gone before he could track it.
He's not sure where his father falls on the introvert/extrovert scale. It didn't seem to make a difference whether his father was cornering one person to hold forth, or many. "Oh, he's a *presenter*," I said, understandingly.
I wound up telling Purple about the childhood trauma that had given me a fear of public speaking. He was sweet about it. That meandered into things closer to the present day, and how I'd got over the legitimate fear in the junior year of high school (the secret was knowing my material cold), but I still got stage fright any time I felt uncertain. Including going into a call center. Purple's secret there is, you don't actually have to be good in order to succeed there, you just have to know more than the guy calling in. Which is a refreshing way to look at it.
We talked about how this guy hitting on me didn't set off my alarms, and how I find myself subconsciously assessing how much damage some guy could do me if everything went terribly wrong. He's still surprised by that, and remarked that either it's pretty uncommon, or women just don't talk about it [to him]. I expressed that I thought that I as a person operated a lot less fearfully than the average woman, and it doesn't come up with dudes because it's like air. I feel pretty safe in the work parking lot even when it's pretty dark because it's a tech campus and basically the only people around are fellow techies, and on the whole I don't feel like I attract negative attention. (Wisecracks about the security guard who speeds around in a golf cart with the lights turned out went here.) One of the times when attention can swing super negative super fast is when a dude gets turned down romantically. Insert http://okcreepsters.tumblr.com/ here.
The topic of altered states came up; the night I had 5 shots of whiskey in quick succession came to mind. It was one of those moments of super addled clarity. I had been super depressed in and around there, and the mood had lifted while I was drunk as hell. Fortunately, my takeaway had been "I should remember how this brain state feels, so I can try to replicate it while sober", and not "I should stay drunk" nor "This is too terrible to keep putting up with". I expressed a variation on bootstrapping: give yourself a wedgie to lift you out of the depression. That resulted in the person with delicate external anatomy giving a lecture on the effects of the wedgie. We alternated between being appalled and giggling like preteens.
My nails caught the light, and Purple took a look. He wasn't quite sure what was bathing suit-y about them, except they were Wonder Woman blue. "Oh!" I said. That was, in fact, it.
There's a guy with a hoverboard style scooter at work. He zooms around on it. I saw him in the cafeteria today.
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Yes, that sounds about right.
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Mr. Sub-tle continues to make good choices for guest speakers. We got to see Geena Davis speak on Tuesday. I wound up getting to ask the last question. Mr. Sub-tle had been calling on everyone by position, like "you in the back" and "you next to Dean Pelton" -- me, he called by name. :D
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Also, really good speakers.