Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2015-11-14 02:05 am
azurelunatic) wrote2015-11-14 02:05 am
Kiwifruit, and other euphemisms
I seem to be sleeping nearly enough again, which is a relief. I am no longer compelled to get out of bed and stay awake if I wake up a little too early, but I'm also not falling asleep randomly during the day either. That said, this morning I realized my timing was pretty close if I was going to get to that meeting on time. I got lunch on my way in, then parked in one of the upper lots that appears a lot further from the building than it actually is. I arrived exactly on time. The host of the meeting was already there, but no one else was. (I could in fact have parked in the usual place and walked, and been more on time than most of the people.)
I am sure that everyone else who was supposed to be at this meeting would have been able to contribute usefully. I hope my one suggestion was useful, but I was there for logistics and nothing they were hammering out was remotely related. Since they were not done, another meeting has been scheduled for next week. I intend to call in.
Aunt-Manager had been having a rough morning. She had a meeting in the same room following. She dashed out to the kitchen to get a cup of cereal and milk so she'd have something for lunch (since the meeting would go until the cafeteria closed). She'd been uncaffeinated, and had made two pots of coffee and got none of them. I asked her how she took her coffee. She said approximately "Gottarungetthismeeting!" and whizzed out of the kitchen. So I made a cup of coffee the way I like it (white, with sugar) and walked back to the meeting room and stuck my head in and handed over the coffee.
Purple has not been having the most coherent week. On Tuesday he'd asked if it was Friday yet. Today I mentioned that his shirt from yesterday was in Fishie's school colors. "Blue and white?" he asked. "Maybe I'm losing days," I said, but I could have sworn that that shirt was yesterday. He had, somehow, read "yesterday" as "today".
We made dinner plans. He named a chain, and specified "The nearby one." "Oh, the one before $ROAD?" I asked. "You can see $NEARBYROAD from it," he clarified.
Now, I'm not the best with Silly Valley geography yet, but I drive on $NEARBYROAD regularly in my comings and goings from work, and never had I seen a $CHAIN located on that place. "Um, perhaps you'd better show me on the map," I said, and he obligingly pulled up a browser window and zoomed in on the google map to show the place. "Oh, so it is," he said, pointing at the road just beyond the turnoff.
I looked at the road on the other side. "Um," I said. "$NEARBYROAD?!?!?"
"I don't know what I was thinking," he said.
"Well, they start with the same letter..."
"San starts with an S."
"That's like 'the'. It doesn't count."
He wrapped up some of the computerstuff and gave me some background on the conversation that he had to wrap up that I tried to keep my beak out of. Suffice to say that being human is hard. Since it was Friday, he gathered up the fruit on the desk, a kiwi and an Asian pear. He offered me the pear; I declined. He wrapped his hand protectively around the kiwi and declared that he was not about to share his kiwi with me.
"That sounds really bad, like some kind of euphemism," he declared. I agreed, and started giggling as I tried to figure out what "share my kiwi" could be standing in for. We got all the way out of the building and to the part of the sidewalk that *still* smells like natural gas before the penny dropped and I figured out what fuzzy, round body part might be represented by the kiwi.
He declared that we were both pretty punchy if I had been giggling that much about the kiwi even without a body part attached; the banter wrapped up with me declaring "You keep your kiwis to yourself, mister!" before hopping in the car.
Ms. Antisocialest Butterfly was running late. Purple said something that may be the title for my Yuletide fic, and I worldbuilt a little with him before she arrived.
Our dinner took quite a while to show up. Purple had ordered fajitas. The plates are usually sizzling. The waiter said something that started like "the plate--" "hot, don't touch it, right?" Purple filled in. "No, actually, it's safe by now..." he said. I was reminded of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
coffeechica and http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/33119808/435677
The meat was apparently cooked until dead, also, which was not to Purple's particular liking.
One problem with those little tablets on the tables which are supposed to let you split the check and pay: kids will wander around and switch them. Approximately three different members of the waitstaff mentioned this at one point or another, as ours had been switched and needed switching back. I included the fact that Purple had touched his fajita plate and had not caught on fire in their little customer experience survey.
We wandered out into the parking lot. Ms. Antisocialest Butterfly zoomed off. Purple mentioned that he wasn't feeling 100% at the moment, and could I stick around for a bit? Of course I could.
We shall sum up the next half-hour thusly: eventually, Purple was once again safe to drive. (I had offered him a ride home; he had apparently thought through the logistics sufficiently to declare them comparatively more obnoxious.) I warmed up the car a bit, then headed back to work to wrap up a few last things. When the phone rang, I was still jumpy. It was Purple, calling to let me know he was home in one piece, and from various signs he thought it had been exposure to an allergen. Joy!
I got a ticket filed for what logistics I knew about for the event. Whee. I also got a survey for logistics for the *other* event, which is proceeding much better.
By the time I got home, I reckoned it was too late for laundry, then proceeded to stay up another two hours (so I could have done laundry anyway). Ah well.
I am sure that everyone else who was supposed to be at this meeting would have been able to contribute usefully. I hope my one suggestion was useful, but I was there for logistics and nothing they were hammering out was remotely related. Since they were not done, another meeting has been scheduled for next week. I intend to call in.
Aunt-Manager had been having a rough morning. She had a meeting in the same room following. She dashed out to the kitchen to get a cup of cereal and milk so she'd have something for lunch (since the meeting would go until the cafeteria closed). She'd been uncaffeinated, and had made two pots of coffee and got none of them. I asked her how she took her coffee. She said approximately "Gottarungetthismeeting!" and whizzed out of the kitchen. So I made a cup of coffee the way I like it (white, with sugar) and walked back to the meeting room and stuck my head in and handed over the coffee.
Purple has not been having the most coherent week. On Tuesday he'd asked if it was Friday yet. Today I mentioned that his shirt from yesterday was in Fishie's school colors. "Blue and white?" he asked. "Maybe I'm losing days," I said, but I could have sworn that that shirt was yesterday. He had, somehow, read "yesterday" as "today".
We made dinner plans. He named a chain, and specified "The nearby one." "Oh, the one before $ROAD?" I asked. "You can see $NEARBYROAD from it," he clarified.
Now, I'm not the best with Silly Valley geography yet, but I drive on $NEARBYROAD regularly in my comings and goings from work, and never had I seen a $CHAIN located on that place. "Um, perhaps you'd better show me on the map," I said, and he obligingly pulled up a browser window and zoomed in on the google map to show the place. "Oh, so it is," he said, pointing at the road just beyond the turnoff.
I looked at the road on the other side. "Um," I said. "$NEARBYROAD?!?!?"
"I don't know what I was thinking," he said.
"Well, they start with the same letter..."
"San starts with an S."
"That's like 'the'. It doesn't count."
He wrapped up some of the computerstuff and gave me some background on the conversation that he had to wrap up that I tried to keep my beak out of. Suffice to say that being human is hard. Since it was Friday, he gathered up the fruit on the desk, a kiwi and an Asian pear. He offered me the pear; I declined. He wrapped his hand protectively around the kiwi and declared that he was not about to share his kiwi with me.
"That sounds really bad, like some kind of euphemism," he declared. I agreed, and started giggling as I tried to figure out what "share my kiwi" could be standing in for. We got all the way out of the building and to the part of the sidewalk that *still* smells like natural gas before the penny dropped and I figured out what fuzzy, round body part might be represented by the kiwi.
He declared that we were both pretty punchy if I had been giggling that much about the kiwi even without a body part attached; the banter wrapped up with me declaring "You keep your kiwis to yourself, mister!" before hopping in the car.
Ms. Antisocialest Butterfly was running late. Purple said something that may be the title for my Yuletide fic, and I worldbuilt a little with him before she arrived.
Our dinner took quite a while to show up. Purple had ordered fajitas. The plates are usually sizzling. The waiter said something that started like "the plate--" "hot, don't touch it, right?" Purple filled in. "No, actually, it's safe by now..." he said. I was reminded of
coffeechica and http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/33119808/435677 The meat was apparently cooked until dead, also, which was not to Purple's particular liking.
One problem with those little tablets on the tables which are supposed to let you split the check and pay: kids will wander around and switch them. Approximately three different members of the waitstaff mentioned this at one point or another, as ours had been switched and needed switching back. I included the fact that Purple had touched his fajita plate and had not caught on fire in their little customer experience survey.
We wandered out into the parking lot. Ms. Antisocialest Butterfly zoomed off. Purple mentioned that he wasn't feeling 100% at the moment, and could I stick around for a bit? Of course I could.
We shall sum up the next half-hour thusly: eventually, Purple was once again safe to drive. (I had offered him a ride home; he had apparently thought through the logistics sufficiently to declare them comparatively more obnoxious.) I warmed up the car a bit, then headed back to work to wrap up a few last things. When the phone rang, I was still jumpy. It was Purple, calling to let me know he was home in one piece, and from various signs he thought it had been exposure to an allergen. Joy!
I got a ticket filed for what logistics I knew about for the event. Whee. I also got a survey for logistics for the *other* event, which is proceeding much better.
By the time I got home, I reckoned it was too late for laundry, then proceeded to stay up another two hours (so I could have done laundry anyway). Ah well.