azurelunatic: Alaska Nanooks logo. (hockey)
Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 ([personal profile] azurelunatic) wrote2017-02-25 01:34 am

zamboni fire; manprovide

Yesterday: a good training session with some great people. Yay!

Cyteen is a very challenging book, but it's also a ... very good look into a few concepts that were formative to me. ALL THE WARNINGS, and within the first hundred pages, too. (It's a long one.)

If you start talking smack about conspiracy theories related to Aurora Borealis research, you can expect me to give you a piece of my mind. Thus the denizens of a certain group chat were treated to my somewhat profane summary of the activity and purpose of a particular research installation.

My partner and I talked before bed, which is nice when it's voluntary and optional and doesn't get in the way of anyone going to sleep. And it's nice when one can drift off to sleep virtually next to the other.


The night was chilly, so I slept well. I woke up at about the same time as my sunrise lamp. Neat.

A few errands.

Then, beer bash. I caught up with Nora on my way there.

Bash was Mardi Gras themed, so I wore my loud skirt (for the green), my not-purple magenta shirt that set off the quote that gave Purple his nickname, purple lipstick (I prefer shiny, but matte will do in a pinch), and gold eyeshadow. R noticed the eyeshadow and approved. I may try further variations on the theme.

My experiences with the cafeteria ... continue. The snacks were:
* chicken wings
* assorted cut vegetables
* hush puppies
* gumbo
* King Cake

I'm used to not being able to eat most of the offerings, and it was welcome to be able to eat more than half (the cake counted). I could eat some of the vegetables, and the hush puppies, as well as the cake. I have textural/bone/skin issues with wings (NOPE NOPE NOPE), and the gumbo was so very laced with bell pepper that one whiff of it told me it was poison. But some of the raw vegetables were not bell pepper and not tomato, and the hush puppies didn't appear to have anything wrong with them. Plus, cake. So, yay. And also, yay for dinner after...

I hung out with the Dean and his son for a bit, then they bailed early to run errands. Somewhere in there, while the Dean was out circulating, the kid and I were left at the table to make small talk while nibbling snacks. It's amazing how much going on in my life is super not safe for 13-year-old kids to hear about. The kid had just got his first Facebook a few days ago, which is why I am guessing 13... Then about eight dudes swooped in and took over a chunk of the table, which I'd sort of been trying to save for the rest of The Guys. But The Guys were not forthcoming, and then the dudes finished eating and swooped out as suddenly as they'd come. I explained why you never eat the bad cafeteria pizza to the kid, who was suitably anti-impressed.

phone texted back and said he was too lazy to come back in, he'd had 6 meetings this week, and anyway his boyfriend was home. I texted back something ... encouraging. Yeah, we'll go with "encouraging."
lb texted back and said he hadn't been at work today, sorry.

I texted Purple to say where I was. Purple said he was on his way. Then I saw him, heading down the stairs for the milkshake bunker. "Purple!" I hollered across the room, in my best drill sergeant tones. Purple turned around to look. I waved. He looked confused, then seemed to lock on a few degrees shy of me. (Though I was aware he was spacy due to the head cold.) He went and sat down at another table, where it proved that R was sitting with some friends. I joined, and Purple explained the confusion.

Delightful conversation was had by all. One of the guys stayed a little longer than the rest; it was a good time. He chatted about his daughter's (his) chickens, a Rhode Island Red and a Brown Leghorn; I mentioned some of my past chickens.
There was a little mention of the Current Bathroom Problems, wherein I said I was very glad to no longer be a kid, and shared a shortened version of my little story. I was in fact never the most femme of kids, and I was often halfway in the frog pond (on cue, Purple chimed in with, "There is no such thing as halfway in the frog pond!"); this meant I wasn't always necessarily in "girl clothes". And two little terrors spotted my nice striped sports socks in the girls' bathroom, and chose to scale a wall. It was pretty traumatic, actually, and I feel intensely for the kids who have to deal with that every day, and not just once. The guy mentioned a few things about the woman who had been his "best man"; she'd said something about perhaps not being able to perform the role at the time, but it had gone over the guy's head.

We talked smartwatches (his is an old-school calculator watch); he mentioned that he has another particularly cool watch where the numbers are on rotating circles, but he's never been able to google the right things to figure out what even to search for.

I would later learn by means of Google Image Search that the type is called "jump hour"; in the quiet darkness of Purple's office, I would mention the term "jump egg", which is neither one of those little walking toys that tries to flip, nor a Tenga egg (or any of its clones).

There is a billboard in North Carolina, where some fuckhead apparently paid for ... quite a billboard.

[Image: billboard, with the unadorned statement:
Real men provide
Real women appreciate it]

This was met with jeers from my circles, naturally. I shared it with Purple, whose response was:

"Men provide. Women are expected to like it."

[personal profile] sithjawa: "manprovide, v: to dump something on someone you perceive as a woman without asking, and expect them to be grateful."

Purple said he hoped that whoever paid for that wasn't serious. He racked his brains for a scenario that didn't include someone being $2000 worth of really really fearfully fucking sexist, and came up with a thing where someone was in a bar and said something dumbass, and it got to be a thing, and somehow someone dared someone to put it on a billboard. "An alternative possibility," he said. Sort of like an alternative universe. Or alternative facts.

Purple realized that people giving him large bags of Hershey's Kisses and expecting him to be pleased might be manproviding, as Purple does not in fact like that specific chocolate.

Eventually we wound up at the mental image of a ball pit full of brainweasels and void crabs. You do not want an extra hour in this ball pit. I suspect that this ball pit is in the observation car on the lonesome train.

[personal profile] norabombay said the other day that 2016 was a dumpster fire. 2017 is a zamboni fire. Purple liked that, because it was surreal, but questioned the analogy a little. He saw how 2016 involved a whole bunch of garbage, and yeah, the fire... but a zamboni?

"You kind of expect a dumpster fire," I said. "There's all that garbage, and yeah, catching fire is a thing that it could do ... but a zamboni, we have moved on from things that can catch fire and are sort of expected, to things that really should not catch fire, and were not expected."

The guy wandered off, and Mr. Tux wandered over, and much fun was had. Then we all headed back down to the main campus. Purple had about another half-hour of work remaining.

We ran into Rocky on the way, and said hi. Apparently I'm looking well. We reminisced about the Grandmanager, whose memory is more blessing than pain, now. I told the story about my manager's first orders to me (if the Grandmanager says something nonsensical, ask an adult), and the one about the time the Grandmanager derailed a disciplinary meeting, completely by accident.

I may have some of the details wrong, but this is approximately how it went. Some staffer had told some dipshit at the helpdesk where to get off, and the dipshit's manager had booked a meeting with the dipshit, the staffer, and the staffer's manager. (Purple: "Your 'friend.' Ye-aaaaah." Me: "No, really, it wasn't me that time!") However, the manager hadn't been available, so the grandmanager got tapped for it.

Grandmanager was notorious for not actually reading his email unless it was flagged for his attention. He hadn't done the background reading on this one. So he waltzed into the meeting and promptly took over, dragging the utterly bewildered helpdesk people through random tangent after random tangent -- because, after all, why would helpdesk book a meeting with User Experience if not to talk about User Experience? And the staffer escaped the meeting un-chastized. Much to the complete confusion of the helpdesk folks.

I showed off my brand-new emergency dental work to Purple, who was appropriately pleased for me.

I introduced the phrase "I didn't mean he was your *kissing* boyfriend!" to Purple, who responded with a joke about couch-buttering. Ahh, Purple. ♥

Dinner was planned. I chatted with my partner on the way there. They had Friday night plans, and were on their way to the function.

Purple and I both nabbed nice parking spaces, but were told there would be a lengthy wait for a table (as opposed to a booth). However, one opened up fairly quickly. Unfortunately, the place has taken to using those terribly bright little tabletop tablets. The one on our table was malfunctioning, such that it started blinking and nothing that Ms. Antisocialest Butterfly did would make it completely stop. (She may have been repeatedly hitting the Summon Server button, but she kept un-hitting it and then it would start blinking again.) At the end of dinner, the experience survey asked whether the tablet had enhanced the dining experience. I went with a resounding "no", and explained the blinking problem. Purple had ultimately taken one of the cardboard coasters and fashioned a shield to keep the light from distracting us. I think, next time, I may become Difficult and ask for the damn thing to be removed from the table. If I wanted a screen flashing in my face, we'd have gone to a sports bar.

I explained my current emotional state to Purple, a bit. He wished me the best of luck, and said something about a canary and my stomach. "The tweets are coming from my tits," I reminded him, a callback to some earlier shenanigans.

I'm going to miss him so much.

I called Dawn on the way home, and updated her on things.

My partner's still out; I did get a few pictures back via the group chat. It looks like a good time is being had by all. Hee.

My brain keeps doing things on me, and I will have to keep reminding it that this is Simply Not Allowed.