azurelunatic: "catch me if I fall", shooting star (catch me if I fall . . .)
Went to bed early; woke up early. Went to work in a timely fashion. Was early enough to get a kiwi (not wiki, fingers!). Purple told me that I would not have wanted his kiwi, as it had been rock hard. My kiwi was similarly hard. We walked abruptly away from this line of conversation, as there was nowhere it could go that wouldn't become worse.

The conversations between my team and the database vendors had me at one point stomping into Haystack's office with a very "CAN YOU FUCKING BELIEVE THIS?!?!" gait. His officemate was somewhat surprised. This was, I believe, when the sales guy suggested that the actual fucking bug that Haystack and I had managed to replicate (on two different installs) was user error.

Fishie and I are working out logistics for her visit.

Got "key member" orientated at my hackerspace this weekend. (I didn't bother at the old location because there would have been no point -- my knees couldn't do that many stairs casually, and the person who needs the elevator could never have been the first one in or last one out.) I have plans that may all turn out to nothing but something may come of them.

Re-did my blue dye this weekend, and just in time, too: Purple declared that he'd have had to start calling me the Bronze Lunatic instead. :-P

I brought a box of buttons cookies to work. ;)

In dim indoor light, you can almost mistake my hair for a natural color. In bright light, it is very very much bright. Right now my hair is a fantastic gradient from purple to teal. I am delight ^_^ One of the people in the cafeteria complimented me on my purple hair, right in front of Purple. He seemed pleased.

Dear gender-norm-enforcing fuckheads of the world: you drain the joy from everything you touch and the rest of us would be justified in leaving you to the hollow shell of a world that you're assiduously trying to create. Also, I am probably larger and scarier than you, and you wouldn't like me when I am specifically angry at you for hurting one of my own.

Dear dudes who like nifty old buttons: this is a hobby I can totally get behind.

I wind up talking through basically everything with Purple these days, and Friday night's assorted woe was no exception. It was kind of a terrible night for everybody, and it did me good to hear his side of things. After examining my reactions for a while, I've determined that my phobia gives me various amounts of space based on how much I am/am called upon to be the grown-ass adult in the situation. A short list. )

I picked up dinner. Before I placed my order, though, I got out of the way so two people going out could pass me, and the younger enthusiastically asked me what hairdye was that because she had been longing for purple hair and my hair was exactly the color. So I wrote it down for her on her phone, and included the bleach too, because her hair is darker than mine.
azurelunatic: A cartoon bee flying. Captioned "that'll give you, er, BEES."  (bees)
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.

Read more... )
azurelunatic: "catch me if I fall", shooting star (catch me if I fall . . .)
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 Read more... )
azurelunatic: Egyptian Fayoumis hen in full cry.  (loud fayoumis)
So partway through the evening, Purple had come back to his computer after a long day of coordinating with the guy who's about to go on a month-long vacation (interrupted by an offsite lunch), and we checked in with each other. I had, I announced cheerfully, just found a bug!

Purple sounded sympathetic.
Sympathy was not what I was going for here. I had found a bug! It was awesome! I didn't have to fix it myself.
Purple told me in no uncertain terms that I was weird, and that he hates bugs, doesn't matter which side he's on, dev or user. (Also, that he'd pulled an adorable little caterpillar out of the mint in his lemonade at lunch. He'd been the only one to keep drinking the lemonade after that, since it was a harmless little caterpillar and he's a country boy...)

I explained: if it was a big bug, I would not be happy. But if it was a little bug, I was happy! I found some images to illustrate:

Warnings apply. )
Little: http://blacksoldierflyblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/soldier-grubs-hand-feeding-2-BL.jpg

The problem is that under certain circumstances, I can make the tool fail to save data that I've entered. The question is, what are the circumstances, as while I replicated it three times, I'm not sure what exact combination of things I did. I'm going to have to do it again. Yaaaaaaaaaaaay!

Purple says I'm very, very weird.
I say that these bugs are juicy and delicious. Buk buk buk buk buk buk!
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
Wednesday and Thursday were both fuck o'clock meeting mornings. I went. I took notes. Parking at work has been wacky lately due to the neighbors sharing the lot by my building.

Thursday evening was a party at my hackerspace. I went first in search of a fake knife suitable for my costume. The Halloween shop was super super crowded. They had a couple knives but none quite suitable. Then I went in search of toilet paper, as I was nearly out. (Things that make me glad to be an adult: not looked at with suspicion for buying toilet paper the day before Halloween.) I looked for a knife there, but again, no luck.

I showed up at the hackerspace. Parking was not a problem. I ran into a bunch of people I already knew (from online and off) and had several delightful chats. There was someone dressed as Deep Dream, and an awesome Clipper Card.

There was a paper circuits station, and a buttonmaking station. I helped a few people learn the button maker. I then tried my hand at combining the little light and the button, and learned a few practical considerations.

Eventually it was late and the cleanup was nearly over; the key member in the R2D2 dress was a little stressed about getting people to leave. A few people had just gone upstairs to examine the library, so I gave them a few minutes.

Then I clapped my hands very loudly a few times. In my third-best carrying voice, I thanked everyone for coming and declared it a delightful evening. And if they were not actively engaged in cleaning up, I added, they could please feel free to make their way towards the exits.

I figured out the knife problem while I was at the hackerspace. Read more... ) I dressed in full-on pajamas: curlers and a kerchief, a pink nightgown top, fuzzy South Park pants, and bare feet in my sandals. I carried my iPad for illustrative purposes, and kept a helpful big plastic wine glass as well. Losing a knife fight to YouTube: terrible experience, hilarious and alarming costume.

Friday was the work party. I showed off my costume to my team and random other people.

Eventually it was party time. I wandered over to the emergency tent with my emergency kit. I helped keep the fort held down. Eventually Purple came in. Eventually I wandered up to join him, and located him, and shortly located Mr. Zune as well (in town again briefly; he moved up to the Seattle area). Mr. Zune finally met the Chicken Guy. I snagged some of Purple's cotton candy.

There had been a DJ. We decided to go in to the concert area on the big lawn. The security guys were demanding to see badges and wristbands. I made to present mine; the security guy said "I know you!" and waved me through. "Oh no! You have a knife in the arm! Call the emergency response team! Wait, you're the emergency response team! Help yourself!" A real cut-up, this guy. ;)

We found a place at the top of the slope with half a view of the stage. It had a great view of the steepest part of the slope, which was inhabited by a tiny Darth Vader, several stormtroopers, and countless Elsas and Batmen. They started out running around; eventually they would all start tumbling down the hill. It was adorable.

We mostly chatted; the musical act was not terrible but also not super compelling. Mr. Zune promised to let us know if he thinks a ducking is imminent, so we can attend. In the event, he will have to be back in Silly Valley so his team can do the ducking promptly, as otherwise they will try and get it done in some other way.

Purple and I ditched out shortly before the set ended, and did one last sweep of the food stalls to see if there was anything else we wanted. I got some chicken and cornbread and a snowcone. Purple got some questionable cherry popcorn. I claimed one piece. That was quite enough. We watched the crowds stream past and out.

The DJs were still going strong as we walked past, and were throwing Jonas Brother and candy themed pillows to the enthusiastic teenyboppers moshing on the lawn. The song involved going down and doing shots; I felt it was somewhat incongruous with the tiny children bouncing around enthusiastically. Purple and I watched the fun for another few minutes. He didn't register the song as being as incredibly inappropriate as I did. (Google and I eventually tracked it down: it is in fact "Timber", Pitbull feat. Ke$ha. Ahem. Read more... )
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
This weekend I embarked upon a sewing project with my aunt. No actual sewing got done, but there is now a dress form in something approaching my shape, with its foam curing on my aunt's deck. I can't wait to see how it came out. I also got the chance to talk to Darkside, which was lovely as always.

I woke up all rrrghy, and got discombobulated a bit by an unexpected call about a prescription waiting for pickup. So I went and picked that up. I then went to the office and tried to park. Unfortunately, between the garage that was closed in anticipation of the Halloween events, and the section of the lower parking lot that is closed off since a neighbor is experiencing a parking surge and we're being a good neighbor, there was no parking near the building. I parked somewhat grumpily in the central garage.

As soon as I got into the office and began rather urgently finishing up stuff that needed doing pronto, I got a call from the helpdesk people.

There's an internal main site with a lot of stuff that people use regularly. Every now and then when I visit that page, a pop-up window pops up with a survey.

Lately, the pop-up window that pops up has an expired survey.

I filed a ticket requesting that whoever is in charge of that site fix the survey they are serving.

The guy calling back from the helpdesk wanted me to try in Internet Explorer.
"No," I said firmly.
"Are you not using Windows? Or I can start a WebEx!"
"No," I said firmly, and hung up on him.
The phone rang again.
"Somehow we got cut off," he explained, and started exhorting me to let him take over my computer while I was trying to get something done before lunch.
"No," I clarified, and hung up on him.

I left a somewhat snippy note on the ticket, then went for lunch.

Mr. Tux never gets tired of Shawn stories.

I felt like I got stuff done. Eventually it was leaving time. Purple had parked at the end of campus furthest from the central garage, and asked whether we'd split in our own directions, or whether one of us was going to drive the other of us to the other's car, and if so, who. I nominated him as I had a sewing machine in my passenger seat. So I grabbed my stuff (and a grape Hi-Chew and a butterscotch disc) and headed for his building. Then I waited with my rather battered copy of The Martian while he had one last clarifying conversation with a teammate.

Purple pulled around to where I was parked, then paused, turned, and backed in to the space one over from my car, and turned everything off. We had one of our usual wacky parking lot conversations, complete with inappropriate discussions of elephants and me unexpectedly comparing Threesome UK to Spaced.

Wednesday and Thursday are going to be early days. Oof.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
(I was headed to bed, but then my brain was full.)

Woke up, stopped by aunt's but she wasn't there, got coffee, took morning pills, picked up prescription, hit work. Realized that having taken morning pills on 40g carb which was *also liquid and coffee* was not a suitable "snack"; effects were to make me owlish with a -17 modifier to my DEX. Fortunately I was rolling 19s pretty consistently until I got food, at which point the handicap started dropping precipitiously.

Purple and his crew opted for lunch inside Purple's building; Mr. Tux and I joined the three of them.

Even now, the ghost of Brad haunts us. I explained the 90% programmer (yet again): the one who says "This is 90% done, someone else can complete the other 10%" and the person/people tasked to complete the other 10% say: "What the shit were you smoking? This is 10% done." "But it's working!" "It's not usable." "*I* can use it!" "You're not a user."

I proceeded through my inbox, and popped out of my building with coffee at the appointed time. Two people from a friend's department were due a ducking in the duck pond. Two ducks were present, which I felt was a good omen. They did not fly off.

The first guy asked was he going to have to duck himself??? Eventually they got things straightened out, and people picked him up, waded out with him, and tossed him in. The other guy couldn't go actually in the duck pond for health reasons, but had cheerfully agreed to a "virtual ducking", where they took pictures in front of the pond, paraded him into the adjacent building and doused him in the convenient shower, then brought him back out for more pictures. I came down to offer both gentlemen cellophane-wrapped packets of boozecandies, and fairly terrible slide whistles.

One of the apparent traditions is also that the team provides dry clothing, often of a hilarious nature. Mr. Zune's Overlord, a dyed-in-the-wool Stanford man, had been given sports attire of a rival institution. One of the guys came out of the building wearing a red Angry Bird costume -- a red sack with a surly face on his belly -- with violently orange shorts. The other guy came out in a giant cigarette box and plaid pajama pants. He held the slide whistle in his teeth and clutched the packet of boozecandy, giving the effect of a box of cigarettes who was also smoking.

#3 suggested that I come back for cake, but I had a meeting and also blood sugar that said no.

The meeting was button construction with the Commandant. Breast cancer awareness! )

Exchange's message for when you accidentally put a period at the end of an email address contains, in point of fact, a period directly after the example of what an email address should look like. Since I had copied the address (period and all) from not!Facebook's email integration helpy dialog, I submitted a suggestion to the not!Facebook gods to risk the wrath of the commafuckers and remove the period from the email integration dialog (to help the careless copiers).

There will be a meeting tomorrow morning. I will be taking notes. I coaxed Purple out before the hour got too late.

Since every employee who chooses to go to the Halloween extravaganza gets to bring two guests, Purple had claimed a wristband for me (as well as his own and one for his buddy from the condo board) and dropped it on my desk while I was off with the Commandant. I tried it on. Wow, was it tight. I concluded from that and from something someone said on [off-topic] that the guest wristbands were sized for kids. I left feedback, that maybe there should be some non-kid-sized wristbands next year. The person replied (in a way that wouldn't inform anyone else of what to do) that in fact there were two sizes. So I wandered down to the security office to swap mine for a grown-up sized wristband. The security guy hadn't realized there were two sizes.

Purple and I are comfortable enough to twit each other about gender a bit. He showed up to walk out, and I mentioned that I'd got the wristband thing sorted out. "What kind of woman are you?" he teased.

"I'm a man," I declared in my lowest comfortable speaking voice.

Purple busted out laughing in sheer surprise. He hadn't been expecting that. Mind, he didn't know what he had been expecting, but it hadn't been that.

My gender is a miasma of incandescent plasma.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
Woke up, called the one place and waited on hold interminably to get a price check, then meandered down to the other pharmacy to ask for a transfer. I of course got in the wrong line, so had to queue up twice. However, the prescription should be ready tomorrow, eleven or noonish.

I saw a message about weird roped-off stuff in the parking lot, followed a while later by the actual parking lot, which was alarmingly full and buzzing with valets. There were also more people than usual around, much to our collective confusion.

Got in to work; saw in #cupcake backscroll that R was back from GHC and had wandered up to the top of the hill for lunch with Purple. As he'd gone idle with no lunch ping, and it was a good twenty minutes after, I realized that it was unlikely that I'd get there and get food in time to join them, they were due some 1:1 chat probably, and my team was due custody of me as well. So I had lunch at the team's new preferred table, overlooking the duck pond. The Commandant and I strategized about stuff, too.

I showed Huckleberry Designer the button-making machine. Whee!

I've been having troubles with OWA Thick Client for Windows (2013). I suppose at this point it's worthless to complain about it, because OWA Thick Client for Windows (2016) is in the pipeline and I'll be getting it at work at some point. However, some ass at tier 1 helldesk assigned my rantfest about the thing to my building's desktop support, the long-suffering and overworked Chip. Never mind that this rant included the sentiment that this was not a user education issue, this was an issue that had a needlessly complicated workaround, the user was self-educating, and their software needlessly hides the email address which is a PROBLEM WHEN THE PERSON NO LONGER WORKS THERE, IF YOU WANT TO FIND SPECIFIC EMAILS FROM THEM WITH A COMPLICATED SEARCH. *kicks LDAP in the database*

I chatted about my costume plans with the evening janitor. He doesn't do Halloween but he knows that I do. My costume comes down to a sort of gory shenanigan which has some body horror, and the thought clearly squicked him some. Alas.

Purple was ready early-ish, and we wandered out into the evening. We discussed the flagged-off area, and how it is probably too early to have anything to do with the planned Halloween shenanigans. I asked whether I could bum a wristband off him or whether all his were spoken for. He's going to give an external friend first refusal.

My plans for the evening involved laundry.

Tomorrow, I plan to:
* Reconnect my chat clients if the outage lasted past their reconnect limit
* Close the window because gutter washing
* Drop by my aunt's to pick up the cheese I forgot
* Drop by the bank, maybe
* Pick up my prescription
* Hope I'm not late for lunch

(And then I slept through the entire night after Comcast crapped out, so I'm posting this in the morning.)
* Attend a duck pond appointment
* Attend the button-making party
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
I am losing track of my days again.

Stuff has been happening at work.

Being a parent, even a fishparent, is hard. (But very worth it.)

Purple said a thing and it stuck in my brain and played all sorts of havoc on various functions because brains. It wasn't a bad thing for him to have said, but my brain grabbed it and sort of dragged it under the couch and stayed there with glowing eyes for a while. That was last night. Fortunately a round with the database seems to have knocked that clear of my brain.

Yesterday some of the lights in the cafeteria were flickering weirdly. I filed a ticket, then called security and asked them to summon the electrician.

Today, while the entire table was on a topic that they found very concerning and of immediate interest, but I found tedious as hell, I spotted someone walk in with bright blue hair. It was, of course, the fellow to whom I had caused to be mailed a sawed-off pool noodle! I excused myself and popped up to go say hello. (I had to. Our hairs match!)

He was happy to see me, and mentioned that his group had been taking my name in vain that morning, talking about the helldesk software. He introduced me to the guy he was standing next to, likewise in from out of town, but a rather lot further away out of town. The other dude has been with the company like forever, and is something like employee #3. That's some history there. I explained why I'm feeling optimistic about the direction the helldesk software is taking: the underlying technology is not terrible (apparently), the layer they put on top of it was misguided at best, and happily the group working on it now hates it more than I do. And I described the experience of being in what was supposed to be a user session, but one of the guys who was supposed to be quietly listening and maybe asking questions kept jumping in with details about how the thing was *worse than we thought*. #terribleparfait Plus I was one of the movers/shakers in the IRC preservation effort.

So I've now shaken the hand of that dude.

When I got back to the lunch table, the conversation was still going on.

Between a Windows 10 upgrade gone weird, a normal Windows update gone severely rebooty, and a number of away-from-desk tasks, Purple wasn't around for much of the afternoon and evening. Around about 6:30 I tiptoed over with a can of the good (blue) mountain dew to check-see if he was doing all right. I poked my head into an office gone still and cold, all screens off, laptop bag still leaning against a file cabinet. So he was in the office (somewhere), just not there. Possibly not for a few hours, my nose said. I set the can of Dew on the desk and headed back for my own cozy little cube, reflecting on how I had come to the conclusion that the office had not been sat in for a while, and tracing it back to the stillness, smell, and temperature of the air -- all of which sensing had apparently been done by my nose.

It was, at length, time to go home. I had hit my second wind and was Doing Various Things when Purple wrapped up. I could have kept going for at least another half-hour.

Purple, it seems, is a colorful guy. Today he was wearing that really bright green shirt. He reminisced about a time a friend addressed him making reference to that color, even though that friend might have never seen him in that shirt. I reminisced about that time he'd worn that shirt with the camel-colored overshirt. "Dress to wound," he said smugly. Then we played imaginary dressup and tried to put him in the intentionally worst plausible outfit we could think of.

Flip-flops with fuzzy socks, plaid pajama pants, polo shirt with a standard tie (or maybe a 70s button-down open down to the last 2 buttons with gold chains), a smoking jacket or a tracksuit jacket, and ... a hat.

I argued for a fedora. He declared that a propeller beanie would be over the top, but a newsboy cap...

"You know what the Library Monkeys called that back in high school?"
"What?"
"A Shawn hat."

After we finished giggling from that, we made to split, but got sidetracked talking about me vs. the database tool. He seemed concerned that I was still wrestling with it, and offered troubleshooty helpiness. Eventually, after kind of going "er ... mostly I haven't had enough time with it..." I pointed out that it looked like he was trying to troubleshoot, and I didn't really think it could be helped further except by more time and fewer random ... I paused. It wasn't quite that the horses had got out of the barn and now the barn was on fire, it was that the barn hadn't even been there five minutes ago. So, yeah.


On my way home, I encountered "UTF 8" on the highway. Hi!
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
Monday's bid to refuel worked out well.
Monday's bid to deposit some checks did not work so well.
Tuesday's bid to deposit some checks went much better, despite the location of the bank being a little dodgy between the website, my memory, and where it actually was. (Turns out that was the location I went to Some Time Ago, via a much more shenanigan-laden route.)

I got to work by lunchtime, but despite the clear presence of Purple (car, stack of BSG DVDs on my desk), there was no sign of him on IM, nor lunch ping. I decided that I was headed to lunch eventually (having finished some poking at things) and swung by his desk (with salted chocolate pumpkin-spiced caramel in a napkin) intent on either dropping off the choccy or retrieving him in search of lunch had he got into some sort of conversation. He wasn't about, so I left the thing on his desk and sent a lunch ping via email on my way in to the cafeteria.

I saw Mr. Tux in line, and we wound up having an amiable lunch together. His officemate seems to be out or something?

My 1:1 with my manager happened; I have some specific fun things to do with the participant tool. She's pushing a certain agenda also; we'll see where that goes. It's also time to start conference prep again. There's someone in the management stack who is apparently well-described by the term 'bureaucrat', but who takes offense to the term; I suggested 'a rules and processes guy', which she seized on with enthusiasm.

I was face-down in various work when there was a presence at the door to my cube. It was Purple, somewhat sheepish about having disappeared on me without notice. I'd figured he'd gotten caught up in some meeting or other. In fact, it had been a goodbye lunch for his manager, who is moving teams internally. We exchanged appropriate sentiments. He gave me the heads-up that he was leaving early too (headed out of the office before our usual time, and not likely to have the time to swing by my desk to say goodnight).

Fishie's computer has entered a decline. At this point it is a 6+ year old laptop, being kept cool enough to function with a cooling pad, pleasant weather, and an external desk fan. I made a few fishmumly suggestions. Fishie had been saying that she didn't have a *real* reason to get a new computer, she just kind of *wanted* one, yesterday. Then it died twice in a row on her, and I got the sense that this was not an infrequent occurrence. (In fact, I could probably count how common it is from her off-pattern IRC disconnects.) I advised her that wanting a computer that does not regularly crap out is in fact a fully sufficient reason to get a new computer. I gave an overview of some of the relevant computer-woe principles, and suggested canned air. (She doesn't quite seem ready to dive into cracking the case. Though she may at some point unwrap a technician toolkit...) She will be making a spreadsheet. I am so proud of her and her spreadsheets. They provide an excellent framework for her to organize a bunch of things without having excessive anxious feelings about missing things when trying to hold it all in her head at once, and thereby come to a sensible decision that she's happy with.

I left at a sensible hour, and this time I remembered my coffee.

I ran into the Smoking Expat (friend of Purple's, just recently moved to the area, works in iirc my 2nd-cousin department upstairs) at Costco; he seemed surprised and pleased to see me there. I was a little disoriented because he was out of context and using my wallet name, plus I was listening to a podcast. I said "music" because that's one of the generics of non-interactive audio. We crossed paths in the aisles a few more times, and at one point I saw someone else from the same 2nd cousin department talking to him.

phone is celebrating the 4-year anniversary of meeting his partner. I'm very happy for them. Various circumstantial things led me to realize that by this point I have spent about 42% of my life unrequitedly in love with some dude or other named the same thing. I mean. It's clear that I am very good at unrequited love. I am a pro. But. THE SAME FUCKING NAME YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. (At this point, my mental model of Purple pipes up with some commentary about name frequency, and I lose 10 minutes to research...) Though it does turn out that the name is within the top 40 in US popularity during absolutely every year in my personal dating range, peaking around about the time two of these particular fellows were born. (The name Purple's had about the same amount of trouble with is similarly prominent in his dating range, though skewing a little younger, relatively.)

The poodle did not drink a bee. Somehow, the conversation about this on Monday night wandered into Harry Potter, then back out to where I did not remember that it was LBJ who ordered trousers: http://americanradioworks.publicradio.org/features/prestapes/lbj_haggar.html and then somehow back around to bees again, via more information than I strictly needed to know about mosquitoes.

Tomorrow is another day.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
Thursday night: poodle. He's malfunctioning slightly (being 10 by now) and is now on 4x daily pills.
In the middle of the night I woke up with sensory hell due to my hands itching, enough so that I went home to get a pair of gloves to deal with it.

Work was somewhat surreal. lb got the new IRC server set up under his desk, and a few of us poked around on it and made sure it was stable before inviting everyone over. He sent messages in all the channels about what was up, and prepared to do the swap after lunch.

Since I'd been in early, I opted for earlier lunch, and with lb's table. I advised Purple of my plans, and he thought that sounded like a good idea, and decided to join as well.

Mr. Wizard Beard had been at lunch also; afterwards, he offered to show Purple some hardware in his server room, and asked if I'd like to come see as well.

This was my first time inside a full-blown server room. I'd peeked into a room in which there were a few racks which housed some of archive.org before, but that was a room with a couple racks. This is a room with rows and aisles and at least three ginormous cabinet air conditioning units. Mr. Wizard Beard explained some of the provenance of the servers: this one is from that vendor, the other one is from the other one, and they wanted to do X but then plans changed, and now they're doing Y, and we had to do something else with X hardware...

The door has a sign on the outside: NO FOOD. NO LIQUIDS. Read more... )

Work IRC

30/9/15 01:12
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
I have advanced from a little shaky to tired and somewhat headachey, but!

I am yet again the person who stuck their neck out about infrastructure stuff. As the somewhat inevitable result, I have been voluntold as the person who is now responsible for the workplace IRC server.

Mr. Wizard Beard has been involved, to find a corner on a box. (Mr. Wizard Beard is the person who will stab you if you drop one crumb in the server room that lives in the back corner of the office building that lb, Purple, and radius are all in.)

There are several retired IRC admins who spend time on the server, who might be bribed out of retirement with chocolate and/or jellybeans.

The existing VM has been up for nearly 2 years now with scarcely a bobble, so that aspect of it seems least likely to attract trouble.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
"Yes, I see you have a snake. That's not my snake. I don't have to handle that snake. It doesn't match any of the pictures on my snake box. You shouldn't be handling that snake either, so why are you asking me to build better snake gloves for you? Maybe you should give it to the guy with the box that has the matching picture? I searched through the snake intake logs for snakes matching that picture. I found four of them. None of them were in the right boxes." ... "Oh, I see. When you did put the snake in the box with the matching picture, the guy in charge of that box dumped the snake back on your head? Several times? Perhaps I will go speak with him."

Sometimes I go back through my old locked entries. Sometimes I find things that merely happened on the same day as something sensitive, which got thrown into the locked entry merely based on timing. That was one.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
When I wake up in the middle of the night freaking out over Something Or Other, I now have the energy to get up and start Doing Things. This is not always the greatest move. However, when I do start doing this, it does sometimes effectively call my body's bluff on whether this was a good idea, and I find myself going back to bed in short order instead of lying awake freaking out for an hour or two.

Last night's freakout was approximately:
* I am slowly recovering from a pretty gnarly low point, in which I was basically functional enough to go to work, but nothing else.
* For about a month, subsisting on frozen, single-portion-no-prep, and takeout while at home, has meant that my kitchen sink has seen little to no action.
* For the past week-ish, I've been doing enough cooking to wash/rewash a plate and a fork, although not particularly address the forest floor coating of forks in the bottom of the sink.
* Running water in a sink means that whatever's gone down the drain starts to take notice.
* And then there was The Stench.
* An unused garbage disposal, in want of a good hard kick, sits there and hums.
* Reset did not do the job.
* Somehow in some previous cleanup effort, I had put away or recycled all my IKEA hex-keys.

So in the middle of the night I got it into my head that there was no way I could make the kitchen look presentable at *all* (in order to be able to summon the maintenance guy to get the disposal functional to make the smell go away) before my neighbors wound up having the smell get into their apartments (via the kitchen and bathroom vents, which are all connected, so this isn't 100% paranoid fantasy) and complained and of course I would be immediately evicted.

Therefore I got up and about 2 minutes into tidying some of the most obvious kitchen stuff my body realized that actually sleep was a really excellent life choice and I went back to bed. And in the morning I did feel better.

I had a disturbing dream in which I found myself dream violence and dysphoria )

Lunch involved the usual suspects shoving two little round tables together, since there were no available big tables. Conversation started somewhere around The 300 and wound up at the Winchester Mystery House, having detoured through war and armies, Nepal's relationships with India and China, Switzerland's military force and neutrality, what sort of weapons the Swiss army had, and whether the "oh, everyone has their gear at home" meant an airplane in someone's garage, whether or not Winchester made ammunition (yes) and were they still around (yes), and the nature of the Mystery House, and how it's better than the Mystery Spot, and a few other bits and bobs.

At work, I am somewhat waiting on an install of the new version of the database tool to get all up ins and yell about. My aspirational duties also involve a certain amount of Research Logistics Yelling, which is part of the Plan.

After my 1:1, I opened up my email to find that locked entrythis guy will be in my building sometime in the near future. I will make a point of poking my face in with jellybeans during a coffee break or something!

Tomorrow is radius's 40th birthday. Since it was already tomorrow in Australia, we wound up at the cafe (the closer one) in search of ice cream. I looked tragically at the bins with their delicious delicious carbohydrates, and allowed myself a half-scoop. (Upon which Purple did the *facepalm* "Sorry I forgot!" thing. He is a good Purple.)

Mid-evening, I looked back at my personal email and discovered that I was in receipt of a 36-hour notice to enter (24 hours, but they'd been somewhat generous and sent at the end of the previous day rather than the beginning of the next day) because there are Investors, and they are Visiting, and They Will Be Poking Around. Upon which I decided that I was going home at a sensible hour and not attempting to wait up for Mr. Deadline, though I would wait for traffic to die down.

In riveting Helldesk Software news, the team that's to fix the fucker has had a strategic meeting (the recording was posted to not!Facebook) lasting about 2 hours. I pulled up the viewer, popped on my headphones, and started sorting through my mail backlog. The conclusions involve ripping off the terrible front end and just going with the base SaaS package, which is in fact configurable, and they have no fucking reason to be developing bells and whistles on top of it. It also sounds like there are a few departments which may be getting some percussive maintenance in order to conform to some standard of service.

On the one hand, there are departments that really need it. On the other hand, I hope it doesn't interfere with departments which are functioning well.

I wandered over to say goodnight to Purple, with a butterscotch candy and some Mountain Dew. I eyed his whiteboard. I understood the 'It'\''s' and the It's in contrast to it, but what in the name of all *fuckery* was the 'It'"'"'s' ?????????!?!?! He explained. (His whiteboard writing does not differentiate particularly between double and single quotes, so it looked like a line of single quotes.) I got a hug goodnight and headed out.

bluetooth drama )

I picked up a $5 pack of hex keys (including the vital 1/4" one) at Home Depot, as it was cheaper than the manufacturer's $7 single 1/4" hex key, and grabbed dinner on my way home.

Presented with overriding force in the person of someone mechanically turning the wedged-in-place blades, the garbage disposal whirred into action, and the ambient scent in my apartment improved notably. I shall sleep in peace.

Tidying continues. It may not reach a point that I'm actually comfortable with by Thursday, but it's already improved over yesterday, and there have been incremental improvements over the last few weeks.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
I've spent a lot of this week digging through my work inbox and strewing things all over busily and happily.

Wednesday was the emergency response team mass casualty incident drill. The idea is that you have more people hurt than you have responders. I signed up to be "hurt".

It turns out that I've missed acting. Read more... )

After an hour, the exercise concluded and we went back in for lunch and discussion. There were some guys from the county there, who reminded us that they treat it as a crime scene, especially if someone has died.

People were peeling off their makeup. I kept delightedly poking at mine. "You're going to wear that all day, aren't you," several people asked me. That was correct.

My team expressed their slight disappointment that it wasn't Halloween and therefore my fake injury wasn't a costume. They made it clear that they expect me to trump last year's loon head. I have an idea now.

Purple was doing other things for Thursday lunch. (I had been scheduled for a thing at the doctor's Thursday morning all morning, but Other Stuff Happened.) Therefore my team got custody of me. There was silliness, discussion of cheese and cheesemongers, and two mangoes. The Dogesitter had brought one very ripe one, and the designer who shares an office with the Hulk had brought a slightly less ripe one. We all had pieces of the ripest one, and it was sweet and tangy and delicious. Haystack tested to make sure that my Monty Python references were intact.

Purple wound up working super late Thursday evening. At the point when he gave in and decided that it was time for dinner-at-work, I decided to bail; he offered to walk me out. Whereupon I learned that his hair does not knot like mine does. I grumbled enviously. We swapped beauty tips.

This morning, [personal profile] norabombay pointed out the lack of a bedazzler in my life.

I am sure that Aunt-Manager will brief me on exactly what I need to do with her email, but this afternoon's major shenanigan set was attempting to walk her through granting delegate access and folder viewing permissions -- from OWA. (In our infinite jest, some of the Linux users of #cupcake have commenced calling the desktop versions OWA Thick Client for Windows and OWA Thick Client for Mac respectively.)

This evening, I was complaining to Purple about something, and he expressed sympathy and a helpful spirit in the best way he knew how. Since by this point I would trust him to pick a meandering eyelash out of my eye, I took it in the spirit intended as it clearly posed no threat. Read more... )


It was a long week, and I'm tired.
azurelunatic: "I've got A.D.D. and magic markers. Oh, the thrills I will have." Pile of uncapped bright markers.  (attention span)
New meds kicked in, in earnest, on Sunday. Friday night, I came back to work after usual dinner, and felt sharp and normal. Saturday I was a little more awake than usual (normally I sleep most of the day). Saturday night I saw something out of place, didn't ignore it, and put it away.

Sunday I tidied. I did not overdo it, but Things Look Somewhat Different, and I have a coherent plan for how I'm going to rearrange the apartment.

Today?

First was the appointment for the sleep study. I got parked and checked in, and got the form filled out, then I got shown the little gadget that I'll be wearing on my wrist tonight. It's the size of a 1970s futuristic smartwatch plugged into what looks like two fingers' worth of a Fukuoku 9000. I have every confidence that I will at some point bash it into my forehead. Fortunately, after I turn it on, it won't turn off.

The briefing was video, but when I said that video was my least effective learning method, the doctor did a live demo. She admired my hair, and I gave her a dye recommendation for her daughter, who is into colorful hair.

Then I went to work. I had been seeing emails between Researcher Haystack and the database vendor flying back and forth. This reassured me somewhat, as I'm not super comfortable in the guts of a Linux machine, and I've been extra-scattered and I'm adjusting back still.

Lunch was with Purple and a few of the guys. We talked about gun culture and rape culture, with a detour through AK-47 Guy land. It's sort of fun to derail a guy who is talking about AK-47s in the theoretical sense and ask him if he's ever been on the wrong side of one. (He hadn't. I had.) (It occurs to me that I am approaching having Aunt Nancy levels of shenanigans in my life, which does please me somewhat, even though many of the shenanigans are regrettable.)

After lunch, I swapped my chair out with the yoga ball.

lb dropped by after he'd gone on a milkshake run, and we chatted a bit.

When I saw the email (cc-ed to me) from Researcher Haystack to the Data Center Guy who sits behind me, asking if he knew anything about the backup situation for the database VM, I responded with an appropriate cat picture. Haystack emerged and asked me had I had anything important on that database. Nothing important, just tedious. I responded with the Tango Maureen, as is the custom of our people. (Purple, it may be noted, bounced hard off that one; he is not much of a fan of feckless artists in NYC.)

I demonstrated a modern blood glucose meter to the other emergency response team members on my team, so if they ever encounter a diabetic feeling woozy, they may feel more confident asking them if they'd like a little help doing a blood test.

I cleared through a number of things in my inbox. I found information about the little sleep study jobbie and showed Purple. Purple tried to tease me by making up plausible-sounding side effects; he wasn't expecting them to be quite plausible enough that I'd seem worried, which I did. He confessed to his sins, and we set about coming up with better side effects. Somehow in this conversation, I suggested "lesbian bed death" (on my mind because the Fukuoku 9000 is associated in my mind with Dykes to Watch Out For) and then I had to explain that.

In the parking lot, we started at e-ink tattoos and wandered through a world where you have to put the charger on your tattoo for a couple hours in order to reprogram it, a world where walking through the airport scanner will scramble your magnetic tattoo, that friend of his with transgenic fish DNA in her arm, and eventually winding up at mild body horror ).

The Knightmares world needs these tattoos.

I had already racked up an impressive amount of abdominal workout throughout the day, and I didn't seem to be getting tired. So I got some more when I got home, with the addition of techno. I was slowing down after a while, but at a certain point the numbers start to become influential, and you see if you can get a little more. And I could. Final count was 21,187, which is just over 3x my usual goal. Fortunately my abs have already seen a little work, or else I'd be in a bit of a pickle tomorrow.

Now I shall go shower, then get ready for bed, including the Wristwatch of Tomorrow. This is going to be interesting.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
azurelunatic: California poppies, with a bright blue sky and the sun. (California girl)
There's a love meme on, one of the self-nomination kinds that evades the third-person pronounery that I usually find so fraught in the nominate-others sorts. My thread: http://radioaches.dreamwidth.org/81108.html?thread=1190356#cmt1190356

Over last week the ant profusion at work was on the decline. I was cheered. I was still squishing them at a rate of about 4 per hour, but that was much better than previous.

Sadly, Polka-Dot Researcher has left the company; I'll miss her. She's been very sick for a while; she came back briefly with visible pain patches on her injured shoulder and then went back out again. I'm sure there's a story but I don't know much of it.

Rather a lot more of other things! )
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
Monday night involved more sleep than Sunday, but not entirely enough. The customer session on Tuesday was okay, albeit minus a person.

I got enough sleep on Tuesday night. It was glorious. There was a "farmer's market" at work on Wednesday. Like a real one, there was questionable music, too much sun, and not enough water. Nobody fell over.

I came in on I think Tuesday to a guy up on a ladder adjacent to the doors. He was disconnecting the power supply from the offending door, prior to actual repair.

I printed up a "Use other door" sign for both sides of the door.

It was good that I did, because Purple's friend from out of town sort of smacked into it noisily on the way in anyway.

Today I came in and the door seems to be fixed. Both sides are working and I haven't seen the other side being terrible.

Did I mention the radical transparency tale here? Because I had a really surreal conversation with someone on the fixit team for the helldesk. Apparently she likes working with me. This is good because I know I can be hard to work with if your product is terrible. Mostly I have a low tolerance for bullshit and I just want it to work. Also, the phrase "they hate it more than I do" is a telling one, and one that is getting impressed noises from co-workers.

Purple couldn't hang around chatting for too long tonight because he had some friends to go see. I am pleased: Purple is a social dude, and him having the energy to do such things is a good sign.

A periodic reminder to adult men in assorted professional fields: if she is old enough to have a shiny new college degree and a shiny new job here, she is a woman unless she tells you otherwise. In formal contexts like a presentation to co-workers in which you are encouraging diversity in a group you'd like to work with, "women" is the word you want, not "girls". That's the high school mentorship group down the hall and to your left.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
(this started life as a comment on Captain Awkward, but may have gone to moderation because I included a link. However, I felt I should keep a copy here too...)

- Ask for both dietary requirements/restrictions and preferences. You can't always please everybody, but asking for preferences as well increases the odds that you'll be able to delight them on purpose.
- Asking for preferences does mean that the guy who likes to eat nearly an entire cow as rare as possible will tell you about it. You will also hear from people who wouldn't have otherwise felt comfortable sharing their strong aversions, non-life-threatening medical issues, and other awkward food stuff. Those are the people you're asking this question to make life easier for.
- Take people at their word. Don't badger them for details. If you need to ask clarifying questions, be respectful. "Can't you just pick them out" is not respectful.
- Don't take any requirement, restriction, or preference personally.
- Ask for dietary requirements/preferences ahead of time and keep them on file, so if there's a last-minute thing you can order with reasonable confidence.
- Ask for dietary requirements/preferences fairly shortly before finalizing each order, with a deadline, so people know when they have to get their information to you.
- Cross-check and update your file every time someone gives you new information. Stuff changes all the time -- new diagnosis, new medicine interaction, change in tastes, burned out on that thing after having it for 5 straight years in grad school.
- Treat the dietary requirements/preferences as somewhat confidential information unless you learn otherwise.
- Prepare a high-level summary of your team's dietary needs that you can give to catering. This protects your team's privacy (the catering crew doesn't generally need to know by name who goes with what preference) and makes things easier on the caterers who honestly probably don't care as long as nobody's getting something they shouldn't have. For example: group of 40, 30% vegetarian, 3 gluten-free omnivores, 1 lactose-intolerant omnivore, 2 shellfish allergies, 1 tree nut allergy (peanuts ok).
- Not everyone is going to want to eat the same thing. That's OK. Not everyone has to eat the same thing! If the group is large enough, you can order smaller amounts of a larger variety of things.
- Be on the alert for intersecting requirements. If the same person is dairy intolerant and gluten intolerant, it does them no good if all the gluten-free dishes have dairy and all the dairy-free dishes have gluten. The plight of the mushroom-allergic vegan is a sad one. I address this with a spreadsheet and a lot of swearing.
- Be on the alert for requirements that can be collapsed together. The main dish which will serve the uncomplicated vegan will also serve the person with lactose intolerance who can't have pork. I also address this with the spreadsheet.
- My spreadsheet is a matrix of people going down, and dietary restrictions going across. I like conditional formatting that highlights red and green to help me visualize. I also have a separate text document with their original phrasing because sometimes that's important. (Sometimes this is when I find I need to ask clarifying questions, such as if someone said "vegan, nut allergy" and the caterer is proposing coconut in the vegan stir-fry, does that nut allergy include coconut?)
- I assume that at least another 10% of people will like the look of the vegetarian entree than who are vegetarian as a restriction. When my group is 20% vegetarian I order for 30% vegetarian.
- Throw yourself on the caterer's mercy if that's a practical option. I tend to give them the restrictions summary and order "chef's special" which results in cost-effective, seasonal dishes which meet the requirements and surprise my team who are used to cafeteria food (plus) although it's a surprise what they're going to be (minus).
- Demand ingredients labels as a matter of course, with special attention for the dietary requirements in your summary. The mashed potatoes might be: Potatoes, olive oil, salt. VEGAN, GLUTEN-FREE
- My workplace cafeteria is so fucking sick of hearing "the stir fry has bell peppers and the menu doesn't say that it had bell peppers in it", but someday the fuckers will learn that they've got to list all their nightshades.
- Prepare a contingency plan for what to do if the catering falls through or somebody can't eat what's there.
- The best $REQUIREMENT-compliant dishes are not the ones that have a substandard substitution for the forbidden ingredient, but ones which were never intended to have any in the first place.
- I have been using http://captainawkward.com/2013/05/15/479-trying-to-be-more-social-when-you-have-serious-dietary-restrictions/#comment-53962 as a guideline on diversifying the menu for a while.

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