azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
Friday was the usual dinner out with Purple and Ms. Antisocialest Butterfly. I had no idea where I wanted to go, just that it shouldn't be too far. Purple picked a place not too far from old-work.

The timing worked out such that when it was time to actually leave, there was a conversation that I was in the middle of that I didn't want to just bail on. But the other party to the conversation was aware of my schedule, and adamant that I should not miss dinner on their account.

We wound up talking on the phone. It was a good conversation, running the full course from the usual sort of daily grievances we discuss, to the sublimely silly. By the time I hit the parking lot (and got pinned in the car for a few minutes as the van next to me loaded up their kids) I was giggling again, and went in to see Purple with a silly smile.

I was a little spacey through dinner, partly as the result of nice conversation, and partly because I was still just very tired and quiet and didn't have very many things to say about Game of Thrones.

Purple and I chatted in the parking lot, as is the custom. I headdesked at him some. He was encouraging, and just enough of a sarcastic bastard.

Sunday was the birthday, I believe the 30th, of one of the guys from the ghost team. Most of them are based in and around Palo Alto, so many of their dinner meetups are on a half-hour's notice, which is not quite enough time for me to get from schlubbing around the house to out the door, let alone from Pacifica to Palo Alto.

This time, there was early notice, so I found something comfortable and set out at the appointed time. It was a place I hadn't been before. The tiny parking lot was overfilled, and there was nowhere to go but back out onto the main drag; you couldn't go on the back street and circle around. So I found street parking, and jaywalked over just in time to encounter four of the other five of us who were coming.

Three of them are roommates, which can often be entertaining. 2/3 of the table was playing Pokémon Go. Mr. P and I were the holdouts.

One of the themes of the night was scallops. The guys enjoy their seafood. They also enjoy their steak. One of the guys had been debating whether it would be scallops or dessert. "Scallop cheesecake!" I contributed, cheerfully.

The concept was not well-received.

One of the guys is apparently notorious amongst the crew for eating at approximately the same rate as Zeno said that Achilles chased the tortoise. Except he would have started off as the tortoise. This had the effect of slightly delaying dessert for everyone else. By the time he was in fact ready to order, all of the good-natured chirping from the table caused him to say "Cheesesteak" instead of "cheesecake". Hilarity was the order of the moment.

I ... may have a mild crush on Mr. P. He is a very quiet geekfolk who appears amiable and with a wicked sense of humor when he has something to say.

I got to talk with Dawn on the drive home from that dinner. It was good to catch up with her. I had a few things to say about a situation that one of my friends is in. They were ... not especially good things. It was good to have that conversation, too.

Neither Purple nor I were quite feeling the dinner thing Monday, so we decided to retry on Tuesday.
azurelunatic: Blue-iced cupcake with sprinkles.  (cupcake)
Dreams which are Just Not Fair, Yo:
Read more... )
Waking up out of that is not fair.

Thursday night's dinner was at a place I'd not been before, but immediately decided should be added to our dinner rotation. I shared with Purple, who was in accordance, but also doubted how much parking there'd be on a Friday night. I think perhaps we'll try it some early weeknight.

It was beer & shenanigans night, so I went down to hang out with some of the crew. R saw me first, and wandered over to say hi. She has a set of headphones similar to mine now -- she saw mine and decided they were amazingly cool (I have my doubts about the headphones but they're handy) so she got some. Hers are blue too. Purple arrived, and then Mr. Tux. Purple was late because he was saying goodbye to Mr. Netflix, who is headed off somewhere. (Perhaps he and J will be co-workers soonish?)

I saw W walking off towards the gym with her iPod and gym bag, and waved. She came over to the fire pit to say hello; we cheerfully continued our conversation about that brief window of time in 2010 when it was possible to get near-complete access to someone's LJ account using this one weird trick, and why internal documentation is super important.

I saw the Singing PM wander past, and hailed her. She met Mr. Tux, who is on the other side of the atrium in the same building as she is.

Eventually I happened to glance over at the right moment and saw the retreating ponytail of lb. I hollered after him, and he wandered over to say hello and spend some time chatting. There was various hilarity.

Read more... )
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
So after getting back from the family shenanigans, I have been living a fairly quiet existence, interspersed with a certain amount of human contact.

I have a conference-running gig right now, which is taking up a substantial amount of my time. It's keeping me busy and contributing to my general well-being (i.e. it's not volunteer, though it's below my pro rates).

Wednesday evening, I inquired of a certain engineer whether he was up for dinner-and-human-contact, which he was. Wednesdays might be becoming a new tradition. Choice of dinner venue is always an interesting debate; this time he was in charge due to root canal recovery. It turns out that even when you take the Lunatic out of the shop, you do not take the shop talk out of the Lunatic.

One of the minor bits of amusement that ensued was thanks to StPatience. She's a friend from #adventuresofstnono, and is also about on Twitter. She saw a tweet about the possibly forming new tradition of Wednesday night dinner (why yes! I would be delighted to have dinner with you next week!) and interpreted it ... hilariously differently. She hadn't connected the Purple who I was clearly rather fond of, with the [wallet name derivative] she knew from #adventuresofstnono, and this led to some interesting assumptions. I clarified. We found the entire thing hilarious.

Friday was rather rainy. I appreciate that in the weather, though it would be good if there wasn't wind damage or flooding. It was also beer bash down at Virtual Hammer, which would not have been sufficient enticement to head down thattaway, but my favorite ghosts had a bit of a game night planned. (It being first Friday, Purple was otherwise occupied, or there'd have been dinner as well.)

Purple called while I was on my way down, to let me know where beer bash was being held (not in the usual place). I was glad to know that! I parked accordingly, and no sooner had I scaled the steps (stairs are a little more of an option now! yay knees!) than my old team spotted me and proceeded to glomp me with enthusiasm. It was Researcher Sweatervest's last day! It was good to see those of the team that I saw. I was waylaid and glomped by the Dean as well.

I had a bit of trouble locating Purple (unusual for me) but finally did, thanks to the wonders of mobile telephony and his distinctive hair. We grabbed food and a table. Acidhelm spotted us and joined us, which is always fun.

The Dean is pretty well convinced that one of the reasons he is in HR is so that they can keep an eye on him. It's good to be amongst the few that he can let his metaphorical hair down around!

I had not realized that when the ghost crew said that the games were "in [certain dude]'s office", what they meant was an entirely different company and office building. Acidhelm and I exchanged numbers and he gave me the address, that I might find the place and be let in, if I opted for game night.

The woe hit me pretty hard as Purple and I took the access road back in the direction of the central garage, and he petted me reassuringly for a while. We made terrible jokes at each other, including the concept of UL rated "dance clubs" -- bonky items made for dancing. It's harder to get them safety rated with an approval for indoors.

I was eventually feeling human enough to talk myself into wandering down in the direction of [certain dude]'s office, knowing that once I got there, I'd most likely feel obligated to join games.

And join games I did, albeit with a detour for bubble tea and the latest Price-Healy novel. The game of the evening was Roll for the Galaxy, and great fun was had.

One of the small traditions that's also forming is inquiries after weekend time. Purple's Saturday plans involved setting up his new NAS (again), and watching TV. After putting in some work on conference stuff, I headed down thattaway in some pretty vigorous precipitation. I got introduced to the new big chunk of storage, I watched as he updated some of his music gear, and then we settled in for Shaun of the Dead (fun). There was a dinner run, then we sat back down with the first episode of Drawn Together (DO NOT WANT), an episode of Elementary (it was burning a hole in his DVR, and I enjoyed it), and some Arrested Development (always fun).
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
Over lunch this week, the engineer from the Ukraine allowed as how knowing that software in general was developed by careless jerks just like him made him less confident in things like self-driving cars. "And how about planes?" (He is a pilot.) "They let just any asshole fly!" he said, or words to that effect.

This whole week has felt off-balance. The ice storm that hit the East Coast this past weekend delayed the processing of my car insurance payment, so while I had in fact paid twice (once manually, once automatically) neither had actually gone all the way through the computers due to things having been shut down.

A brief digression about computer rooms! (This is all simplified, though I know a chunk of my people know more about them than I do; anyone who knows more can leave helpful clarifications if they wish.) You might think that these days, computers are magical creatures that can stay up through all manner of physical insult, and you might be partly right! You can do amazing things to computers compared to what used to take them down, but there are a lot of moving parts behind that uptime.

First, modern management tools allow the people running the computers to switch which physical computer is doing the work, very very quickly across long distances. Read more... )

A lot of modern computer stuff happens in shiny modern data centers with fancy uptime promises, and the ability to automatically fail over to remote sites if something happens to the main site. Those are very shiny and new. The world of finance is ... not always on the bleeding edge of technology. They may have some somewhat older stuff. Plus, ice storms are serious business, and if you know it's a matter of time before the power goes out and you're not confident that the generators will hold out, and if the person responsible for making sure the machines stay up is snowed in at home ... maybe it just makes more sense to shut everything down gracefully for the long weekend, so even when the power goes out it won't matter. Then they can bring it back up once they get back in the office, and stuff won't be screwed up, even if it's late.

The customer service agent told me that everything was shut down on account of weather, so I very quickly saw why taking computer systems down would be a sensible move. I confirmed that my policy was active so I could legally drive to work. Yay people being sensible even when the computer is not cooperating.

Purple was not around for lunch this week much -- one day there was a leaving thing on his team, one day he was working from home with the sniffles, another day he had another offsite lunch, and then I had a leaving thing for someone on my team (Sparkles).

It's been the kind of week where people need walks.

Wednesday afternoon I got an email from a person at a company. We called and set up an in-person meeting for the following evening. That turned out to be a five-person interview; I realized that I actually missed the rush of uptime problems.

Other writers out there -- if you're ever beta-read or edited, you get to claim writing as an exercise in collaboration, if you're hard-pressed for an example while interviewing. I really ought to have pointed out the sit-down that lb and I had over a potential question that I was going to ask at a meeting, where we condensed from a large chunk of text to a few lines with bullet points. Writing for a goal means the occasional "I think the way you originally had it doesn't work" with optional "here's why" and "here's what I think you should do instead". lb at more than one point apologized and told me that he didn't want to trample all over what I was trying to say; I pointed out that this wasn't an exercise in my artistic employment of language, this was a text with a very specific goal and two very specific audiences. Therefore my ego about my original draft was irrelevant, and we only had an hour. We got it down to two post-its, eventually.

Friday was the aforementioned goodbye lunch for Sparkles. I was sitting next to the newest person. He quietly asked me if I could help him with the names of the people at the other end of the table. I confirmed the first one, but the second two people were people I interact with a lot less, and naturally their names weren't retrieving through my face. (I possibly could have typed their email addresses, and thereby come up with names, but there was no computer; I was stuck with face-based meat noises.) I apologized for the difficulty. He apologized for it as well, mentioning that he was bad with names. "And I'm moderately faceblind," I allowed.

The new guy lit up. "Oh, so you know exactly where I'm coming from; me too," he said. So we compared notes. If I have time, I may make him a book of flash cards.

Friday was also the day that the department that had suffered the intercision decided to meet for drinks at a local watering hole. I had been included in the invitation, and thought it important to show the colors (mostly blue). So I went, and after a little parking angst, found myself a place against the wall with a cider. I chatted and commiserated and reminisced and even may have uttered some language. One of the remote folks tried to join in via Facetime, but it was noisy and the connection was unreliable. There was some jocularity about one of them there newfangled presence robots, and how one might attempt to jury-rig same via hoverboard, broomstick, and iPad (someone objected as she did not want her iPad to go on fire), and then there was talk of remote control cars and the like.

There was standing around and talking outside. At a reasonable hour, I called Purple to see about dinner; he didn't pick up and I reckoned it was early yet and didn't leave a message. I tried again a half-hour later, and left a message. All told, at the two hour mark I was waiting patiently in the restaurant while getting the odd sympathetic glance from the intercised department (the nuances between "got stood up" and "the rest of the party is 25 minutes late" are mostly dependent on texting) and then there was dinner. Dinner was good. No standing around chatting this time, due to rain.

Various denizens of #cupcake decided that it would be a good idea to meet up socially. R decided that Saturday lunch at her house would be perfect. We had lunch and everyone except lb's girlfriend complained about work. (Sorry, lb's girlfriend!) Then we played cards (Purple had brought his deck) and there was hilarity; lb won and Purple and I had the same score. Every now and then Purple would fall over backwards laughing. Once someone played something meanish and Purple was sure it had been me; it had in fact been R.

Purple and I hung around chatting with R on our way out the door for "just a few minutes"; it was not just a few minutes. However, the moment that R and I started to sound like we were having a conference business meeting, Purple excused himself, gave me a hug, and scrammed. Heh.

A spider inside the "No Soliciting" sign is a nice touch. R needs to (quite literally) debug one of her little technology projects, as the spiders got inside that too.

As a result of the conversation, I started to contemplate a world in which StPatience runs a foundation for women in technology, with me as the administrative person and Nora running a lot of the people side. It's an interesting thought experiment.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
  • Sat, 02:19: Went and had a cider and chat with my unofficial second team. I feel honored to have been invited to share.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
azurelunatic: "Are you challenging my ingenuity?"  (ingenuity)
My priorities at work are: get the participant database in reasonable working order (including the yelling at vendors), and get the process for the yearly conference in as well-documented order as I can get it.

There has been database WTF-ery. The response from the vendor is sort of shaped like "yes Reverend thank you Reverend" as I tell them that this is unexpected and not in the good way. Purple is amused.

I'm starting to apply places, and collecting my references and paperworks.

More people continue to find out and/or ask me about the status of the contractor deadline. I feel somewhat socially obligated to put a good face on it, at least to people who aren't #VirtualH, #dreamwidth, #cupcake, #adventuresofstnono, or closer. This results in scenarios like:

ajl: I've heard vague rumors to the effect that people are talking about getting us a paid Slack, but only rumors. In the future, you should probably ask [R&D IT Flashlight Guy] about that, he might be best placed to know.
MrBlueHair: Wait, "in the future" ARE YOU LEAVING US
ajl: Well, there's that contractor policy, and my team wasn't able to get me converted to full time before the deadline, barring a miracle.
MrBlueHair: ... !!! D:
ajl: :( :( :(


R2, the guy on my team not my else-team friend: Well, I'm headed to India to get married, see you when I get back!
AzureJ: Congratulations, and it's been a pleasure working with you.
R2: Oh, I'm coming back! At the end of February!
AzureJ: When in February?
R2: The end ... omg, you won't ... ? Where are you ... ?
AzureJ: The 16th. I don't know yet.
R2: Oh. It's been good working with you too. :(

When that happens, I tend to IM Purple with the gist of the conversation and try to not let it go from tears leaking out my eyes to actual audible sobbing. He says that long notice in situations like this is kind of torture. I'm inclined to agree, though I also appreciate it so I can prepare.

One of the things helping me keep it together is the way that I know I am cared-for and well-regarded, on my team and off, and especially amongst #VirtualH and #cupcake. Purple hugs me goodnight, shoulder-bumps me, occasionally pets my arm, and lets me take shelter next to him. I keep rediscovering that undemanding sustained physical contact with folks who don't set off my alarm bells is a thing that does me great amounts of good. (Even while the same amount of proximity to people *not* cleared for unmonitored access to my blind spots would leave me worse off.) Mr. Zune has joined #adventuresofstnono, which goes a long way towards keeping the people I cherish most from #cupcake in places I will see them regularly. (We have yet to coax radius in there.)

Recently, #adventuresofstnono have been talking about the reverse of popular internet emotional signifiers. What is the opposite of LOL? Throwing up? Crying inside? The simple D: ? This inevitably led to 8===D and its opposite, 8===D: the aghast ascii penis.

I have Scrivener set up, and have embarked upon a project which is intended to be a tropey tropey paper bag which may contain a magician's bird of definite fjord-pining status, and might also possibly -- well. So the other day on Twitter...

Naturally I hunted down the reference (like a good fishmum) and while the story was sweet and hot and I was happy to have spent a fancy coffee's worth on it, the writing quality was not what I'm accustomed to. In fact...

"I can write better than that," I groused to myself. "In fact, I've half a mind to..."

[personal profile] norabombay and [personal profile] sithjawa promptly started incorriging me.

I now have:
* working title (terrible, terrible pun)
* a possibly viable pen name
* a main pairing, several supporting couples, and some names
* a terribly on the nose pen name for the bad fanfic written by a supporting couple
* tons of incorrigement
Pray for me.
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)
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?"
"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: Escher's Order and Chaos drawing: geometric solids and broken things.  (Order and Chaos)
12:13 PM * Azz ambles in a Silly Valley-ward direction
12:25 PM <Purple> hope Azz isn't going to work

Azz was, in fact, going to work. Partly because a conference week is not the world's most bountiful paycheck week (and therefore a four-day week the next week isn't the best choice) and partly because work has air conditioning.

I proceeded to turn on my disco lights and blast* Abney Park while catching up on the paperwork that drives my normal uncanny ability to remember arbitrary weird things.

* for values of "blast" that became nearly inaudible once you reached the bathrooms.

radius was also at work enjoying the air conditioning, as I learned once I checked in on IRC. He'd gone down to Curmudgeon* City to hack on some fun stuff, since it was a weekend.

* They're not jerks per se, but their group's team chat has an honorable history of being displayed in the team area using Microsoft Comic Chat.

The security guy came through and poked at the door, which was unlocking itself, accompanied by irritated beeping when you tried to lock it, again. He was seen on the phone, with some gesticulation. He went away. He returned with a buddy. They both poked at the door, which was no longer doing the thing. They went away.

Eventually it became closer to evening. radius and I made plans for dinner. Sensibly, he proposed that I drive us both, rather than having him go separately on his bike, as bike and dinner dress codes often differ. I was agreeable, but added that I would have to unearth the front seat of the car.

"I can sit on it," he demurred, not having seen what was in the seat.

"No, you cannot," I said, and proceeded to shuffle an amazing number of things out of my front seat: one of those fabric boxes that goes in the big IKEA cube shelves (filled with all manner of road trip snacks and less edible items such as alcohol wipes), any number of soft drink cups, cans, and bottles, a few used napkins, the empty container of blueberries that figured so prominently in Sunday's digestive misadventures*, a box of tampons, several cherry pits, an expended alcohol wipe, a household size fire extinguisher, and about five blueberries that had fallen down behind the snack box. The fire extinguisher wasn't exactly a surprise, because I knew it was there, but I'd sort of glossed over it in my mental accounting, which was mostly "all god's soda cans". radius helped by relaying a few trips to the bins. Mostly the fire extinguisher is in the car because you don't want a car to do something terrible without you have a fire extinguisher; not that I'm expecting him to do something terrible, but it would be just like a car to go ahead and do something like that if you didn't have one handy. So.

* 2 pounds of blueberries eaten over the course of about 11 hours of Saturday without actual solid food? after 2pm-ish? Not my best life choice.

We then went for dinner and gossip. I introduced him to the Book of Wholesome Hobbies. It's starting to get unwieldy, and I may have to start categorizing. There are an awful lot of prohibitions based on fire.

Eventually we traipsed back to work. I spent some more time whacking chunks of text around. The door started doing the thing again, of course when the other security guard wasn't looking. The first guy seemed frustrated. After he left, I went and poked at it myself. I went outside and badged the door, but didn't open it. The unlock window timed out, and the master door locked itself. Somewhat hesitantly, the problem door followed suit. So I may have figured out how to make it stop doing the thing. Next I need to figure out how to make it do the thing on command.

My notes are in better shape. Hooray!

My plans for tomorrow are approximately:

* Make ice.
* Fetch strawberries.
* Wait for evening to set in.
* Take ice, strawberries, liquid, and a lawn chair down the waterfront and set up.
* Watch other people let off fireworks.
* Share strawberries as appropriate.
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
21:05 Saturday, 03 January, 2015
Got car oiled & smogged.


Called Darkside. We have both now seen the Into the Woods movie. We spent quite some time thinking up hilarious stunt casting. The best one was Nathan Fillion and John Barrowman as Princes.

I've been reading through my 2014 entries, and will eventually post some sort of wrap-up.

01:43 Tuesday, 06 January, 2015
Sunday night/Monday morning early was kind of dreadful. Read more... )

I felt a bit lagged at work, but nonetheless got some things done. I went to lunch a bit later than usual, because Purple was logged out on IM and hadn't emailed back when I pinged him for lunch. He was at the table with the guys when I came in (having looked up from work to realize that it was time to wander over regardless); he found the text he'd tried to send me in his outbox, having not sent.

Turns out he'd come in to find that his computer's hard drive had died. So off he went to find one of the desktop techs...

When I headed back in, I saw the Lizard Prince (who is still a helpdesk tech off in Executive Land, which is now up on the hill instead of one building over) waiting for the shuttle, and headed out to chat with a handful of candy. It turns out that building-helpdesk is at 50% or worse between vacation and sick leave (and sick kids and hurt pets and breaking the *other* leg tripping over the dog, and so forth). Which would prove to inform a lot of Purple's day...

Conference planning is proceeding what I can only conclude is apace. The Commandant has unlocked the committee email address (fucking helldesk tool is involved) and there is a committee starting to gather/be voluntold.

lb snagged me for a milkshake run, having missed Purple (in what would prove to be a Saga later) and we talked various things, including shop. The Godwin-denying fellow went to a meeting which involved various people including the current buck-holder, and got an update which he variously flakily relayed. I have also been hearing things which I used to corroborate that tale in slightly more coherent ways.

The one dude got his sawed-off pool noodle and his phone fixed, yay!

Fishie slipped on some ice and tweaked both knees; she's feeling much better now but is under fishmum's instructions to continue taking it easy. Her winter break job seems to involve a decent amount of Being A Warm Body. After the first day, she is sort of wondering How Grown-Ups Even Live. She has also been learning to shop for groceries to feed herself, how to estimate what she'll need in the way of groceries, and many other prime Adulting skills.

Purple may have managed to forget his badge at home today, so I let him in and then gathered up my stuff.

He had a sort of terrible computer day, with one thirty-minute fix chaining into the next, with bonus time searching for an actual helpdesk person in the office and on duty. First, his hard drive died. Then, the power supply. And the fan's rubber shock mounts had basically crumbled away into nothing, so it was rattling about terribly, and had to be replaced. And one would think that helpdesk has the tools for various jobs, but in point of fact the screwdriver was not the right shape... I offered a pointer towards my own toolbox, and next time he'll know where to look. Helpdesk did get one from Facilities or something, however.

Since it had been a while, we did spend some time out in the parking lot chatting. That is always nice, even if this time it was a bit chilly.

This weekend I gave radius my contact info, and let him know that occasionally there were #cupcake-and-friends dinner events. He gave me his personal email domain, and instructions to be creative (it's got a catchall address). I appreciated his endeavor, and figured that "vuvuzelalullabye" was a reasonable starting point as a response.

Purple and the Other Guy were plotting maybe something this week for a #cupcake-and-friends outing. (The Other Guy is "and friends" often enough, as he Does Not IRC.)

There was that time that the Army was trying to recruit my sister. Tay had just been talking about her desired career plans, so when I picked up the phone and it was a recruiter, I had some answers. "No, she's a pacifist."
Recruiter: "We have plenty of jobs that don't involve killing people! What does she want to do?"
Azzlet: "She wants to be an itenerant minstrel."
Recruiter: "We ... have a band?"
Azzlet: "No, thank you." *click*

Purple's dad once managed to get himself into some trouble that it took some doing to get out of: during the height of the McCarthyist red scare, you don't go on a rant about how the US Army is the closest thing to proper Communism that the US has, when the Army asks you if you happen to know any Communists. (The Army was not super amused.)

I began to lose my balance somewhere into the second hour of chatting, and Purple very kindly escorted me over to my own car. It wasn't that I was exactly losing my balance in that I was falling over and needed to be propped up, it was that the direction of "up" had begun to be a bit ambiguous, and Purple was a helpful guide in the proper direction.

Once home, I had a few things left to do. I fired up the tv, and re-prioritized my tivo queue a little. Agent Carter. No more HIMYM. That's a lot of Mythbusters repeats. Etc. Since it was also mentioned, I decided to see whether Galavant was something I wanted to see more of.

In which I explain to sithjawa my feelings )

So yes, I think I shall see more of this.

It was laundry night.

I also got a facelaser, upon recommendation from a friend. (I have pale skin and dark hair. This makes me an excellent candidate for laser hair removal.) We shall see how effective it is on me. So far, I have tried on the lowest setting. I have also decided that the recommended numbing cream is possibly a more unpleasant sensation than the zapping.

Gender-feels. )
azurelunatic: A glittery black pin badge with a blue holographic star in the middle. (Default)
There were leftover cupcakes from the party. I brought them in to share.

Meeting shenanigans. 11am meeting was postponed, then canceled. Tomorrow, perhaps.

Lunch outside with Purple and the abbreviated crew, with chatter about the evils of Comcast and its wifi, and modem choices. The John Wayne joke, and how it does not work over the phone. My knee started acting up on my way back from lunch. Alas.

I learned the secret identity of the magnificent bastard troll behind the "GULLIBLE" signs. I am pleased.

A side effect of sharing your journal with #cupcake is #cupcake reading your journal. Heh.

Researcher Sweatervest got his renewed visa and is back. He is not used to the cold anymore, and it is below freezing in his part of China.

The Randomizer is packing his office. I had a thumb drive, which he has loaded for my manager. He came by again, shook my hand, and told me that I have been consistently awesome these nearly three years. I successfully didn't let my eyes fully overflow. (Another friend advised that their department regards me as the Wonder Admin, because I know many things about getting things done, plus doing battle with the evil tech of the week.)

My list of helpdesk tickets is very long. Today I hunted for some of the ones which never got touched to illustrate the point of the Stage Manager. Exhausting and brain-numbing.

The quiet room in the old building is still a quiet and dim cavern for prayer and napping. I took refuge. Purple envies my ability to nap. I came back refreshed.

Purple called it early on account of brain. He likes red velvet cupcakes because it's chocolate but doesn't get chocolate frosting, so it's not being troutslapped with chocolate.

My knee went out again on the walk through the parking lot. I clenched my fists and made it to my car, then leaned against it after putting down my backpack. (This was the day I parked right next to him.) Purple made a little sympathetic noise and gently hugged me.

"Fucking bodies," I said.

That started a really weird digression of dick jokes )

There was an opportunity to knock on wood. I knocked on my head. Purple tried knocking on his, but it was hollow. I leaned over to allow him to knock on mine.

I used to hate writing by hand as viciously as I hate the helldesk software now. That faded after I started a journal. I used to write more, when I was more scared of memory loss and wanted to be able to recover from backup. Purple suggested that my sister could have exploited my fear of memory loss and the journal by inserting fake sections I would have had no memory of. Evil! :D

Refueled Vash. Brought home tasty chicken, and fried up more potato wedges with sauerkraut and homemade pickles. Nom.


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