Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
azurelunatic: The Space Needle by night. Slightly dubious photography. (Default)
Physics and I are on a break until I forgive them for ejecting the egg carton from the refrigerator door.

Whereupon I called for assistance, Alex unloaded the fridge, Silver picked up egg with a series of implements and ointments, and I put away dishes so the sink could become useful and otherwise tried to stay out of the way.
azurelunatic: The Space Needle by night. Slightly dubious photography. (Default)
Belovedest made tater tots last night, and we all had some (except the cats). They added some of the cooked ground beef and some cheese, and said something about stretching the definition of salad.

This was clearly (to me, anyway) in the same spirit of shitposting about the definition of sandwiches. So I considered my rules. "If it doesn't have anything that looks like it's photosynthesized recently, it's nachos," I declared.

This was accepted. Though I think the thing that makes it a nacho is the melted cheese. (By which definition, a staple of my childhood was rice nachos.)
azurelunatic: Cover of O'Reilly's Owl Book. O RLY?  (O RLY)
Weekend!

Saturday, I drove down to Sunnyvale and toured an apartment complex. I liked it. We'll see if/when my raise comes through. (Purple says that on this one, I'm a dude.)

Vash gave me a bit of trouble on the way back, so I should see about getting him checked out.

So on Saturday, everybody got a note through the door that "investor inspections" were imminent. So much of the rest of my long weekend was either housework, or fervently ignoring housework. I am not Actively Displeased with the current state of the apartment, however I am not Pleased either. The packing has been making this easier, and I suppose the cleaning has helped the packing.

Tuesday:
Got a message from the Commandant that she was out sick, and I should take point on this morning's meeting. Okay! So I did some last laundry-roundup and vacuuming, and went off to work in good time to walk up to the secret milkshake bunker, saying hi to Purple on my way as he was coming in. He was in search of Beldorion. I thought I vaguely knew where he sat, but I was at the wrong end of the wrong floor of the wrong building. (Purple was able to find him okay, though.) The heavy equipment I'd seen at the end of the parking lot turned out to be unloading a whole bunch of trees; they looked like small redwoods in large wooden planters.

The Dean is ringleading the playing of a cricket tournament on the big screen. It turns out that none of the cable networks that we get seem to be running it, but there's an online thing. Some of the guys waxed enthusiastic. Yay for them.

The meeting went well! We have a better idea of what we're looking for this year, and some of last year's cracktastic experiments won't be repeated. I mentioned some of the constraints, like gluten-free, and that cut out Hawaiian as a theme, as all their soy sauce has lurking wheat. Partway through the meeting, the lady from catering spluttered and pointed out the window. For all the world like a tall ship under full sail, the top half of a redwood cruised by smoothly. For a brief fantastic moment I thought: Wow, it must be windy out today. Then, as the forklift emerged from behind the wall, the absurdity of the thought struck me. Another two redwoods followed it, to our collective giggles. We called our attention back to the task at hand, and got into logistics and table rental. We shall inquire to see whether there are cafe tables which can be pulled from storage before we see about rentals. From around the corner coming the other direction scuttled one of those same redwoods, beating a hasty retreat from who knows what ent-eater.

On the way back, I wound up telling Madam Standards about the time Shawn tried to make mac-and-cheese.

Purple sent out the lunch ping. Just then, one of the engineers who had through main force of will not screamed about the helldesk software on the You Must Be At Least This High In The Org Chart For This Ride field trip, had a question about how one shipped things. I had answers! I wound up creating a shipping ticket for him, and he jumped through the hoops to get his own login, as he sees himself shipping in the future. This did render me a bit on the late side to lunch, but that was all right.

Mr. Zune: "Is someone else about to be introduced to the Sticky Box?"

I left the shipping ticket on top of the Sticky Box for the engineer to find if he came back before I did.

My choice of food includes prep/waiting time as well as content, so it was the wok for me, even though that would result in picking out hot and cold peppers. There was a seat next to Purple, which I happily claimed. I grumbled about the housecleaning and apartment search some. I had a fantastic headache by that time. Purple told tales of one apartment he'd moved out of, where the place was going to be demolished after he left. The guys had told him he could "have fun", but he'd been too exhausted from moving to do anything entertaining like write on the wall in something that looked like human blood. Somehow this resulted in escalating jokes, with a live goat tethered (with food and water) in the middle of a salt pentagram ("Oh, I would have thought the sacrifice would have been accepted by now!"). Purple joked about using glitter in spells, and I started giggling. That made my head pound. "Oh god, I shouldn't be laughing," I said. Purple patted me on the back and allowed how he possibly shouldn't have been joking about that either. "No no, it's that I have a headache," I wheezed. Then I told him about a certain infamous writer of spellbooks who suggested glitter as a substitute for candles. Not to represent fire, but as a focus object. "So that's why you have a disco ball!" he declared. I mentioned that I might have possibly unnerved people in the past with the giant Christmas light pentagram on my ceiling in college. Heh.

The engineer had picked up the shipping ticket by the time I got back, and mentioned that my cube is certainly unique.

Lunch and lack of sleep and stress and dehydration seem to have been the headache, because post-lunch, caffeine, hydration, and giggles put me pretty much right.

Mid-afternoon, I looked out the window at just the right moment and saw two heads, one golden and one dark-with-a-bald-patch, walking past. It was clearly lb and Purple, going in the general direction of the milkshake bunker, walking fast. I had a quiet Moment -- a pang of left-out, and a swell of happiness that they were getting friend-time that they clearly needed to have. The happiness won, but not without a little bittersweet thread. But I don't have to be part of everything. In fact, I probably have more than my fair share of Purple's time. I can't begrudge another of his good friends some alone-time, in context of that.

Lennon Glasses Guy showed up for the speakers just as I was heading into my research meeting. I directed him where to find it: loon head, fridge, right next to the fridge. In the research meeting, Researcher Carmageddon picked my brain about things we'd like to know that I collected as a matter of course when they came up. They will come up with a list and cross-check. It is the time of year that Researcher Sweatervest has become chilly again, so he was wearing one of his namesake sweatervests. This one looked nicer, and new. Polka-Dot is out sick, and Haystack seems to be out of state due to a death in the family, but had called in.

In conference-driven development news, the Dreamwidth development activity makes me happy, and sometime when my hair is not trying to catch figurative fire I need to sit down and go through code tours looking for docs bugs.

Things in the helldesk software keep getting fixed from time to time. Apparently broken attachments had been un-broken. I cruised into the quiet room to assess the state of the stain, which was non-crusty, probably a drink spill. Then I went into my own building's relaxation room, took a picture of the sad little room with its foosball table, and emailed in a ticket suggesting that if an unloved but unbroken couch could be found in storage, this would make the room a little less sad -- both answering an actual need and testing the attachment situation, which seems indeed to have been remedied. (Trust, but verify.)

In clearing through my inbox, I paused and actually read one of the [off-topic] posts that I'd skimmed earlier in the day, and then paused again.

#cupcake
ajl: from [off-topic], regarding a cricket tournament: "We could always streak it from the laptop."
ajl: does some gentleman on [off-topic] feel like making a private reply including https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Streaking ? I feel this is a disambiguation vs. "streaming" which should not come from a lady.
Upon which statement, several corners inquired whether "lady" really applied in this instance.

Purple had a programming situation which eventually turned out to be an unexpected NULL instead of the nice little object the program was expecting. Mommas, don't let your variables grow up to be un-initialized.

I wanted to get one last email finished before going home. It was quick, but Purple still arrived while I was wrapping up, and put out the Beacon and curled up on the nearby couch with his iPad for a few moments. "I should have waited for a reply instead of just coming over, huh," he smiled.

The parking lot saw terrible stories of dudes setting fire to their packages on video, plus other tales of fire and nether regions. (Hint: "I just got a new high-speed camera!" is not a good reason to light a fart. Sometimes, Purple's friends can pull dumbass stunts too.) We chatted through The Aristocrats, my lack of balance and the attendant jazzhands, and that time that I was the person doing the crazy religious ranting on the bus. I'm okay with informational embargo while a hole gets patched, but er. Ahem. Purple was understanding. My knees were not so understanding. His tire still has a nail in it. There was an owl, but only one this time. Perhaps it's in the owl-house, and not a cardboard box? Or perhaps it's in a redwood.

Purple got roped into doing a thing tomorrow and Thursday, so his lunch availability is low. My team probably gets custody of me, then, or maybe I shall join lb's table.

I chatted with Amber on the way home. Home included a relieving lack of paper stuffed in my doorframe.

Tomorrow will be another day. Thursday will be another inspection (announced Monday morning). Bluh.
azurelunatic: The Space Needle by night. Slightly dubious photography. (Default)
Got up. Shambled to work.

Lennon Glasses Guy needed external speakers for something. I happened to have some of those, and conscientiously labeled them before dropping them on his desk. It's not that I distrust him, it's that it's company-branded gear at a company awash in same, and I kind of like those little speakers and would prefer that someone not think they were abandoned and pick them up and take them home.

Realized, at length, that it was 12:45 and there should probably be some lunch at some point. Pinged Purple, who went approximately, "OH CRAP!" and sent the lunch call. There were cupcakes with a really nice raspberry buttercream frosting. One of the days this week, I'm not sure which one but not today, involved a guest re-appearance of the Rollercoaster Tycoon. He's just down the street, so he dropped in to pay the non-badged lunch surcharge and hang out with the gang.

The blond bearded whitedude designers of the Monkey House have set up a Slack team for the department, in service of chatting in a more lively fashion while planning the internal conference. I immediately set up RSS integration for the related not!Facebook groups. I shall have to ask them about IRC/XMPP gateway setup.

This week's hallmark of my reviews-of-external-stuff to teammates has been bluntness.
"Maybe we could have pizza?" Madam Standards asked, at the Tuesday meeting that was meant to have been about menus for the conference.
"[catering] pizza is crap," I said, and then looked around in the hopes that nobody from catering had been walking by to overhear me.
"What do you think of [file-sharing software from the Borg]?" the shorter blond bearded whitedude asked me at the Thursday conference meeting.
"Unusable," I said. The reaction around the table indicated that they'd been expecting a much more lengthy and perhaps angry rant.

Someone at lunch also brought up the topic of catering pizza, and Purple and I reacted with horror. Purple started to explain it, but seemed unequal to the description.
"Take some really mediocre yeast rolls, about two inches thick," I started. "Smear a thin layer of pretty terrible tomato sauce on that. On top of that, some crappy pepperoni, and mozzarella--"
"Plastic," Purple added. "It's the stuff that turns to plastic after you heat it."
"And after broiling it for not quite long enough, leave it to sit for 45 minutes before serving," I concluded.

There was some discussion as to whether this was supposed to constitute "deep dish", due to the height of the bread layer. The overwhelming consensus was that it did not.

"Hitchhiker's Guide," Purple said. "Tea."
"YES!" I agreed. "It's like an alien who does not know how to cook described pizza to a robot cook who does not know how to love."

The facilities team has promised to clean the I-believe-it's-probably-not-butter off the new couch in the quiet room. Perhaps when I'm feeling a little more bold, I will inquire if there are any spare couches which could be deployed in my building's rec room. It turns out that sometimes you can get amazing things to happen if you know who to ask for them.

radius inquired after people up for a walk, as he was paying a call on a department somewhat east of the milkshake bunker, in order to collect some hardware in exchange for bugs. (This, in fact, was the event that made me look at the clock and go "oops", lunchwise.) I readied a diplomatic pouch (in the chocolate-based-diplomacy sense) and we wandered off. Notes on technology were exchanged. A lot of his expertise involves some deep file system stuff. I explained the basic concept of Slack. He mentioned that stateful implied deeply integrated logging, and how sometimes the department we had just visited occasionally said things which oughtn't to be on the record, and sometimes logs therefore disappeared. I decided to look into how that worked on Slack.

ajlunatic: also I was chatting with one of the guys and a feature that I don't know if Slack has is, occasionally there are things which get said which ought not to have been said, and should be scrubbed from the logs
talldude: hmm that's a good point
(10 minutes of FAQ-trawling)
ajlunatic: so the answer here is: if you say something which should be unsaid, please promptly unsay it, via the handy little gear.
shortdude: hah yep good policy!

The speakers worked out for Lennon Glasses Guy and his team. He returned them. I showed him my doorbell, as knocking on my cabinet will get my attention, but not actually activate my "this person is here for me" routines. He may borrow the speakers again next week. I gave him directions to find them, should I not be present: in the shelf under the flower-crowned loon head, right next to the refrigerator. Directions within my cube are perhaps not conventional.

I disappeared down the rabbit hole of attempting to figure out externally-facing website possibilities for the conference. The thing that the helpdesk pointed me at looks as though it last had its documentation updated in 2009. I may go yell into the team Slack a bit.

Now that fishie is a grown-up, she is learning that the Fishmum is somewhat more flappable than previously evident. Fishmum does in fact experience anxiety every now and then!

I like the battery capabilities of the new phone case. I do not like the implied bounce-resistance capabilities. I will be sitting down with it and some sugru in the near future. I will also have to meddle with the settings on my watch, as the replacement arrived. I got the watch bands switched over (nylon strap for me, thanks) and got the old face packed up to go in the mail.

Eventually I pinged Purple. ("Ping?") In a tiny relief to that part of me which constantly fears that being left out of one thing is a sign that I will be left out of All The Things and should take that as a signal that I am Not Part Of The Group, without overt prompting he asked if I was good with a particular dinner venue. I displayed caution over the possible V-D clogging-up of same; he figured it would be good. (And, perhaps, may have made a reservation.)

There was wrapping up. We headed out. He arrived first, and managed to score a very near parking spot. I did not score same. I found street parking, then found him inside. I hadn't felt the buzz from his text, but he'd sent a very thoughtful text about his location within the building. I'd just been wandering around looking for his hair.

Ms. Antisocialest Butterfly arrived, at length. She'd had Quite Some Time looking for a parking place. We proceeded to have a lovely dinner. Purple needed a large slab of beef in service of not being anaemic. (Anaemia: the opposite of a super-power, unless wacky magnetic shenanigans are involved.) The phrase "the odds are good, but the goods are odd" as applied to the men of Alaska, does not imply that their second and fourth balls have been eaten by bears. (N.B.: do not request oral sex from bears, unless it's the hairy gaydude sort and you have that sort of relationship.) Purple is still impressed with that conversation in which radius and I managed to not-say some really terribly inappropriate things in IRC.

The bench attempted to eat my badge when I stood up. I am happy that I picked a badge reel which is generally over-engineered for the purpose, because my stuff tends to take quite a beating.

I called [personal profile] amberfox; it's been a while! Phone-based hilarity prompted me to stop at the rest stop in order to call her back after a dead spot dropped the call as I drove through it, and then when she tried calling me, my headset didn't wind up picking up until she'd disconnected.

I am plotting a talk for Open Source Bridge, but so far it's not made it into words.

Tomorrow may involve touring another apartment complex, if I can pry myself out of bed.
azurelunatic: Axial tilt is the reason for the season. (Festive red & green text; diagram of Earth's axial tilt.) (axial tilt)
01:23 Friday, 05 December, 2014
Purple, Wednesday: Why is there sugar in your office?
Me: Frosting.
Purple: Ohhhhhh.

Manager, Thursday: Is that sugar?
Me: Yes. The lemon frosting for those cookies.
Manager: Ohhhh, and there's the lemon juice right next to it. ... I don't think anyone's ever made frosting at work before.
Me: Using breakroom butter!
Manager: *breaks down giggling*


22:40 Friday, 05 December, 2014
Today was the A-Team lunch to get briefing from some of the various facilities team. It happens quarterly. I had a few questions regarding the helldesk software. The new manager may be able to kick ass and take names.

I had been unable to find the festive headdress I was thinking of, but I did find another one. The one I was thinking of was sort of offensively festive. This one is merely very, very, very assertively festive. So much so that various people at work told me that I should start selling them. They have not, I believe, seen some of my other hats.

I may, in fact, have a bit of a hat problem. *eyes no fewer than three hats on top of the bookshelf*

Read more... )
azurelunatic: Bust of Archimedes. "Eureka: (interj) the bath is too hot." (eureka)
It was good to get back into the office, particularly now that Sparkles and the Stage Manager are back from their respective out-of-office excursions.

It's nice to have lunch with tech dudes who can say things like "I was expecting a big space epic, I wasn't expecting such a good emotional story. I cried!" about a movie.

I brought Tay's cookies into the office. When you say "special cookies", people get a somewhat ... greener ... idea of the unusual ingredients. I put the plate on the collaboration table and left a note mentioning the ingredients, in case anyone had any questions. It seemed that everyone had a reason for not being able to eat them:
* don't like ginger
* really don't like ginger
* can't have gluten
* vegan
* vegetarian
* the smell of cat food offends their stomachs and the cricket flour imparts a gentle whiff of cat food

With the icing, Purple said that it resembled eggs from a very large frog. Thank you, Purple. I don't think we had any citrus allergies, or they would have declared themselves at the lemon in the lemon icing.

Mr. Zune tried one, the only person so far other than me to do so. He agreed that it was a dry, not particularly gingery gingersnap.

Mr. Zune linked the comic http://survivingtheworld.net/Lesson45.html in chat due to the context of special ingredients and Alaska.
Transcription of link. )

I declared that what was needed was not an oven that huge, but after the method of the countertop rotating pizza oven, what you'd need was drones with heat guns.

Data entry ensued.
One of the interns is back as a full-timer! Yay!

Purple and I sketched out plans for a Mockingjay trip, now that I'd finished Catching Fire. Mr. Antisocial Butterfly was interested too. We collectively decided on Tuesday evening. Purple picked a time. Once all was decided, he polled #cupcake.

Purple forgot his badge, as he tends to do when coming back from vacation. He gets out of the habit of scooping it up on his way out the door. If this time is like last time, tonight he'll put it down white-side up and forget to pick it up tomorrow morning because it's been camouflaged.

Between one thing and the other, I sort of managed to get tickets for the wrong day, before getting them for the right day. I wound up calling the theatre to see what they could do; what they could do was put it on the equivalent of a gift card, provided I could come down to pick it up. So I did, which gave me the bonus of getting lost on not-tomorrow-night on my way there. I chatted with Nora on the way there, and Steph on the way home.

The Sprouts near the outdoor farmers market is not yet open, though it is looking closer to done.

Someone in #gf linked http://geekfeminism.wikia.com/wiki/Economically_Secure_Tech_Worker_Privilege_Checklist and I poked at it a bit.

I hope to sleep better tonight.
azurelunatic: "So after we shot up the police station and set the habitat on fire, what did we do for an encore?"  (encore)
It turns out that learning at 2am or so that Kat's and my proposal for a talk at Open Source Bridge was approved will delay my bedtime a bit. Just a wee bit. I woke up in the middle of my sleep cycle to plot a bit with Kat. I am delighted. Stage fright has not actually walloped me (yet) so I am pretty giddy and also overflowing with words from one or another of the screeds I'm writing at any given moment.

I noticed last night at work that the bottle of cherry-lime cough coffee syrup had migrated back into view: it had joined the rank of coffee condiments in the kitchen corner. The level of syrup is down to three or four fingers. Even if it's a garlic wine incident, eventually people will finish it and then it will be gone. (I shared the story of "blak" with Purple. He is a person who will take his friends' words when something is too horrible, though if the general public says something's horrible, he may try anyway due to his opinions of the good taste and common sense of the general public.)

My 1:1 meetings with my manager have been shuffled up due to various schedule-bits and such; they're now Monday afternoons late-ish, rather than Tuesday afternoons shortly after lunch. They're also down in the depths of the new building near our new corner. It's not as bowel-y as it sounds, because there's a perfectly good door with windows right nearby.

To illustrate how much of a problem my manager telling me to file tickets about things wasn't, I gave her the illustration about my shower-thoughts on that professional conference session video comment moderation policy I was thinking about, with Avengers as examples. I started describing the feedback on Pepper's impeccably put-together presentation, to my manager's howls of laughter.

Today, after lunch I cruised by the ergonomics lab, and got myself measured for the proper standing desk height. The answer is in fact apparently 42 (inches).

The fucking database has improved, amazingly! Now, when you try to upload something and the upload fails, you get a (poorly spelled, but we can't have everything) error message saying which lines it had choked on and vaguely why. This resulted in me dancing in to Purple's office and beaming at him and explaining that the world was not made of fail, and then dancing off to wash my coffee cup.

My (iced) coffee cup now no longer sufficiently insulates its bottom. This is because I tried washing it with water that was much too hot for the plastic. Alas.

One of the screeds of the moment is entitled "Our Dick Jokes are Different", and should probably come with a TvTropes warning, because that title is straight out of the Our Monsters are Different (TVTROPES!!!!) index. Sometimes the people who are important in my life are very wrong. When that happens, the best idea is to let me screed from a safe distance. We'll see exactly how much research this particular screed takes. I <> you very much, my good friend, but you are still wrong, both off and on the internet.

We still don't know collective moving date for sure. Maybe tomorrow we'll know.
azurelunatic: "beautiful addiction", electron microscope photo of caffeine (beautiful addiction)
Today my manager was Out, and I used the 1:1 time shoving things into boxes, and reconciling papers with computers, and pulling things out of closets.

I popped by the desktop office with two briefcases full of ancient Latitude mumblety-something versions. Poor long-suffering Chip. Then I returned with a third briefcase, because there was really nowhere else to put it.

As part of this whole exercise, various things are being put out for salvage, such as the tablecloths of bad mojo, and a whole bunch of random swag. People from the team were coming up to me the whole day, asking whether I had any left. The vultures claimed it all, very quickly.

Transporting an array of coffee syrup bottles coherently is less fun than you might imagine. This is complicated by the need for everything to be in boxes -- if I thought I could get away with it, I would have left it intact and just carried it across and down myself. But probably not, no. So all the syrups went in one box. I top each box with my email address, just in case the external labeling fails and I have an orphaned box found somewhere.

So there was the matter of getting the syrup pumps out of the bottles. This involved unscrewing, draining, rinsing, and being careful about angles. I had a little more coffee than usual due to using up the drained syrup.

One of the bottles was the ill-favoured cherry-lime. I left that in the traditional free-stuff place.

I got the notice that I was accepted in to the transition pilot for the leap from Exchange 2007 to 2013. In the absence of my Overlady, I had to check her inbox to make sure she'd got the same message (because we go as a unit). In said inbox, I found a question from the PM on the other end of my block. So I hit the database again, and shook it until candy fell out, and this time I was careful to reply as myself and not as my Overlady. So another PM is learning where the information comes from.

One of the mover guys came past my cube and asked was I going to use all those boxes. Yes. Yes, I was.

The PM down the corner is not sure when she's moving, but she thinks it's soon. She is also going to be out of the state next week sometime. This may interact poorly. I bequeathed her two of my boxes -- when I run out, I can request more, but if she's going to be out of the office, she has a limited time window for packing.

The large metal rooster goes in the box before the lava lamp.

I saw JD checking in vaguely near where I was at, and called to ask if he needed a ride home. He allowed as how that might be good. Various communications later, I made my escape and headed in the direction of dinner. (Purple was delighted to learn of a place that did Mongolian beef in the general area, but was staying Somewhat Later.) I joined JD and his hiking buddy. Om nom nom beef.

When I headed out from work, the cherry-lime syrup bottle was still as I'd left it.

I had forgotten how very much I dislike driving and parking near Castro Street in Mountain View. It is not my favorite thing. Fortunately, parking garage. Fortunately, legs.

Then I drove JD home. Yay!

The Starbucks near my friendly neighborhood Trader Joe's is open hella late. I got a cookie. Then I came home and finished up my step count while detangling and re-braiding my hair.
azurelunatic: Thalia, Muse of Comedy, in a plaster relief sculpture. She is adorned with an ivy wreath, holds crook & mask (Thalia)
Researcher Sweatervest was partially in charge of his university's user research lab. Yay! (He likes ours better! Yay!)


I don't know how much Monty Python my manager knows. I suspect I'll find out next week, when she either will or won't side-eye me when I send the following:

Isn’t it awfully nice to have computers
Isn’t it frightfully good to have a host
It’s swell to have a server
It’s best to own a box
From the teeniest Mac Mini or oh hey that Mac Pro rocks...

The most difficult part of this was looking up the original lyrics without entertaining the network crew too much.


I managed to accidentally get pulled over. I was not heretofore aware that this could happen in the way that it happened. There was a patrol car going down the freeway with its lights on in another lane, well away from me. I tried to get the hell out of its way by pulling over and slowing down. Unfortunately, the way I did so combined with the way the patrol car was driving and the actual pulled-over person was driving, resulted in me sandwiched between them.

The voice on the loudspeaker from behind me: "WOULD YOU JUST GET OUT OF THE WAY." The audio properties of the loudspeaker may have added some exasperation to it, but ...

Out of the way I got, using my turn signal properly. I made it to work without further incident.


The phrase "replace their god-given knees with folgers crystals" is the sort of quiet workplace yelling I can appreciate. Also, the phrase "god-given knees" has been bumping around. My god-given knees have been a little dodgy every time I manage to have to hustle or stand around for a few hours. Alas.


Coffee with cherry-lime syrup and also a handful of electric raspberry blue conversation hearts is a combination that might have worked with less sulfurous cherry. I told Purple what was in it, and his audio processing center got knocked offline for a few seconds, and I had to explain each component much more slowly so that he could attempt to assemble a mental image, against his every sense of what was right and proper. I will not be repeating that combination, and I will not be re-ordering that syrup.

Today, I added a handful of the green lime hearts to my glass of cock-cola. It was not terrible. Purple is rather more verbally eloquent face-to-face than he is in textual contexts, so my experiment was greeted with:

lol
nut

before he had to disappear for the evening. I am all right with Purple calling me a nut in this context, as he knows my true name and also I call him "terrible" regularly in much the same contextual tone. (And had he not disappeared with such alacrity, he might have found some form of hazelnut coffee drink on his desk, that being my only nut syrup at the moment.)


Apparently the official workplace position on desk pranking is that managers cannot condone any shenanigans done unto the workspaces of other employees. A manager who is going with the spirit of the regulation rather than the strictest letter might choose to officially not take notice of various happenings in someone's workspace so long as they were sure that it was kindly meant and would be received in the spirit in which it was done. A manager who is hinting at the idea that a little surprise might be well-received is going above and beyond to ensure that the emotional needs of staff are well-met, and might in fact be relieved to hear that other parties had already started in on things that no official notice could be taken of.

Heh. Heh.

My tweets

Dec. 3rd, 2013 12:01 pm
azurelunatic: The Space Needle by night. Slightly dubious photography. (Default)
  • Mon, 19:39: ladyspirits: theprettygoodgatsby: my favorite part of hamlet is at the beginning when they see the ghost of... http://t.co/yGXDDba6gK
  • Tue, 00:10: Just found a post-it with "revenge boba" scrawled on it. Pretty sure that lb and I were discussing gonzo kitchen science again.
  • Tue, 00:27: RT @Inoru88: @azurelunatic "gonzo kitchen science" sounds like you put Gonzo, the Swedish Chef, and Dr Bunsen Honeydew together, unsupervis…
  • Tue, 01:01: My fitbit #Fitstats for 12/02/2013: 1,850 steps and 0.8 miles traveled. http://t.co/gFMrr7HEB6
  • Tue, 01:34: RT @xlerb: @azurelunatic First parsed as being about Boba Fett.
  • Tue, 02:13: RT @Ali_Davis: The magnificent antlers of the bisexual are grown and shed each year, and reveal beautiful patterns under ultraviolet light.…
  • Tue, 03:34: RT @norabombay: I am quoted in the daily dot article on crack van. Being an internationally known expert on assbabies is good for some thin…
  • Tue, 03:48: RT Step 1) see if Amazon PrimeAir delivers bees Step 2) look up address for Comcast headquarters Step 3) BEEEEEEEEES #nointernetever #bees
  • Tue, 03:55: RT @FriedGoldDan: A Toyota, racecar and Civic turn up at a velodrome. The cyclist says "This is for bikes, you're thinking of a palindrome."
  • Tue, 03:56: RT @miss_s_b: Oh god. Neuroplasticity, people. If you live in a starkly gendered society YOUR BRAIN WILL ADAPT. *subtweeting the entire ne…
Read more... )
azurelunatic: The Space Needle by night. Slightly dubious photography. (Default)
Read more... )

And now ... I FETCH THE FRUITS.
azurelunatic: Computer parts made of gingerbread.  (gingerbread motherboard)
So at work, our Team Leader mentioned that he was turning 21. I casually wrangled the date out of him, and noticed that it was one of his days in. In fact, it was that very next day (well, values of 'in 26 hours' that evaluated to 'next shift'), so I got busy on IM.

I am an instigator. Magnus is a ringleader. Chappy comes up with insane schemes. Somehow, we concocted the idea of a cake, composed of all the snack cakes we could get our hands on, purchase to be distributed between the participants. They ran with it. )

Our team lead was massively surprised, and had to snap a picture.


Cake Macro
What happens when our team lead turns 21
Creamy Candy Corn Filling
Our team lead hates candy corn. :D
Cake Macro Creamy Candy Corn Filling



Our team lead got the first piece, then we all grabbed something. Work continued. There were some leftovers for first shift, and I brought the cake dome home the next day. It was good times.
azurelunatic: "beautiful addiction", electron microscope photo of caffeine (beautiful addiction)
It's a good day. Plasma went well. I'm reading some crap mystery about an alcoholic lawyer defending the impossible client. It's going to take me a few more donations to get through this one, because there are so many other things to look at.

Have tried Blak now. It tastes like that someone took that pot of coffee that's been sitting in the break room since morning -- you know, the dregs of it -- chilled it, and mixed it half-and-half with the Coke that's half real syrup and half artificial sweetener, and then ran it through the carbonation process again just to make sure that it really was fizzy enough. Judging from the ingredients list, that's about exactly what they did.

I have a Cunning Plan to attempt to duplicate or better the recipe when we're out tonight. This depends on a glass of Coke, an empty glass with plenty of ice, and a pot of coffee. Oh, and all the sugar packets on the table.

Ph34r.
azurelunatic: The Space Needle by night. Slightly dubious photography. (Default)
Asparagus and chicken casserole.
azurelunatic: "Food Pr0n", cherries.  (food pr0n)
Today was plasma donation, followed up by a Trader Joe's stop. I realized that since I'm only shopping for myself, I can get things that I actually want to eat, and I won't have to worry about whether or not I'm tying up the household budget and storage space in things that no one else likes. That meant that I could explore the store for things I'd never been looking for before. And lo and behold...

Trader Joe's has frozen orange chicken.

I was transported with glee! Orange chicken! Trader Joe's quality, Trader Joe's prices, and I now have a thermos-bag to take frozen things home by bus during the hot, hot days of summer! Alas that I had not made this discovery while the household was still intact!

I bought one package, to see how I liked it before committing to more than just a few meals of this. The down side of not having roommates is that one has to either consume all of one's culinary mistakes, or let them go to waste. So simple to cook -- toss the chicken in the oven, heat the packets of sauce, coat the chicken in the sauce and serve.

And the first taste was like the culinary gods forsaking me.

The sauce is tart with vinegar, not citrus. If tastes were smell, this would be the first fumbling attempts of the juniormost apprentice of a perfumer ejected from the imperial courts of Cetaganda for incompetence to duplicate by rote the scent of the rose from elemental building blocks. It tastes Western. It tastes of refined sugar and mass production. It tastes like mall food.


It's actually not too horribly bad once the sauce has had a few hours in the refrigerator to mix with the chicken.
azurelunatic: "Food Pr0n", cherries.  (food pr0n)
[livejournal.com profile] thette -- given Hugo, you may want to give this entry a skip.

In the depths of my refrigerator, left over from at least February or even times before that, sat a large (unopened) plastic-wrapped block of medium cheddar cheese. I hauled it out today (well, Monday, but that counts as "today" because I haven't yet slept) and took a look at it.

There were no funny spots. The thing looked just the same plastic-yellow color, and I determined that well, it's cheese. And unless cheese starts hosting alien life-forms or dessicating beyond repair, given that it's been sitting in well-supervised cooling...

So I tried it.

Evidently, well-packaged, well-preserved medium cheddar cheese turns into extra-sharp cheddar after it's passed its sell-by date by a good five months.

My inner cheese fiend has been having a field day, and secretly plotting to hoard packages of unopened cheese at the bottom of the refrigerator. If I still had roommates, at some point I would have naturally been questioned on the topic of why, and I would have had to have affected an innocent face and answered, "I'm sharpening them!" (The innocent face when I'm saying something perfectly outrageous is one of my special talents.)
azurelunatic: The Space Needle by night. Slightly dubious photography. (Default)
Yum!

I pitted these cherries, soaked them in vodka for a while, with sugar, then strained them out of the vodka, sugared them rather thoroughly, let them sit for a while, and am now eating them.

Yum.

I'll have to make a repeat performance of this, and then use the resulting cherries in fruitcake or something, and leave it where kid/cat can't get at it.

Profile

azurelunatic: The Space Needle by night. Slightly dubious photography. (Default)
Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺

February 2019

S M T W T F S
     12
345 6789
10111213 141516
1718 1920212223
2425262728  

Most Popular Tags

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Style Credit

Page generated Feb. 23rd, 2019 09:55 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios