At three hours to midnight, guess who lost their balance trying to string up seasonally discounted fairy lights to illuminate the basement dungeon, stepped square on the disassembled sex swing, and fell head first into the mirror?

At a minimum, my left foot is badly bruised. I am not going to think about the further possibilities until at least tomorrow. I'm in bed with an intermittent ice pack and a mild headache.

...now includes any snack food with powder of a color that is usually a terrible warning when encountered in nature.

*kitten rocket pack*

• We learned that if you use the wrong batter in the (metaphorical) cupcake, nothing obviously goes wrong, just things start silently shitting themselves (metaphorically) later.
• We learned that my mechanic really wasn't kidding about that dodgy battery.
• We learned that I have in fact memorized the number for workplace security (they actually make it really easy on purpose).
• We learned that security does in fact do jumpstarts.
• We learned that my reaction to this is an impulsively blurted "I love you" to the (very amused) security guy doing the telephone tree thing.
• We learned that an actively dodgy battery results in -- oh gosh -- the Check Engine light turning the hell on.
• We learned that I can in fact walk someone generally internet-competent who has never touched a Bugzilla before through getting to it, creating an account and logging in, and finding a specific bug. (Not actually related to work, but it seems that norabombay has Feelings about the running of communities, and I'm working on a Thing.)
• We learned that my friendly neighborhood Spider-Man O RLY auto parts store is open at least until 9.
• We learned that even though I did not have the receipt on me, O'Reilly keeps a log of battery purchases by phone number, and the fact that my last battery died on Thanksgiving meant that I bought the battery the day after meant easier for the dude to search.
• We learned that when the more experienced dude says to the less experienced dude, "Dude, it's *boiling*," this means the old battery totally needs replacing.
• We learned that what was about an hour of trial, error, and swearing for me was less than five minutes for the dude (who did not appear to have an electricity phobia).
• We learned that when the problem was in fact the seriously fucking dodgy battery, the check engine light then goes *off* after it's been replaced.

In non-work news, I had a wonderful bad idea: what happens if I make orange-lime jello shots with Mountain Dew and vodka? Possibly also with a little added caffeine?

I may be referring to http://www.myscienceproject.org/j-shot.html over the course of the experiment.

Plans currently involve:

• Stopping by the supermarket on a probably-foggy evening
• Variously citrus jello
• I already have some of the good Dew with the real sugar
• I already have some vodka left over from the fruit infusions
• I already have caffeine
• Suitable vessels
• Some mixing time
• Some chilling time
• Some time with absoluuuutely no place to be for SOME TIME FOLLOWING.

... because it makes the risk of having unadvised neighbor sex a whole hell of a lot lower.


1st email, sometime last week:

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For entertainment purposes, commodorified is collecting a list of Action Verbs To Avoid When Writing Your CV.

People who are freely allowed to call me "sweetheart": friends (+) to whom this mode of address comes naturally.

People from whom I will accept "sweetheart" cheerfully enough: people from whom it seems to come naturally, in a situation where they haven't really had the opportunity to learn my name, and "miss", "ma'am", and the like seem a little too distant. (Baltimore folks, never fear, "hon" is in this category, situationally.)

Situations where I totally don't accept it: condescendingly, or from someone who has critically underestimated my skill level.

Situations where I will grit my teeth and bear it: when the vaguely touristy-looking fellow with his Aged Parent (and he himself looks old enough to be in my parents' generation) has out of the kindness of his heart done clumsily and brutally what I was capable of doing with elegance and precision, but technically rescuing me from a tight spot, so my thanks are socially obligatory. When I'm flustered, furthermore, I become an inarticulate motherfucker, so it's sort of hard for me to succinctly express "I just put a new battery in him and one of the thingies may have popped loose", which was in fact the case.

"Here, sweetheart, give me something to hammer on it with. The vice-grips will do!"

*facepalm*

This is for http://lauand.livejournal.com/88675.html (THE SECOND EDITION OF THE FANART-THAT-LOOKS-DRAWN-BY-A-FIVE-YEAR-OLD CONTEST).


( g-d help me if the fic for this isn't done yet. )

10:27 AM 3/11/2010
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It's reassuring to know that the dulcet sounds of what seems to be guys with crowbars and hammers (and hammering on the crowbars) ripping up the roof of an adjacent building are in fact guys with crowbars and hammers (and hammering on the crowbars) ripping up the roof of an adjacent building.

( Read more... )

10:37 AM 3/11/2010
Dear tired eyes: "render farm" != "reindeer farm", even though Brain thinks this is *hilarious*, and will be repeating it for possibly *weeks*.

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2:06 AM 3/12/2010
Have not only returned from Generalized Hilarity At Tif's Night, but have also taken in my Problematic Shorts to account for the string that the washing machine ate.

Tonight featured Were the World Mine (conservative high school does A Midsummer Night's Dream with the gay guy as Puck, and Wacky Hijinks Ensue; at one point Tif and I chorused together, "That's the wrong play!" as the boys quoted something from R&J), which was good times. Then came Tom Brown's Schooldays, which has Joseph Beattie (the significance of whom means little to people who aren't in the same RPG as me), Alex Pettyfer (the significance of whom may be lost on those who are not on the same ever-loving email list I am on), and Stephen Fry (thou shalt not question him). (Oh dear, I just earwormed myself.)

Figured out what has to happen before Connie tells Mike the whole story on her ex. Poor Connie. Poor Mike.

I think it is time to go see whether the apartment complex gym has specified hours, and whether my little electronic key is good on that door.

3:15 AM 3/12/2010
Apparently either my key is no good, or my key does not work during certain hours. Undaunted, I went on a walk that turned out to be 45 minutes or so round trip, and only had to use my cane a little. (My left knee is annoyed, though.)

3:39 AM 3/12/2010
My love language scores are warped by the fact that there are some things that I actually cannot imagine certain parties doing, when I read through the assessment: to have them do this would seem completely strange and unnatural. So I don't mark that, because it wouldn't make sense in context. ( My scores for the one I took, though probably only I will care. )
http://www.afo.net/hftw-lovetest.asp is less cloyingly heteronormative and inescapably romantic than the thing on the official site.

4:03 AM 3/12/2010
Much like Bren, I had a little tea and now I cannot stop tasting it or smelling it (even after drinking coca-cola after the tea). Unlike Bren, it was non-toxic to my species. :D

5:57 AM 3/12/2010
Reminder to self: no matter how funny it seems, any hobby depicted in an XKCD comic is entirely possibly not a good idea to pick up.

8:05 AM 3/12/2010
Goggles, yes. Zeppelins with wifi. But more with the brown trenchcoats these days, rather than red capes. (re: http://xkcd.com/239/ )

10:16 AM 3/12/2010
Have started to get commentary from Mike about the Current Book Scene that just started writing itself all out of continuity, so I'm going to have to look for a place for it when I go back through with the timetable, the calendar, and the pruning shears. Mike is perhaps tending toward the mildly-pornographic this morning.

Cleaning out the browser and the inbox.

rimrunner, here: "The fans were installed without incident. However, they haven't quite gotten the covering grille back in place, despite banging on it for several minutes with what appeared to be a length of copper trim. Important lesson: when the right tool is not available, use the wrongest tool possible."

mamadeb recommends iSilo as a reader for getting stories from websites onto one's palmtop.





Last night's round of dreams included one where someone was asking me to ask the Divine for the answer to a problem. That's the sort of stuff I do. I closed my eyes, went for access, saw the white light, and had just enough time to think "Oh, shit!" before I passed out with a sharp buzz like a power surge in my head, and came to thinking "--Not again!" some unspecified time later.