Out of context theatre

Mar. 3rd, 2015 06:30 pm
thedivinegoat: (Glitch - Moon Over Nottis)
[personal profile] thedivinegoat
"And that's how we get Typhoid in Aberdeen"
azurelunatic: Dreamwidth is powered by [disco ball] (dw disco)
[personal profile] azurelunatic
Friday:
I woke up and got online to the devastating news that Leonard Nimoy had died.

Some months ago, Purple and I had discussed the way that both of us, and a lot of weird nerd children, had had a particular alien who had helped us get through a fuckton of loneliness and rejection by our alleged peers. His alien had been Mork. My alien had been Spock. After I cried hysterically in #yuletide for a few minutes, I guess the brief idea of calling out grieving floated through my mind but didn't attach to anything: I knew without even having to think about it that the news would be bouncing through #cupcake and [off-topic] and I would be among fellow mourners. I grieve with thee.

While my fingers and eyes were working, my brain spent a good chunk of the morning before lunch curled up next to a friend.

Over lunch (pizza, because the burritos are contaminated this week) I happened to mention that I'd gone to bed without writing about the day on Thursday night. Purple asked how much I typically wrote. I made a reasonable guess. After what I reckoned to be smiling at the quaint measurement system, he was impressed, because 3-4 kilobytes of text is not a small amount to just dash off, and he would probably not generate that much text about what he'd done in a day (and this is why he doesn't keep a journal). I allowed as how some days were more than others, and I did things like foreshadow and put in running themes. I gave the SUV thing as an example of a thing that I would have woven throughout the day until it reached the culmination in the parking lot. "You wouldn't have even recognized that it was the same guy who passed us if I hadn't told you!" he pointed out. (Let alone the part where I didn't even register that someone had passed us.) Hooray faceblindness.

So tonight, after writing up Thursday properly, I checked to see how much text I'd generated. That one was a little over 9 kilobytes. Oops.

Purple and I had been having a quiet conversation about Leonard Nimoy, a bit, and I was feeling sad, when Lennon Glasses Guy and one of the other lunch crowd turned to Purple to ask them to solve a debate: what exactly did it fuck up when there were two copies of one mac address on the same network. That got Purple going. He's the guy that everyone turns to as an authority about many of these things. So he held forth. It turned out that he had in fact personally experienced the bad effects of a MAC address conflict at work. His not!boyfriend had said: "Purple, I just logged in to your dev box..." Turns out a lab machine had faked the same MAC as Purple's. Oops.

I asked Madam Standards how many colors black I was wearing. She had not realized that there was so much variation in the things that she had thought were just 'black'. This was apropos of The Dress. (She and I do not see eye to eye.)

Got a chance to chat with my manager on her way out the door. She's had the flu, and there were allergies overlapping; she said something about all the yellow dust. I made an Amber Spyglass crack. She giggled.

Between all of the things that were going on, there was no milkshake run. radius discovered that he was actually kind of hungry, and his side of the office had run out of M&Ms and no one had restocked them in the afternoon. There were also no gingersnaps.

I reckoned that I needed a walk to clear my head, and it was also time that I checked in with lb's Overlady, so I decided a supply run could be in order. I grabbed a few little plastic cups and got together some chocolate covered espresso beans, a ginger cookie out of my break room, and some M&Ms. That was a little more than was easy to carry, so I stuffed the espresso beans in a mug, balanced the cookie on a napkin on top, and carried the M&Ms in my other hand.

Going out doors is easy. Going in doors often requires a badge. So I swapped the M&Ms to balance them on top of the cookie, operated the badge with my right hand, and opened the door with my left hand -- and promptly spilled the M&Ms off the top of the cookie onto the floor. As I tried desperately to salvage the situation, the cookie toppled as well.

I picked up the scattered M&Ms, looked at them and the cookie sadly, and put them in the nearest compost trash. Friends don't give friends floor cookies. At least I had the espresso beans, protected within the cheerfully patterned mug.

radius was glad to see the espresso beans. I cautioned him against overenthusiasm, as caffeine poisoning often offends.

My next stop was lb's Overlady, who gave me intelligence that the new guy, the one who was taking over everything after the last three clowns had been shuffled out, was also not much longer for the company, and his last day would be ... Friday! Yay! She urged caution and diplomacy. She was also glad to see the chocolate covered espresso beans.

A friend in another department did some research. Now, there is always a small element of Musical Executives. It is a very small valley. Thus we learned a few things:

The incoming exec implemented something based on the same root technology as the helldesk program at his old place.
The incoming exec is therefore unlikely to discard the helldesk software out of hand.
The incoming exec may actually know what $SOFTWARE looks like when it's functioning properly.
The incoming exec, if we are very very lucky, may recognize the helldesk situation as being terrible.

Lannister has a helldesk derivative of her own to deal with. She did not escape unscathed.

I'd had to do my hours first thing in the morning, because this was the day that the Old Contractor Management Company was letting go of me, and therefore I had to do my hours ASAP so they could get them put in ASAP and get everything done in the coming week. So 7pm was my deadline. I'd be done by then. Purple pinged me about dinner. I assented. This time I would not do dumb car tricks!

Purple thought he saw a little white car behind him as he made the U-turn, but it was a different little white car. It's so hard to tell these things in the dark.

We wound up attempting to explain Cards Against Humanity to Ms. Antisocialest Butterfly. It was great.

I saw a guy who looked almost exactly like the guy who runs the Secret Milkshake Bunker, except he was wearing an orange headband, walking out. However, my facial recognition skills are dodgy at best, so Purple was not at all sure that this was the right guy.

Purple got something with a side dish of sour cream. So did Ms. Antisocialest Butterfly. Mine didn't have it. Purple had extra, and offered me some. My knife was covered with the very bright red sauce that was all over the ... cheese thing.

"Sorry for getting my sauce in your sour cream," I said.

Ms. Antisocialest Butterfly made the face that meant that she was thinking dirty, dirty thoughts.

I made the appalled face, and it was only a tiny bit forced. "Oh god no," I said. "I know we're very close, but we're not THAT kind of friends."

Purple didn't entirely follow exactly what she'd meant, but he knew it was entirely filthy. Heh.

I have been enjoying doing all the bill-related math in my head. It makes a fun exercise for me. It had been a while since I'd refreshed my cash on hand, so I retrieved some fives and rather a lot of ones. Ms. Antisocialest Butterfly stared. "Why do...?"

"Ice cream," I said. That didn't actually answer anything.

Purple clarified: when you get a $3-and-something serving of ice cream using decimal currency, you get a lot of ones. I'm not actually a stripper. :D

It came time to go home. I claimed a hug goodnight. "See you tomorrow!" Purple started to say, and then corrected himself. We both had plans. Mine involved shopping with Tif, and Jupiter Rising. He said I'd have to tell him whether he should watch it or not.

RECIPE: Sekritly Squashy Mac'n'Cheese

Feb. 28th, 2015 04:19 pm
kinetikatrue: (Default)
[personal profile] kinetikatrue
[Adapted from this Rachel Ray recipe, that I caught Ms. Ray making the end of while flipping past the Food Network. It's probably great, too, but I'm loving my version for its look-a-like qualities.]

I mentioned this on Twitter the other day, while we of the greater DC area were enjoying a snow day - and I got enough favorites that I figured I might as well throw the recipe up on here, because you know what's great about it? It's hearty, pleasing to 6 and 8 year-olds, a Kraft Dinner lookalike, full of veggies and super easy to make. It feeds a few hockey players* - or a family of five with leftovers. And the survey says I'm gonna have to make another batch of this soon using SWEET Italian sausage, because that's what the people want. 8D

Anyway, without further ado, ingredients and directions:

Preheat the oven to 350F or turn on the broiler.

1 lb box macaroni (wheat, rice, whatever floats your dietary boat)

Then, start heating a couple quarts of water in a large pot. Cook the macaroni according to package directions - and drain and set aside.

1 lb country sausage (or Italian or whatever - choose a flavour you enjoy, spicy or not, involving the meat or non-meat protein of your choice)
1 onion, diced
a few cloves garlic, chopped
some olive oil

At the same time, heat the olive oil in a 12" skillet that can go in the oven. Add the onion and garlic and let them melt for a few minutes. Then add the sausage and stir to mix, breaking it up as you go. Cook until sausage is browned, stirring occasionally.

1 14.5 oz can pumpkin puree
1 roasted butternut squash neck
1 c heavy cream (or your preferred type of milk)
nutmeg, savory, pepper

Meanwhile, blend together pumpkin, squash and cream (in a blender or food processor, or a bowl or large measuring cup using a stick blender), then add to sausge and onion mixture in pan. Mix thoroughly, stirring as the squash mixture heats. Season with nutmeg, savory and pepper (to taste). Then add the macaroni and stir until the macaroni is evenly coated with sauce.

2 c shredded cheese (I used a mix of 1 c goat cheddar, 1/3 c smoked gouda and 2/3 c sharp orange cheddar, but that's just what the cheese drawer contained enough of to make two cups - any other similar combination would be fine)
parmesan

Next, stir the shredded cheese in slowly and carefully (the pan will probably be pretty full at this point). Grate a fine layer of parmesan over the top - and put the whole thing in the oven for 15 minutes, then serve!

*Don't actually have data on the hockey player front, but it seems like it would make pretty good hockey fuel.
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
[personal profile] azurelunatic
Thursday:

I arrived at work to find unusually scant pickings in the way of parking spaces. I wound up wedging my car in next to a Jeep which was parked uncomfortably close to the line, who was in turn evading a shiny silver Lexus SUV (here I would say "of course", but my aunt drives a not-so-shiny silver one of those which is like at least 10 at this point) which was parked ... well, one of the tires was "on" the line, where by "on" I mean "also mostly over". So it certainly wasn't the Jeep's fault.

I hit lunch early because of the now-inevitable 1pm Thursday meeting. If it's not one part of the conference planning, it's another. On stepping outside, I heard a rushing noise, sort of like any one of the following:
* Niagara Falls at a distance of a quarter-mile or so
* A jet engine, slightly closer
* About a hundred distant and terrifyingly in-sync jackhammers
* A white noise generator, turned way up

It was a lovely day, though, so Purple's lunch table was out in the courtyard. It was such a nice day that Purple expressed the desire to sit on top of a mountain for a while. His not!boyfriend apparently gets tired of nature very quickly, and the concept "Is that all there is, just all these trees and this lake?" was floated, to much hilarity. So that was the main topic of conversation for a while.

Eventually someone mentioned the noise, and maybe walking down to see what was going on with it. Some people hadn't even noticed the noise (cue incredulity from the rest of the table).

The 1pm meeting was something to which I was able to contribute constructively. A note to all would-be presenters: I don't care if it's "just" five dozen pens, if you don't tell the logistics person about it, it's not going to happen. I am likewise vaguely unimpressed with the attempt to add a poster session without explicitly telling me what the plans are.

Following that was the team meeting, featuring some guy who canceled twice before being able to make it finally. The meeting was punctuated with 10 minutes of rapid-fire buzzing from my watch, in which the helldesk software dumped "an offensive load" of quadruplicate stale notifications into my inbox. I was Not Best Pleased.

I returned to find that radius had proposed a milkshake run. He and Purple converged on my cube, and we stomped up towards the milkshake dungeon.

Helldesk wasn't the only thing which was dumping: it turned out that the roaring sound was the local gas company venting some of their pipes, in either reaction to, or preparation for, something. We started out discussing that. And while I was a little caught up in my own bubble for it to register, Purple greeted someone he knew who passed us on the sidewalk.

One of the reasons I was caught up in my own bubble was that possibly while this was going on, I had caught sight of one of the security guards coming down the path that we were about to go up. Ordinarily this would be unexceptionable, except that this was the guy who I am actively avoiding. Since radius and Purple were already talking a mile a minute, and we'd scrunched ourselves into a somewhat more path-friendly configuration, they walked slightly ahead while I walked behind between them. I was aware that they were essentially in forward bodyguard position, and I looked Pointedly Elsewhere as the guy passed, although he was talking somewhat loudly on a headset.

This occasioned (also somewhat loud and probably audible to the guy as we passed) commentary from radius and Purple, about not super sensitive of mental health issues )

The sight of ravens on the upper cafeteria led radius to explain about the difference between North American crows and Australian crows: the Aussie crows are much, much ruder. That naturally led into a discussion of Craig Ferguson's flag-mouthed profanity replacement.

The guys aren't used to the vagaries of the elevator in this building. It's a double-sided elevator, with one door leading inside and one leading outside. We typically enter the elevator from the outside and exit from the inside door in the basement. In order that the rear door button works, however, requires a badge swipe. Generally I operate the thing, since I'm used to it, but Purple was closer this time.

We queued up to get our various ice creams. I'd neglected to take my lactose pills before stomping out the door, which situation I usually address by getting the lactose-free sorbets (lemon and strawberry are my favorites, though there are others I really enjoy too) but the chocolate and the vanilla looked very good. I comforted myself with the plan that I would eat them slowly and then take the pills when I got back to my desk.

Purple greeted someone. "So this is why you were in such a hurry!" he said, or words to that effect. Apparently there was some reason or other, but one of the things was that he was going in search of those little oatmeal cookies that are said to be in the break rooms, but in practice nearly never are (except in the Building of Conference Rooms) (except when they've been overrun with conferences). Stymied in his pursuit of cookies, he came for ice cream instead. Purple was amused.

We went outside to sit for a bit. There is asbestos in these here buildings. California law is at pains to let us know about it, and all of the main entrances have this very long URL on the windows, which presumably people are supposed to type in by hand. We comment on it basically every other time we see it. This time we got mired in server response codes. Then we walked back.

I popped in to see Madam Standards, and we wound up going over some of the party details together. She did a lot last year with the Commandant; this year she's heading up the party committee. She knows basically what she's doing, but appreciates cross-checking, especially when I tease out aspects of her ideas which she hadn't really considered. This one: a simple socializing hack using candy dishes.

Mr. Zune had shared the information about the llamas, and soon the dress also hit [off-topic].

My battle re: helldesk was interrupted by Researcher Carmageddon with actual research-related tasks for me. Hooray! So I did that, and then it was time to go home.

Purple walked me out as per usual. Since I've been a bit less steady on my feet these days than is quite normal for me (the extra steps may be getting to my knees) he has taken to walking with me to my car when I'm parked further out, just in case I need steadying (and because when we chat, that means I can lean on Vash). "Where are you?" he asked, when a quick peer around the parking lot did not yield the correct little white car. I was in the same column, just way down near the end, behind the van blocking our view. By this time, the Jeep was long gone, but the silver Lexus SUV was still there, still on over the line.

Purple was merrily talking smack about the parking job when the vehicle beeped. He peered around the thing to see someone approaching. "Oh hey," he said, to someone he obviously knew. Awkward! "He was the guy who passed us on the way up for milkshakes," he explained to me after the guy whizzed out of the parking lot. (It was the hour of departures, as a little white car across the way left within the same 30 seconds, and the van which had been blocking line of sight from Purple's car left within a few minutes also.) I shared my blueberries (I'd guessed wrong; I thought he didn't like blueberries, but it turns out it's pomegranates that he's not pleased with; generally he is in favor of fresh fruit) and we talked about surreal video game plots.

After not too long we headed off.

Still no update on the launderizer situation. I keep expecting to come home to find some sort of missive, but it has not transpired. On the up side, this is motivation to not let my housekeeping slip much during the week.

I was tired enough to go to bed without a formal writeup, though I had contemplated the idea of attempting to explain my day from my phone in bed. It turned out my tiredness had other ideas.

(no subject)

Feb. 27th, 2015 11:30 pm
denise: Image: Me, facing away from camera, on top of the Castel Sant'Angelo in Rome (Default)
[staff profile] denise posting in [site community profile] dw_maintenance
If you're seeing slow page load times, pages not fully loading, missing icons, 'naked' pages (the text of the page only, without any styling, etc): please shift-refresh your browser, clear your browser cache, and then just hang tight. We're switching CDN providers, so your browser may have cached the wrong copy of things.

If the problem hasn't cleared up by tomorrow, then let us know and we'll look into it further!
eemilyvr1: (Default)
[personal profile] eemilyvr1
grayflannelsuit:

RIP Leonard Nimoy (March 26, 1931 – February 27, 2015)

Posted in full at: http://eemilyvr1.tumblr.com/post/112281197625
eemilyvr1: (Default)
[personal profile] eemilyvr1
mrspeggymartinelli:

Peggy Carter + Remember The Name

Requested by anonymous

Posted in full at: http://eemilyvr1.tumblr.com/post/112277941025
eemilyvr1: (Default)
[personal profile] eemilyvr1
into-the-weeds:

#eliot imprints he imprints so hard all while very loudly insisting that HE IS NOT IN THIS FOR THE REVOLUTION#HE IS NOT IN IT FOR YOU PRINCESS#literally no one believes him#probably because eliot keeps taking the blows and saving their hides#sophie catches a cold and eliot shows up scowling with a container of tom kha kai#nate stumbles out of the bar after last call fumblng for his keys and eliot is there; leaning against the SUV and looking unimpressed#once hardison hears something strange from the basement—when he goes to investigate he finds eliot working out#to a playlist of hardison’s techno remixes#one of parker’s old foster homes burns down; the one she Doesn’t Talk About—eliot comes in the next day smelling of smoke#”……what I spent the weekend making barbeque why do you even care man?”#I’M IN IT FOR THE MONEY eliot insists to literally no one listening (via thebloggingjob)

Posted in full at: http://eemilyvr1.tumblr.com/post/112189129093
azurelunatic: California poppies. (California girl)
[personal profile] azurelunatic
Dragged in to work later than I thought I might, from when I woke up.

Helldesk is helldesk.

Lunch with Purple was fun; there's a new high-level dev who had joined the table, and was going on at some length about C++. Also his two months in India as a white guy (to a >50% Indian lunch table; Purple and Lennon Glasses Guy and I were the other <50%). It was entertaining as someone who's never been; from the reactions of the rest of the table, it was thigh-slappingly hysterical to a local.

Sat down with Madam Standards and talked about the party.

Sat down with the computer and swore a lot.

Then there was a guest speaker. I walked there with Purple. Mr. Zune joined us. The speaker was hilarious, and I only spilled a little lemonade on Purple & Mr. Zune.

Purple zipped out of work fast enough to forget to sign out of IM, which was a little surreal.

Helldesk may be granting me helpdesk-type privs, since my duties include keeping an eye on teammates' stuff. If that happens, I shall offer my services to #VirtualH.

I scrammed out early-ish, hit Costco for dinner fixings, then holed up at home. It took much too long to untangle my hair. No washer-fixing yet. I did fix my connection to #adventuresofstnono via the bouncer rather than direct.
eemilyvr1: (Default)
[personal profile] eemilyvr1
Goodbye, Kurt Hummel : [Week 2] Favorite Character Trait

"I refuse to be bullied. In fact, I refuse to let anyone be bullied."

Posted in full at: http://eemilyvr1.tumblr.com/post/112100102015
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
[personal profile] azurelunatic
Today I learned that in some localities, "mutton" means "this is a goat but we're calling it mutton anyway". I was the next person to join the table, making it two against two. One of the other two turned to Google.

Lunch finished up pretty quickly. I drifted by the table of Madam Standards, Non-Boring Manager, and Knives (the sarcastic visual designer). The Non-Boring Manager teased me a bit about whether I recognized him yet. I recognize his hat, but I get confused when I don't see the moustache. I then had to tell the story about that time when I didn't recognize "some woman" on the airplane headed to the family reunion. (My two years younger sister, who I'd last seen two years earlier, in different glasses.) My faceblindness cred is established.

Mr. Zune had a thing to show me. It was a classroom pointer with an orange foam hand with a pointer finger at the end. It is the best new thing in his life. He is pointing at all sorts of things with it. We were giggling helplessly. I told him a true thing to make him giggle harder.

There is a person in my life whose workplace has been having a plague with things like:

Speaker-to-Customers (to customer): Oh yes! Our dev has already implemented the thing!
Speaker-to-Customers (to dev): Sooooo I told the customer you'd already done this. You can get it done, right?
Dev: You owe me.

Speaker-to-Customers (to customer): Yeaaaahhhhh our dev fucked that up.
Speaker-to-Customers (to dev): So I fucked that up and I told the customer you fucked that up.
Dev: You're lucky that defenestration technically counts as murder, which is illegal in this state, because the window is right there.

Fortunately, when a person who appreciates such things gets the opportunity to enjoy a good solid flogging, this puts that person in a generally better frame of mind. And so, with this lead-up, when I whispered "The beatings should continue so morale remains improved," in Mr. Zune's ear, we collectively lost it giggling.

The Stage Manager had told us that he would be out of his office due to a thing involving customers, hosted by some of the same people who used to be in charge of the customer group that came to the erstwhile early Thursday monthly meetings. As he was telling Carmageddon, apparently it was a clusterfuck in terms of internal organization. He went into precise detail, and yeah, that's one of the ways a clusterfuck looks.

As a consolation, I sent him http://www.lauralemay.com/fiction/the-deadline.html which I thought would appeal. It did.

I nearly cried on the phone to helpdesk today, as I discovered a new and fascinating way in which a lack of horizontal scroll bar is fucking things up. The ticket is being escalated. I told the helpdesk lady (in deep frustration) that the helpdesk software was garbage, and then clarified that no, the helpdesk people are just fine (I may have been exaggerating) but the software is garbage and should be discarded. They are likewise frustrated. I thanked her for putting up with me.

I stomped off for milkshake. I was then joined (entirely through having seen me in passing) by lb, and (due to lb making faces at him through the window once he walked back in to his office) by Purple, and then (because he was biking in to work very late) by radius. The Angry Tattooed Man walked past also. lb's Overlady has had contact with the new people in charge of the helldesk software, and lb had thoughts and she agreed with them. radius had to be in the office today because tomorrow he's going up into the city to pay a visit to [personal profile] zorkian's office, though it's a large enough office that they may not come within pool-noodle-waving distance of each other. Also, "Neverland Ranch" is an unfortunate theme for a photo booth. One of the chairs was coming loose from its moorings, and was rusty. I filed a ticket. lb was having trouble staying upright while lounging in one of the chairs. I suggested he could superglue sand to his pants, the chair, or both. Then all he'd need would be WD-40. radius has made his mark on campus quite literally, due to the lack of warning signage the last time the lower parking lot was resurfaced. He'd thought something looked different in the gathering dusk, and realized a short ways before the zone: no lines! Fresh tar! So he braked, and only encroached his front wheel a few feet on the zone. It'll be there until the next time they resurface, just a little discontinuity.

Tiny Plaid Dude, who shares a first name with Haystack and has, like, size eleven enthusiasm in size five shoes, has proposed that there be a poster session during the conference during Madam Standards' party. I have expressed the following opinions:

To Tiny Plaid Dude, the suggestion that he discuss this with the party committee.
To Madam Standards, a heads-up that this proposition has been made, and a counter-suggestion that it would go super-much better during happy hour the following evening. Madam Standards is on board with that.

I tactfully asked Madam Standards whether there was any particular reason she had picked the Neverland photo booth out of the available photo booth options. It had been pretty much an ass-pull, so I have some counter-proposals. I am preparing a spreadsheet.

Things I am also preparing: site maps with dimensions, outlet locations, and other salient points so Madam Standards and the party committee can plot to their hearts' content. Later, we may have some tiny paper pieces to shove around to lay out furniture and stuff.

Purple called time before I did, this time, and we strolled out. We chatted about the general concept of comedians having to blunt their acts for a corporate audience, and how that might work in a specific case. Among, I'm sure, other things, but we were both ready to head home after not that much time.

I realized that I'd left my headset on my desk, but I do have a spare at home. I plugged the iPod into the tape deck adapter, after the headset in the car was flaky. I was early enough (just barely, and by taking 280 all the way rather than 35 along the ridge) to refuel. It's always easier at night, so I am planning to do that when possible. Saves time. Saves stress on me.

The washer now has zero things on top of it, so when the guy(s) come to check it out, it should be no problem for them. Also I laid out tomorrow's outfit and got laundry sorted and hung up. And made my step count via bouncy-ball. And am getting significant inroads on tomorrow's (I just hit 1/4). Last night I did quite a few dishes and trimmed my bangs. I'm not sure where the sudden burst of productivity is coming from, but I shan't argue with it.

tribunaldonatello06: The Witnesses

Feb. 24th, 2015 10:11 pm
eemilyvr1: (Default)
[personal profile] eemilyvr1
tribunaldonatello06:

The Witnesses

Posted in full at: http://eemilyvr1.tumblr.com/post/112009923167

a bright light across the horizon

Feb. 24th, 2015 12:54 am
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
[personal profile] azurelunatic
00:31 Sunday, 22 February, 2015
While Purple and I were hanging out in the parking lot the other night, we mentioned that we hadn't heard owls in a while. Immediately thereafter, there was a screech. Owls.

00:10 Tuesday, 24 February, 2015
Heard back from the place where I applied. I don't know if there are any other blockers, but I would need the raise before they could accept me. Agh. (My 1:1 for tomorrow is canceled on account of the flu, on the part of my manager.)

This morning was canceled for me, on account of allergies. I woke up before my alarm in an amazing state of allergy snot. I took a claritin and washed out my nose, but it took a while to actually be able to sleep. When I did wake up, it was afternoon.

I grabbed some lunch and came in, and headed up for milkshake at the appointed time (as soon as I looked at Purple's IM status to ask him if he was heading soon, and saw that he'd been idle for five) and it was good. I wound up walking up with my administrative friend, There was shirt color silliness, as everyone when I arrived was not matching. Purple was maroon, lb was purple, I was (per usual) black. When Mr. Zune arrived, he was green. "So what color shirt is radius wearing today?" we greeted him.

This was an unusual enough greeting to make him threaten to leave us, but after we "explained" (that we were being nonsensical), he guessed black. lb guessed orange (as he is vaguely aware that radius owns an orange shirt). When radius arrived, I said, "You're right!" to Mr. Zune. The shirt was in fact darkish grey. "Light black?" someone said. It was a bit of a running joke that afternoon.

Australia is, in fact, trying to kill everyone. phone's train was canceled on account of it was hit by lightning. We made radius attempt to explain these things to us.

Later, there was a different, and sadder, kind of train problem closer to home. When Caltrain meets a vehicle on the tracks, nobody wins, but physics favors Caltrain. Twitter tells me that two people died, one in the first collision and another in a subsequent one.

Conference planning continues.
Research planning continues.
Evaluation of the potential new tool continues.
The people responsible for the helldesk tool will get back to me about two questions I have had.
Closing a window did not fix the weird howling fan problem audible from radius's office.
The mood lighting in radius and Purple's building's bathroom has been fixed.

Five years -- nearly six, now -- is a long time. Fishie doesn't fully remember those early days anymore, so it's part of my duty as a fishmum to point out some of the changes I've noticed between then and now, and what I think of them. I am so, so proud of her.

Purple had some last-minute stuff for an internal papers thing, and I was on the point of grabbing one of his favorite candies and heading over to his building to say goodnight and I was going the hell home, when he finished up, and we wound up in the chilly parking lot.

I saw a meteor, but by the time he turned around, it had gone from a green-white streak into a collection of orange sparks and vanished.

We laughed about cats and hens and dogs and terrible/hilarious tv shows, then headed off for dinner and home.

djhokage:Tony Stark

Feb. 23rd, 2015 03:03 am
eemilyvr1: (Default)
[personal profile] eemilyvr1
djhokage:

Tony Stark

Posted in full at: http://eemilyvr1.tumblr.com/post/111918116015
azurelunatic: Operation 'This will most likely end badly' is a go. (end badly)
[personal profile] azurelunatic
http://waldorph.tumblr.com/post/111844405768/whatre-we-calling-this-theoryofficgate-i-like

So some student-led class at one of my charming local universities has decided to teach fanfiction. This has come to the attention of my circles courtesy of a torrent of really obnoxiously critical comments left on a few select fics.

As an author, one does take on certain risks when posting anything in public online. However, solicitation of people to go and post shitty things in someone else's space is a dick move. I also think that we can agree that college students who have not mastered constructive criticism are highly likely to say shitty things in the attempt to engage critically. Furthermore, some (not all, but quite a few) fannish spaces have a convention of saying the nice things in the author's space in public, and either sending critical things in private, putting them in your own space, or just not saying them at all (at least in connection to the author) unless the author has asked for it.

If you're trying to interact helpfully with fandom and you send a torrent of kids who have been instructed to be "critical" and are likely to poke their thumb in someone's eye by accident while doing so into a fannish space, you, honorable sentient, are being a dick.

1) Don't require your students to leave a comment. If you need to prove they've interacted with the fic, require them to leave kudos.

2) Instruct them to be good citizens when leaving comments, if they leave comments at all. As academics, you are guests in fandom. As the fandom guide of people who have not internalized fandom mores, you have the responsibility to tell the students about things like this, and what sorts of things are unacceptable in this culture. Don't be a shitbrick.

3) By all means, have them interact critically with the text. Require them to either make their own space -- livejournal, dreamwidth, tumblr, blogspot, facebook -- and post the criticism there, post it to an online space reserved for the class, or send it directly to the instructor. Having your students leave it as a comment is like taking all the critical freshman essays on Moby-Dick/Finnegans Wake/The Fountainhead and packing them up into a tidy bundle and sending them to Herman Melville/James Joyce/Ayn Rand, marked "IMPORTANT FEEDBACK - PLEASE READ". Except those authors are actually dead.
eemilyvr1: (Default)
[personal profile] eemilyvr1
yoyomarules:

#low key superhero (via trashybooksforladies)

Posted in full at: http://eemilyvr1.tumblr.com/post/111822723629

all of buffy → badass buffy 

Feb. 21st, 2015 10:01 pm
eemilyvr1: (Default)
[personal profile] eemilyvr1
all of buffy → badass buffy   ↪ "I’m going to kill them all. That ought to distract them."

Posted in full at: http://eemilyvr1.tumblr.com/post/111717868751

He's Got a Little List.

Feb. 21st, 2015 03:56 am
azurelunatic: Prayer to the Bastard from Lois McMaster Bujold's Paladin of Souls (bastard)
[personal profile] azurelunatic
It was an early lunch day for Purple (as he is filling in for some teammates who are out-of-state, because somebody's got to teach the class), so I had lunch with bits of my team. That was fun; the Stage Manager's company in particular is great. (Later I sent him a link to a particularly sarcastic coffee cup I thought would be up his alley. It was.)

It turns out that not including the things of other people's which I'm keeping a side-eye on, I have 95 tickets in the new helldesk system which are in a non-closed state. I know this because the first page is 100 items, and I sorted by status. Closed falls to the bottom. There were 5 closed tickets on the first page.

Beer bash was Lunar New Year themed. There is always a big celebration, with costumes, dancing, music, and a general good time had by all. I walked down with Purple and some of the guys. radius joined us briefly. The guy on the emergency team stopped by to chat. My friend over thattaway said hello, as did one of her teammates, the tall soft-spoken gamerdude. Lennon Glasses Guy showed up.

Eventually as things cleared out, I spotted that one of the benches had cleared. I claimed it in the name of ... well, myself, I guess. Purple and Lennon Glasses Guy followed. The Dean wandered over. He always does so much for these things. I hugged him enthusiastically enough that his sneakers cleared the ground by maybe a foot. We talked about movie night plans. As he bounced off through the crowd like a pinball, I could hear in his wake one of his people start explaining the premise of "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep" to the other. Heh.

As Purple and I walked back, the newest member of my team waved at me. I waved back. Then she waved again, possibly at Purple, who had been teaching a session of Hella New Graduate Bootcamp which she'd shown interest in, but since there is not much on that thing for a front end person to do, he had regretfully told her same. (As stringing your front-end people along often offends.)

The sunset was beautiful. We stared up at the sky for a while. Unfortunately, I should not have been attempting to move while staring up at the sky, and my equilibrium informed me that I would be sitting down with some immediacy. Fortunately, there was a bench right there. I maneuvered over to it and sat down with very little ceremony. Purple had been under the impression that my descent was far less well-piloted than it actually was, and had been impressed that I had navigated backwards with that amount of accuracy while minus that amount of balance. We waited for a bit, and looked at the excellent sliver of a moon and Venus nearby.

There were various things which needed wrapping up. I came back to discover that someone, possibly the Stage Manager, had turned off the Beacon. It was, after all, the weekend, and while my enigmatic whiteboard declared that I had not yet left, my cube did look somewhat like I was gone. So when Purple came to walk out with me later, there was nothing left for him to turn off.

I'd asked Purple what his time to leave looked like, and let him know that despite the delicious food at the party, I was going to be ravenously hungry in about an hour and a half. He wasn't, and had already declined dinner. So we had nowhere in particular to go. In the parking lot, we chatted of many things!

It's lovely to be having more grown-up conversations with the fishie. Sometimes this results in swearing about fishie's mother to Purple. Tonight I'd explained to fishie my thoughts on body-birth as applies to me. I was twenty when I resolved the thing which had me determined to never have a child. Absent that,I would be willing to consider the possibility with the right partner who was actively interested in children, given the following caveats: Read more... ). But other than those little issues! So I rehashed that to Purple, and then we got on gender and how both of us had basically infinitesimal amounts of gender-role-policing at home (and then I entered public school). And the gender of inanimate objects. And that scene in Something About Mary, and how actually hair gel? Often kinda crusty when it dries, if it's bad hair gel. And Doing Polyamory Wrong and how toothpaste is better than hotsauce for certain obnoxious applications.

If I'm not lucky, the dudes will come to look at my launderizer while I'm asleep. This is a matter of unluckiness because knocking on my door is a great way to wake me up in a panic. Fortunately, the vast majority of my pajamas are things that I can answer the door while wearing.

I'm still apartment-stressing a bit. Purple asked innocently whether roommates were an option, and oh lord the baggage that unloaded. (Long story very short: I'm not really friends with my last ex-roommates anymore, and I'm pretty convinced that the greater burden of fuckup was on me.) He pulled me over to him and patted me on the shoulder while I stuck my face under his arm like Calico for a bit.

So while we were discussing points about which I am emotionally vulnerable, I told him about the thing I didn't tell him about in front of his not!boyfriend, which involves both a phobia I have and the most likely origin. "So if I suddenly change the topic if [phobia]* comes up, that's why," I told him. Purple immediately apologized for having made me do so in the past, even though to the best of my memory it's been, like, once. He then started attempting to mention that he has a problem (not phobia-level, but a problem) with the same topic; I managed to verbally collide with him, and mentioned that I was aware of the kink for this which exists.

Purple had not heard about this kink.

Purple is generally pretty chill about hearing about the existence of, and general presence in his friends' lives, of sexual practices and/or kinks which he himself has zero to negative interest in experiencing or exploring. (Though there is such a thing as Way Too Much Personal Information.) He does, however, have a list of things where if he hears you are into them, he's not sure he can be friends with you anymore. That list is pretty short. The first two items on the list. ) Those are the main two that he has a moral objection to; most of the rest is more a WHAT NO EWW instant squick reaction from the parts of his brain he doesn't get much of a say over.

That kink has now gone on Purple's OMFG NO list.

* I'm not naming what exactly it is in public for a couple reasons. Read more... )

That had got us off emotional vulnerability into hilarious directions, and we got into our cars. (Purple hit himself in the shin with his car door, occasioning some swearing.) I was starting Vash up when I saw Purple stop and get out of his car. So I turned Vash off and kept him company while he re-inflated his tire. He's been having some car-stress, and the tire's been the tip of the iceberg. Woe.

I was only about an hour off on my estimation, because we'd been hanging out chatting in the parking lot so long. I dropped in the grocery store for bread and eggs and a bit of produce, because I had enough energy to cook. And lo, it was good, and there are leftovers for morning.
eemilyvr1: (Default)
[personal profile] eemilyvr1
24-year-old  g e n i u s   with a smartphone and a problem with authority.

↳make me choose: archiegoodwins asked: eliot or hardison. 

Posted in full at: http://eemilyvr1.tumblr.com/post/111619740876

Today I am the "helpful" one!

Feb. 20th, 2015 12:37 am
azurelunatic: California poppies. (poppies)
[personal profile] azurelunatic
21:42 Saturday, 14 February, 2015
Cleaning for packing prep and inspection on Tuesday.

13:40 Sunday, 15 February, 2015
Every time I get space cleared on the bookshelf via packing, it seems like I find more hidden books.

01:55 Thursday, 19 February, 2015
Did the kitchen floor, so that'll be Different And Cleaner when inspection-time today-afternoon. Hrmf.

22:50 Thursday, 19 February, 2015
So today was second-scheduled-inspection (the scheduling was posted before first-inspection). No notes related to that, and things are Visibly More Tidy from Tuesday.

However, related I think to the "investor" part of the Investor Inspections, I did get an email saying that HEY GUESS WHAAAAAT, rent goes up in May.

Therefore I submitted my application for the place I toured tonight, via internet, with a follow-up note to the lady I toured with, saying that even though I don't have the raise I was hoping for just yet, I'm applying anyway because rent here for a fucking studio is going to be more than rent there for a one-bedroom. Fuck-a-doodle-doo.

I was planning to get in early to help the guy who's organizing the content for my team's little conference. Sleep did not work out so well in the "early" part of this description. I got in a little earlier than usual, though.

The task was to send out the call for proposals. First was the email; I suggested a few extra people who should know, and helped locate some guy with a fearfully WASP first name who was in charge of a department and pretty much unsearchable unless you already knew who he was. Then we did not!Facebook. I tweaked some settings, showed him what to pick and where to put it, and weeee're off! I got to lunch only 5 minutes after I planned.

The person doing the sandwich station was also the person doing salad, and gave me a green salad without red peppers. Score! I sat down with my team. Half of the group left after a bit. After another bit, I joined Purple's group, who had settled at the next table over.

We both had Things to Do after lunch. Purple's was a bit after mine. Both involved going uphill. I took a shuttle there. He, apparently, walked.

Met with the lady from Events, the Commandant, and Madam Standards to look over the venue again. We exchanged various information and had a lot of questions. A return visit with better maps and my tape measure will doubtless ensue. My teammates and I walked back together. I pointed out somewhat firmly that I Could Not Do Those Stairs, and we took the elevator.

By that time it was nigh unto Milkshake O'Clock. radius met me at the Near Site. It was in fact not milkshake o'clock, as there was a Large Management Event going on in the cafeteria, and it was not a time for blender-related operations. So we took our unblended ice cream outside to the fire pit, where we chilled happily.

Just as I was busily filing a ticket from my phone, a looming shape carrying a laptop bag and a red shirt approached and plopped down in a chair across the fire pit from me. Purple had seen us hanging around and decided to join. I filed my own ticket, then started filing radius's ticket about lights out in a downstairs men's room. radius then got up and went into the building to confirm that it wasn't just a case of the lights being switched off. Purple promptly informed me that I was helpful like a ferret in a bowlful of packing peanuts.

Purple's day had included not one round trip up the hill, but two: the computer situation there had been dire, so he zoomed back to fetch his laptop. He was Somewhat Put Out at the reality of two trips, as he is not used to this. (Meanwhile, my stamina is building up to the point where that might actually not completely destroy me. Yay, stamina!)

After some nice chat, we split back to our respective desks.

There was some good news about Borderlands Books. Why yes, I do enjoy the concept of a reserved seat at various [livejournal.com profile] seanan_mcguire events!! I became happy that I have taken to carrying my checkbook around.

Purple pinged me while I was almost still going strong. We walked out and Purple dumped his laptop in his trunk and then escorted me to Vash. I told him a mildly explicit story about the time Shawn almost kissed me. And I put the pieces together about how I wasn't allowed opinions around Shawn, and how despite our chemistry in other respects, also mildly explicit ). Subsequent lovers demonstrated that The Problem Was Not Exactly Me. Apparently it works better when I'm allowed opinions.

I nearly started crying in the parking lot.

Before that happened, though, we were hailed, and The Other Guy barged across the parking lot, and we spent some enjoyable minutes cursing about the travails of trying to maintain php created by Those Guys (as opposed to Us).

I got my hug and came home, via Costco gas. Now I am trying to increment my step count via my abs. I have filed that ticket about my launderizer, and told Purple. His turn to address that tire. <3

"waves a crayfish" takes hold

Feb. 19th, 2015 01:07 am
azurelunatic: Azz and best friend grabbing each other's noses.  (Default)
[personal profile] azurelunatic
Apartment remains cluttered but Less Dire. Attempted to get up at a vaguely diurnal time. It didn't happen. Went to work. Noticed that my friend the Singing Project Manager had dropped off one of her spare ice packs with me. (She'd advertised on [off-topic], because she gets one of those recipe subscription things, and they come with hella ice packs.)

Purple had the thing he was doing with new hires, so I dragged lunch back to my desk. I poked at conference stuff. My manager had questions about some equipment ordering, and dispatched me to go talk to our desktop support guys and ask how exactly the best (for them, since they get the brunt) way is to order a hella number of equipment. I detoured by the desk of the Singing PM and gave her some chocolate. She said if [off-topic] hadn't claimed the rest of the ice packs by the end of the day, she'd leave them with me. Local helpdesk was not in. I dropped some diplomacy off with Mr. Zune, and agreed on a time for milkshake.

I came back to #cupcake to see:
(14:31) radius: [local cafeteria] milkshakescapade at 2:40-ish?
(14:36) radius: Maybe that was not sufficient advance notice... 3:00ish instead?
(14:37) zune: 3ish sounds good to me
(14:37) ajl: 3ish was the time I proposed to zune, so sounds good to me also

radius joined us, and we soaked up a bit of sun, then went to see whether the new couch in the quiet room had been cleaned. However, there was someone being quiet in there (on something with a bright screen) so we detoured to the pinball room instead. Mr. Zune played a round of pinball, and radius and I demonstrated our mutual incompetence at foosball. We didn't keep score. The game was eventually called on account of me collapsing against the wall in giggles.

Couch. )

The quiet room was empty, so we poked our heads in. The stain is still visible, but less visible. radius tested whether it was him-sized (he is hella tall). It was! Instead of napping, though, he let me in on the method of getting up to the mail room ceilings (counter-scrambling at dawn).

#cupcake:
(15:09) pkeeper: heee
(16:19) ***ajl eyes pkeeper
(16:19) ***ajl proposed milkshake, not propositioned marriage :-P
(16:21) pkeeper: well, unless his GF is REALLY open minded, I kinda
figured out what you meant
(16:23) ***ajl isn't looking for that level of committment at the moment
(16:29) pkeeper: that said I don't want to venture what a milkshake proposal might be a euphemism for...
(16:29) ***ajl whacks in pkeeper's general direction with a pool noodles
(16:29) zune: oh my...
(16:30) ***radius waves a crayfish.

Conference stuff is poised on the edge of the call-for-papers, and the flurry associated therewith. I tripped over a bit of Slack UI weirdness and dutifully reported it to their people. Since "their people" and the set of people allowed to read my locked stuff has a slight intersection, while the account is in my workname, I signed it, "Love, Azure Jane L." in the hopes that if the intersection did hit, it would be a friendly little cupcake moment. I also sent a somewhat more exasperated request-for-improvement to not!Facebook, because I'd just run into a thing which didn't work on mobile. Pro tip: when your fucking dialog overflows the goddamn edge of the motherfucking screen, it helps absolute none when you can neither scroll nor fucking resize. I figured I'd just rotate the screen. It was still too goddamn wide. Snotfuckers. I ran into that bit while eating ice cream in the courtyard, and my sudden explosion of profanity clued Mr. Zune and radius into the likelihood that either there was an email from somewhere in the depths of the helldesk, or I'd run into another fine little bug.

Earlier in the day, Researcher Sweatervest had sent out a New Year's email announcing that he'd left honey dates on the collaboration table, with many pictures of ... rams? goats? sheep? and general celebratory sentiments. The actual leaving of dates was somewhat more afternoon-ish. One of the designers had been sad about missing the dates when she hadn't seen any earlier, so I brought one for her. She traded me for huckleberry saltwater taffy. I saved one for Purple.

Outlook Web Access and Firefox are not getting along. Specifically, when you put deliberate whitespace in an email, OWA + Firefox don't let you, instead of going along with the whole non-breaking-space idea or whatever. The fix is some back-end thing that has to be applied to the server. Earlier this week, I came back and found that the mofo had been closed. I re-opened it and requested that we be given insight to whatever it is that they're using to track the issue. Yesterday I called and asked for an update and to be added as a watcher. This morning, I found they'd closed the mofo again. radius said this afternoon that it was open. I looked and it was still closed. Turns out, the parent ticket was closed while the second child incident was open. I called the helpdesk to find out what the ever-loving *fuck*. I was not especially convinced that the helpdesk guy's claims that the closure of the containing unit would leave the internal items in a state to be acted on, as it had the distinct sound of this-fact-i-just-made-up. But it was re-opened, so that was good.

You can add custom emoji to your Slack instance. One of the guys has already added Kool-Aid Man. I was looking for pictures relevant to pool noodles when I ran into something that I couldn't emojify, but that did make me laugh for longer than 15 seconds, and made me feel all warm inside. I'm part of a community. Then I had to explain "LART" to Purple.

The Singing PM came by with the unclaimed ice packs. Unfortunately, one of them was sliced. I'd just cleaned up the leaking gel from a hole poked into the first one (and patched it with packing tape). The new one got a glorious mess of gel all over, and after disposing of it, we repaired to the bathroom to get it off us, our clothes, and her scissors. I reported back to IRC that ice packs were the new couchbuttering.

Someone has driven some sort of power lift inside the building. Apparently there's about 2-3" of clearance for it to get through the double doors, and you have to tear down a cube or two to get it inside. It was a topic of discussion on [off-topic], so Lennon Glasses Guy and I went to see it. Later, I came back to take pictures for posterity. It's not every day, etc. etc.

Lift. )

It felt like a Thursday, even though it was the Wednesday of a week shortened on the front end. Purple walked me out as per usual. He walked me all the way to my car, as my knees and ankle were all feeling somewhat poorly. There was silliness, including South Park on plastic surgery, some inadvisable forms of counterweight bra, and some relatively serious breast reduction chatter.

I was short on laundry, so I put it in despite wanting to make a relatively early night of it. Then I vacuumed and tidied a little bit more, both while the laundry was going and after. Soon, it will be time for showering and snoozing, and then see what time I can get up in the morning.
eemilyvr1: (Default)
[personal profile] eemilyvr1
rubbersoul333:

I was drawing a realistic Frodo but he looked like hell so here’s a doodle-ish anime Legolas and Gimli.

Posted in full at: http://eemilyvr1.tumblr.com/post/111432033390

Fastest thing on two ... uh.

Feb. 17th, 2015 11:30 pm
azurelunatic: Cover of O'Reilly's Owl Book. O RLY?  (O RLY)
[personal profile] azurelunatic
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.
eemilyvr1: (Default)
[personal profile] eemilyvr1
The saddest world in the whole wide world, is the word almost. He was almost in love, he was almost good for him, he almost stopped him, he almost waited, they almost made it. [insp] 

Posted in full at: http://eemilyvr1.tumblr.com/post/111337328919
eemilyvr1: (Default)
[personal profile] eemilyvr1
amx004qubeley:

fughtopia:

salon:

As a sniper I was not usually the victim of a traumatic event, but the perpetrator of violence and death. My actions in combat would have been more acceptable to me if I could cloak myself in the belief that the whole mission was for a greater good. Instead, I watched as the purpose of the mission slowly unraveled.

The non-propaganda version of what it’s like to be an American sniper.

Excerpt; During my combat tour I never saw the Iraqis as “savages.” They were a friendly culture who believed in hospitality, and were sometimes positive to a fault. The people are proud of their history, education system and national identity. I have listened to children share old-soul wisdom, and I have watched adults laugh and play with the naiveté of schoolboys. I met some incredible Iraqis during and after my deployment, and it is shameful to know that the movie has furthered ignorance that might put them in danger.

…As a sniper I was not usually the victim of a traumatic event, but the perpetrator of violence and death. My actions in combat would have been more acceptable to me if I could cloak myself in the belief that the whole mission was for a greater good. Instead, I watched as the purpose of the mission slowly unraveled.

I served in Iraq from 2004 to 2005. During that time, we started to realize there were no weapons of mass destruction, the 9/11 commission report determined that Iraq was not involved in the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, false sovereignty was given to Iraq by Paul Bremer, the atrocities at Abu Ghraib were exposed, and the Battle of Fallujah was waged.

The destruction I took part in suddenly intersected with news that our reasons for waging war were untrue. The despicable conduct of those at Abu Ghraib was made more unforgivable by the honorable interactions I had with Iraqi civilians, and, together, it fueled the post-traumatic stress I struggle with today.

soldiers speaking out like this is pretty rare. dont ignore this post.

Posted in full at: http://eemilyvr1.tumblr.com/post/111336277870

Profile

apocalypsos: (Default)
tatty bojangles

November 2014

S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9 101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
30      

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags