November 2nd, 2004

ieee coin

Work

Went to work. Monitored. There will be a new monitor, evidently -- Ponytail Guy Monitor. I like him.

Shared a monitor room with the Trader Joe's Queen Monitor. TJ's Queen Monitor bitched about the busted keyboard in room 1. We shared stories and had a good time in general.

She is not the best computer person in the world; she had several different computer errors. I was able to detangle all of them.

She had a computer error when just sitting on a screen getting ready to submit something -- I saw from the URL that her browser tried to go to that her browser had been hijacked by Microsoft for some obscure reason, and since the monitor rooms don't have connectivity to the outside internet, this had not gone well. I had her back the screen up, note down the actual start and stop times of the monitoring session in the comments form, try printing the page then and there (to preserve it should it cause another error) and then try submitting it.

Much to my surprise, the page went through. I had her go and give the sheet to the Tired & Grouchy Lady Shift Ops Super to be sure it could be edited or some such thing. Evidently she went to both the Shift Ops Super and the Monitor Shift Lead, and both of them said the same thing: "If Azure says that's what to do, then it's OK." I'm evidently the expert around these parts, then. The thought both fascinates and scares me.

The second error was something similar, but with a different URL. Evidently I'm good at helping TJ's Queen Monitor with her computer woes; most people take over and treat her like she's an utter computer idiot. I'm good at explaining things quietly so she can do them.

I went on break late, and wound up talking computers with the guy who does such a good job on $ISSUE_SIDE_JOB. I mentioned my ambition of getting in while the getting's good with LJ; working as a geek for LJ would be pretty much my dream geek job. Evidently he knows LJ, and even has one. I gave him my handle, and zoomed back from break 5 minutes on the wrong side of on time. (Ooops.)

There was an equipment error that coincided with a Raw N00b error -- someone learned the hard way that when someone hangs up on you midway through a survey, that is not the time to pretend they're still on the line and be entering answers that they didn't give. I learned the hard way that just because a tape recorder picks up the dial tone and the "you're going to have to hang up because the phone system doesn't like what you just entered" tone just fine, that doesn't mean that it picks up voice just fine. Argh. I had to crank the thing to 10 and hold my ear to it to pick out the voice from the tape hiss. Argh.

I came home from work with a random embarrassment to use later on. Hooray, random embarrassments! They're sort of like random monsters, only the screen doesn't go all swirly when they have to deal with them.
twilight, Fairbanks to Phoenix, two worlds

Four Years

Four years ago, I showed up in Sky Harbor tired, cranky, and awestruck at Arizona.

I've been here four years now. I'm a different woman than the girl who squinted at the screaming sun and marveled at the palm trees, the warmth, the green. Somehow, the dizzying city has become home. The people in my head have coalesced and then blossomed again, in a direction more me than I was becoming four years ago.

A year and a day ago (approximately), I stood tall as shackles of my own making clicked gently and fell off, leaving me a free agent. I'd chained myself to life, by necessity, to the only stable tether-point I could find. Today I'm both reasonably free (I've still obligations for another half-year) and alive.

Saturday, I was cared for, cherished.
Today, I was told by my landlady that we've come a long way in the past three and a half years. We're not as poor, we're closer to our goals, we have goals... we're stronger, in general. More mature.
Tonight, I walked home from work and reflected how long I've been here.
documentation, writing, quill

And in the first 24 hours....

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
4,275 / 100,000
(4.0%)


Current situation: Beatrice is about to dive into Ben and Richard's closet, and Marianne will be tossed there on top of her. Post-sex grossness will abound, and media will be confiscated.

I'm enjoying the fact that since this is all about the torture of these poor characters, I can think, "Oh, they're scared that such and such will happen -- but I'd never do that to these poor lambs," and then I realize that since this is indeed about doing that to these poor lambs, and I don't have a fixed plot that going off-track into a This Can't Be Happening moment can screw up (my outlines are mere suggestions). Then I giggle in the most evil possible way, and I make bad things happen, worse than they imagined.

amberfox thinks I'm cruel and unusual.

After things calm down around here (fortunately, I don't have to go in early tomorrow) I'll start posting this in the community. Membership is at my descretion, and I'll probably only add those people I think of as potential betas anyway, but it doesn't hurt to ask if you'd seriously like to catch a glimpse of all the crazygonuts action. amberfox, iroshi, sithjawa, tyrantmouth, easalle -- you guys are definitely cool with me to read this nuttiness if you want to. swallowtayle, this is even more insane than my usual. Darkside, if you're reading this, you're more than welcome to get a freaking LJ so I can let you see the locked stuff.
Azzlibrarian

Tuesday Morning Errands

Woke up well before my alarm clock. Tried to go back to sleep. Failed my saving throw against wakefulness, got up anyway. Learned my polling place was open at 6 am, rather than 7 as I'd thought. Went early.

I stood in a reasonable line. Part of the difficulty with line length was staffing. The election officials at this polling place were obviously from the community -- not a one of them was a day under 60, and the person with the binder with the voter names and addresses was doing a lot of squinting and peering. (The polling place is in the office of the retirement community adjacent to my apartment complex.)

Black hoodie count: one.

Arizona uses the sensible machines -- paper ballot with pens and arrows to fill in the blanks, and an electronic scanner. The ballot had legitimately-spaced arrows -- I checked. I donated my ballpoint to the greater good, and left it in the voting booth on purpose.

After that, I headed out and gave plasma. I got there early. I went and stood with the nonsmokers (there's a specific guy who can't be around smoke if he's going to have his pulse low enough to donate). Just as I was teasing the guy in scrubs about the weather, a fellow with a large and smoky cigar came straight for the nonsmoker group. The heart rate nonsmoker, the guy in the scrubs, and I all scattered in different directions, well away from the guy with the cigar. The heart rate nonsmoker explained the situation to him from a distance. It was like human billiards. We reconvened after the cigar guy put the thing out. We were all amused.
  • Current Music
    something from marxdarx's computer
running, bomb tech

Work vs. Election

I'm in a workplace where people will occasionally write the currect sports scores on the whiteboard in the bullpen. One of the standard "call back the next day" situations is game day.

I think things are going to be interesting today, and perhaps people may get artistic with the red and blue markers.