don't touch it! it's the history eraser button, you fool!
You know those moments when you're just so busy at work, you just have no time for the net, answering email, talking with folks...? Yeah. I'm so there. Right now, we have fewer volunteers and more staff (and long-term interns, what am me) running ragged than ever before, I think, and it's contributing to long, hot, brutally draining days that makes it hard to get up the next morning and smile through the day.
And those here what know me know--smiling and being perky are not my usual social skills--I'm more generally fueled by snark and cynicism.
Plus, we've been just buried. BURIED. In other words, in addition to folks randomly dropping off twenty monitors and sixty-five computers, we've got about forty tower cases just hanging out in the very narrow hallway, waiting to go into Eval I, and we've got a good thirteen boxes of random and assorted wires, cables, and compu-crap taking up space in a very large central pile in Receiving.
Then there's me--who somehow, needs to manifest time in my oh-so-suddenly-busy life to contact everyone I need to contact for the upcoming Geek Fair, but also to park my ass in Receiving to help folks out there. Wau. I've been splitting the distance, and sitting there like a crazed fool, making labels and sending out emails as fast as my fingers can type. I think I sent out thirty-six emails yesterday to soapmakers alone, trying to get more "pampering" items for one of the baskets.
Here's how the basket idea is playing out, btw, and why I won't do it this way again:
* Baby Basket. NOTHING. ZIP, NADA, ZERO. Potentially giving up on that in another three days, just to give folks a full two weeks to not write back.
* Pampered Woman Basket. ONE THING, and that one thing won't stand up without the other things, so that may be toast also.
* Kids' Science Basket. DONE--and honestly, it's only because I thought to ask the Learning Palace folks if they wanted to help out. And they sent together enough on their own to make the whole science basket. Neeeeeat.
Otherwise? Slow going, man, slow going. None of the local artistic folks I asked have answered back. Most of the emails sent out over the past two weeks haven't even been answered. It's very depressing.
On the plus side, the artistic goddess who is behind Morbid Tendencies cackled in abject glee, when last contacted--seems I'm the only one with solid input on what we're going to get, because no one else on Outreach wanted to give me an actual opinion. So I told her--okay, you'd already said conjoined critter, so let's go ahead and make it vaguely bunny-shaped, though no restriction on actual bunnydom, and track down the loudest, most obnoxiously-colored fabric you have. Do that up for your donation to us.
You don't often hear the sound of a woman rubbing her hands together and snickering, but I did in her reply back. So--considering we've opted formally, via ME, to do this outrageously-colored thing, now she's thinking she can make it bigger and showier, because it won't be her strongly desired fabrics. Get what she means? So we may be receiving a HUGE weird thing in the mail, and all she wants is a picture of the recipient. Daaaang.
Random statement from a Free Geek list (no names mentioned to protect identity, but the funny was worth preserving):
Seems folks want to have more meetings outside FG operating hours, which is a great way to make sure (be back in a minute) things (gotta go, my shift is starting) get (omigawd, the FAX machine is on fire!) done.
Hee!
And I'm not the only one who's having problems--in addition to the multi-staff-member demi-collapse throughout this week (and no, NOT naming names, THANK you!), there's also the personal stuph--like the very dear friend and sysop encap who's got this weird job situation unfolding at his cellular company. Actual quote from his recent limbo existence:
"It's like some kind of reverse custody battle, where neither Mommy nor Daddy want me."
In essence, he wants to move down here; his job wants him to move down here; the hang-up is everyone's fighting on who gets not to have him in their district.
Which is freakish, the way it sounds, because here's a guy who walked in knowing nothing about the job for which he applied, and, when handed a manual, said, "Sure, give me the weekend." He went home, studied his brains out, and he's been his usual gifted self ever since.
Why there would be this "No you take him--No, YOU take him" game of job keep-a-way going on...is mystifying to the me.
And I took the pirate quiz again:
My pirate name is:
Mad Bess Bonney
Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!
Get your own pirate name from fidius.org.
BWAHAHAhaha...
Some random Fug-worthy links.
Apparently her wardrobe people are calling it a belt malfunction. I guess we can all be glad she didn't have a bra that could fall right off, or something.
Warm weather is not really an open invitation to, well, issue an open invitation. Whoa.
As the Fuggers said...SWEET BUTTERED MOSES ON FANCY TOAST.
I tend to agree--what is up with those shoes?!? And I don't normally obsess over shoe things.
This exceptional debacle is quite possibly her way of compensating. Maybe.
And we end this with the weird and still pretty much unknown Bobby Trendy, who has apparently started mass-slaying showgirls.
And the last three random pics from my Sekrit Info Source, and then I gotta get ready. Ish. (Well, the bus doesn't show up until eight or so, but...I need to get started on the eventual being-ready thing.)
So, apparently, this can be performed underwater, or, if you're really, really good, you can mimic the concept of water swirling around silk by swinging it around really fast and gracefully.
Neat.
A mainland Chinese performer of the Shaanxi Traditional Opera Research Institute performs "water sleeves" during the rehearsal for her upcoming performance in Hong Kong. (AP Photo/Kin Cheung) (May 16, 2006)
"Gunpowder" art, "blast" art or "dynamite" art, depending on who's talking, has been around for a long, long time. But this is interesting--this is huge. All those little bags are attached to wire and firing cord, and they'll all be detonated to leave the artistic impression.
Where the hell is something this huge going to be shown, that's what I want to know.
Btw? I have more support for China than I have ever, ever had...in a mass government decision, the go-ahead was given to formally adopt one single structure for all government computers and education centers.
That one single structure? Linux. Oh, the Microsoft snub, it burrrrrrns... :)
Cai Guoqiang, a 49-year-old New York-based Chinese artist, puts the final touches to what is claimed to be the world's largest gunpowder art work in Quanzhou, south China's Fujian province. Cai arranges the gunpowder in such a way that its explosion leaves burn marks to form an image. (AP Photo/EyePress) (May 14, 2006)
Seen in this rare image, Ricky Martin performs with his new third hand. Growing out of his head.
What? Come on, isn't that what you thought, too?
Puerto Rican born singer Ricky Martin performs during his first concert in Spain at the Pabellon Olimpic in Badalona near of Barcelona, Spain. (AP Photo/Manu Fernandez) (May 09, 2006)
And those here what know me know--smiling and being perky are not my usual social skills--I'm more generally fueled by snark and cynicism.
Plus, we've been just buried. BURIED. In other words, in addition to folks randomly dropping off twenty monitors and sixty-five computers, we've got about forty tower cases just hanging out in the very narrow hallway, waiting to go into Eval I, and we've got a good thirteen boxes of random and assorted wires, cables, and compu-crap taking up space in a very large central pile in Receiving.
Then there's me--who somehow, needs to manifest time in my oh-so-suddenly-busy life to contact everyone I need to contact for the upcoming Geek Fair, but also to park my ass in Receiving to help folks out there. Wau. I've been splitting the distance, and sitting there like a crazed fool, making labels and sending out emails as fast as my fingers can type. I think I sent out thirty-six emails yesterday to soapmakers alone, trying to get more "pampering" items for one of the baskets.
Here's how the basket idea is playing out, btw, and why I won't do it this way again:
* Baby Basket. NOTHING. ZIP, NADA, ZERO. Potentially giving up on that in another three days, just to give folks a full two weeks to not write back.
* Pampered Woman Basket. ONE THING, and that one thing won't stand up without the other things, so that may be toast also.
* Kids' Science Basket. DONE--and honestly, it's only because I thought to ask the Learning Palace folks if they wanted to help out. And they sent together enough on their own to make the whole science basket. Neeeeeat.
Otherwise? Slow going, man, slow going. None of the local artistic folks I asked have answered back. Most of the emails sent out over the past two weeks haven't even been answered. It's very depressing.
On the plus side, the artistic goddess who is behind Morbid Tendencies cackled in abject glee, when last contacted--seems I'm the only one with solid input on what we're going to get, because no one else on Outreach wanted to give me an actual opinion. So I told her--okay, you'd already said conjoined critter, so let's go ahead and make it vaguely bunny-shaped, though no restriction on actual bunnydom, and track down the loudest, most obnoxiously-colored fabric you have. Do that up for your donation to us.
You don't often hear the sound of a woman rubbing her hands together and snickering, but I did in her reply back. So--considering we've opted formally, via ME, to do this outrageously-colored thing, now she's thinking she can make it bigger and showier, because it won't be her strongly desired fabrics. Get what she means? So we may be receiving a HUGE weird thing in the mail, and all she wants is a picture of the recipient. Daaaang.
Random statement from a Free Geek list (no names mentioned to protect identity, but the funny was worth preserving):
Seems folks want to have more meetings outside FG operating hours, which is a great way to make sure (be back in a minute) things (gotta go, my shift is starting) get (omigawd, the FAX machine is on fire!) done.
Hee!
And I'm not the only one who's having problems--in addition to the multi-staff-member demi-collapse throughout this week (and no, NOT naming names, THANK you!), there's also the personal stuph--like the very dear friend and sysop encap who's got this weird job situation unfolding at his cellular company. Actual quote from his recent limbo existence:
"It's like some kind of reverse custody battle, where neither Mommy nor Daddy want me."
In essence, he wants to move down here; his job wants him to move down here; the hang-up is everyone's fighting on who gets not to have him in their district.
Which is freakish, the way it sounds, because here's a guy who walked in knowing nothing about the job for which he applied, and, when handed a manual, said, "Sure, give me the weekend." He went home, studied his brains out, and he's been his usual gifted self ever since.
Why there would be this "No you take him--No, YOU take him" game of job keep-a-way going on...is mystifying to the me.
And I took the pirate quiz again:
My pirate name is:
Mad Bess Bonney
Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!
Get your own pirate name from fidius.org.
BWAHAHAhaha...
Some random Fug-worthy links.
Apparently her wardrobe people are calling it a belt malfunction. I guess we can all be glad she didn't have a bra that could fall right off, or something.
Warm weather is not really an open invitation to, well, issue an open invitation. Whoa.
As the Fuggers said...SWEET BUTTERED MOSES ON FANCY TOAST.
I tend to agree--what is up with those shoes?!? And I don't normally obsess over shoe things.
This exceptional debacle is quite possibly her way of compensating. Maybe.
And we end this with the weird and still pretty much unknown Bobby Trendy, who has apparently started mass-slaying showgirls.
And the last three random pics from my Sekrit Info Source, and then I gotta get ready. Ish. (Well, the bus doesn't show up until eight or so, but...I need to get started on the eventual being-ready thing.)
So, apparently, this can be performed underwater, or, if you're really, really good, you can mimic the concept of water swirling around silk by swinging it around really fast and gracefully.
Neat.
A mainland Chinese performer of the Shaanxi Traditional Opera Research Institute performs "water sleeves" during the rehearsal for her upcoming performance in Hong Kong. (AP Photo/Kin Cheung) (May 16, 2006)
"Gunpowder" art, "blast" art or "dynamite" art, depending on who's talking, has been around for a long, long time. But this is interesting--this is huge. All those little bags are attached to wire and firing cord, and they'll all be detonated to leave the artistic impression.
Where the hell is something this huge going to be shown, that's what I want to know.
Btw? I have more support for China than I have ever, ever had...in a mass government decision, the go-ahead was given to formally adopt one single structure for all government computers and education centers.
That one single structure? Linux. Oh, the Microsoft snub, it burrrrrrns... :)
Cai Guoqiang, a 49-year-old New York-based Chinese artist, puts the final touches to what is claimed to be the world's largest gunpowder art work in Quanzhou, south China's Fujian province. Cai arranges the gunpowder in such a way that its explosion leaves burn marks to form an image. (AP Photo/EyePress) (May 14, 2006)
Seen in this rare image, Ricky Martin performs with his new third hand. Growing out of his head.
What? Come on, isn't that what you thought, too?
Puerto Rican born singer Ricky Martin performs during his first concert in Spain at the Pabellon Olimpic in Badalona near of Barcelona, Spain. (AP Photo/Manu Fernandez) (May 09, 2006)