Manifest
hurm. so much funny headspace stuff... let it be stated here and for the record that i use 'you' here in a communal sense, as the likelihood that any of the individuals who i want to brutally maim will ever read this is minimal.
Friday, yeah friday was made of fail. we showed up early, we worked out asses off, we get yelled at for not having been quite perfect enough, because whiny little tits don't comprehend that 'just projecting your voice' to be heard over a band at point blank range, the average throat's going to hold up for about 20 minutes, not six hours. oh, and they don't seem to piece together that it doesn't help to whine at someone who can't change anything for you when they've already told you who you need to go talk to to get it fixed. you wouldn't stand there and argue with your router about a server error, would you? things weren't any better on the internal support end, either. running an efficient rego where the badges are supposed to be numerically sorted (they WEREN'T, whoever pulled out the syndicate badges fucked up both the syndicate badges, AND the ordering), with only ONE copy of the list in each sorting format (numeric by badge, alpha by name) and NO total master list? what sort of idiot thought there wouldn't be a use for a master?
Saturday was good. Saturday was excellent. stayed in the room darthing the zoids, and didn't come out. Thus, the chaos of Rego apparently still beign made of fail became a source of schadenfreude instead of psychotic rage.
Sunday. spending the whole day being badge police actually wasn't all that bad. Carrianne (spelling probably mangled) was excellent, gave clear, sensible directions, and kept her end of things organized very well. Getting bitched at continually by people who felt they were being "oppressed" by someone requesting that they obey the strictures of the contract they signed to get their badges and wear the damn things, or by someone saying (in an infinitely more polite fashion, the first seven times per person) "i'm sorry, you're carrying around something that my puny little ass could kill someone with, please take it to weapons check."
there's been complaints about our work as volunteers, and i have to say, that i don't think they need to worry. i'm going to help with the mecha workshop, and maybe fanfic next year, but other than that, currently the response is hell bloody no.
Friday, yeah friday was made of fail. we showed up early, we worked out asses off, we get yelled at for not having been quite perfect enough, because whiny little tits don't comprehend that 'just projecting your voice' to be heard over a band at point blank range, the average throat's going to hold up for about 20 minutes, not six hours. oh, and they don't seem to piece together that it doesn't help to whine at someone who can't change anything for you when they've already told you who you need to go talk to to get it fixed. you wouldn't stand there and argue with your router about a server error, would you? things weren't any better on the internal support end, either. running an efficient rego where the badges are supposed to be numerically sorted (they WEREN'T, whoever pulled out the syndicate badges fucked up both the syndicate badges, AND the ordering), with only ONE copy of the list in each sorting format (numeric by badge, alpha by name) and NO total master list? what sort of idiot thought there wouldn't be a use for a master?
Saturday was good. Saturday was excellent. stayed in the room darthing the zoids, and didn't come out. Thus, the chaos of Rego apparently still beign made of fail became a source of schadenfreude instead of psychotic rage.
Sunday. spending the whole day being badge police actually wasn't all that bad. Carrianne (spelling probably mangled) was excellent, gave clear, sensible directions, and kept her end of things organized very well. Getting bitched at continually by people who felt they were being "oppressed" by someone requesting that they obey the strictures of the contract they signed to get their badges and wear the damn things, or by someone saying (in an infinitely more polite fashion, the first seven times per person) "i'm sorry, you're carrying around something that my puny little ass could kill someone with, please take it to weapons check."
there's been complaints about our work as volunteers, and i have to say, that i don't think they need to worry. i'm going to help with the mecha workshop, and maybe fanfic next year, but other than that, currently the response is hell bloody no.