In which I go on a wild little trip!
On St. Pat’s we got all riled up and decided for no good reason whatsoever to go to the casino. It’s less than an hour away, and we had sober drivers, so off we went — at one-thirty in the morning! It was a strange idea because none of us could really afford to gamble, but we went anyway.
I was good and spent only ten dollars ($5 in penny slots, and $5 worth of cocktails). Baby Girl & Core played some slots and maybe a little blackjack. Two of our party blew their gambling budgets in about two hours and took off. The final member of our party gambled all night and got the rest of us a comped room. (Well, mostly comped. I think she had to pay $40 for it.) We got back to Fairfield around three on Sunday afternoon, completely shagged out.
My head kept making that casino noise until I went to bed last night. You know, the sound of two thousand slot machines dinging? That eager, never-ending hum? It’s probably what the primal sound sounds like. (Heh. Enlightenment: an eternity’s worth of loose slots!)
In other news interesting only to myself, last night the curse arrived in force, and today I feel like my guts are falling out. At least my hair’s a cool color!
In which no news is good news!
Today at work I’m listing some of the company’s extraneous hardware on eBay. It’s pretty fun, but the boss is out of the office right now so I don’t know if he wants me to put reserves on the switches or not.
Next I’ll be meticulously unfucking a 60+ page legal document I scanned and OCR’d yesterday. (I hate MS Word. I think I might just put all the text in Notepad, do all the needed find’n’replaces, and THEN put it back in Word. Word is a bossy, nosey bitch, who thinks it knows what I want BUT IT DOESN’T.)
After a few days of unseasonable balminess, it’s chilly again. I’m under-dressed and my desk sits in an Arctic zone so my fingers are freezing. (The rest of the building is at least five degrees warmer than the spot I sit in. I hope this spot doesn’t turn out to be the warmest zone in the summer. That would suck.) I’m half tempted to run home real quick and get, like, a down comforter or something. I can’t feel my toes.
My roommate Truck said something hysterical the other day. At the time I said, “I am so gonna blog that,” but now I can’t remember what it was. (Plus he’s so weird that most people don’t get half his schtick anyway.)
I can’t think of anything else to put parentheses around, so I think my work on this post is done.
In which it’s a beautiful day.
It’s gorgeous out. Gorgeous! Warm and breezy and balmy. If I weren’t still so pleased to be employed, I’d be bitching about wanting to go outside and play!
The site I mentioned yesterday went down about five minutes after I posted, and is still down. I wonder if I jinxed it. Maybe I should link to CNN.com and see if it goes down, too?
Update: ED is back up. Sort of. Unreliable bitches.
In which I miss the loss of unlimited naptime, but otherwise feel pretty damn positive. Bonus: includes the return of nested parentheses!
Overheard at work today: “Yeah, I understand that. I just don’t understand how a buffer overflow translates to root access.”
(Rampant nerd-speak! I love my job!)
I spent about eleventy hours this weekend trolling through the Encyclopedia Dramatica, which is both an Internet cultural history wiki and the home of some of the foulest, rudest, and funniest crap ever written, ever ever EVAR.
The ED roundly bags on everyone (including, but not limited to: 16-year-old girls, women in general and your mom in particular, fucktards, fags, niggers, Jews, emo kids, and even you) and after that it just gets worse. Literally no one can read it without becoming offended. It’s raunchy, liberally decorated with filthy pictures, pretty much NSFW, and completely fucking hysterical. I laughed my ass off. (But do beware the ED, gentle readers, because you will get goatsed if you surf around in there. (And I’m not just talkin’ the original hello.jpg either; it’s empty 40’s in the arse these days. YHBW.))
I saw Alex today!
In other news, I still hate DST because it’s fucking stupid and I hate it.
In which the ‘box celebrates a very important occasion.
Six years ago today, I registered the GOBLINBOX.COM domain and immediately the hilarity you’ve come to know and love ensued.
Yay! Now buy me something! 😉
In which I’m gainfully employed! HURRAH!
I reported to work this morning at ten; a totally reasonable and human hour to do so. T was finishing up with my ‘new’ computer, and my desk was not only clean and stocked with paperclips and things, but there was a plant on it! A plant!
The picture shows the view from my desk.
I’ve spent the day so far doing bookkeeping. The guys who work here are all of the nice variety, but they’re not in the building much. I’m alone right now, and just had a fun time digging around to find an Ethernet cable for a walk-in customer… I don’t really entirely know where everything is, and he kept asking me to give him a 20′ crossover he’d seen on the floor. “That one’s long enough!” he said.
“Yeah, but it’s a crossover so it won’t work,” I kept telling him. “It’s a different thing than what you want.”
I gotta go finish my data entry. Ciao, babies. I’M SO TOTALLY EMPLOYED! YAY!
In which I’m EMPLOYED!
This morning I drove over here and met with M.S. for an hour. We had a great meeting. They need an all-around office chick, to do their data entry and bookkeeping and billing and various other officey stuff.
I start tomorrow!
I would have offered to start immediately but they need time to clear off a desk and put a computer and a phone on it for me. (I said if they can at least find a box, I can freakin’ build it myself if I have to.) I’ll start with bookkeeping and billing, mainly, but it sounds like there is so much to do there that I won’t have any trouble keeping myself busy. I think it’s one of those environments where a little pro-activity goes a long way. I noted several little projects during our tour of the facility, including writing content for the web site, selling old equipment on eBay, putting inventory away, and taking naps on the big couches stuffed between two of the cubicles. (Hah!)
The tour of the data center proved to me once again how much of a geek I truly am. I love racks filled with servers, their little lights flashing merrily. I love piles of computer parts. I love wires and routers and servers with hand-written signs on them that say something like, “This is the phone server! Don’t mess with it!”
It’s part-time to start with an agreement to discuss it again in a month, but I think I’ll be able to work up to 3/4 or full-time quite soon. The starting wage is low because it’s something of a trial period, but again, discussion in a month. They’re pretty sure they need an office chick, but haven’t had one in so long they can’t remember for sure. I can tell they really need me. I’m gonna make life so much easier for them!
I won’t be doing any engineering stuff – it’s an office job – but not only am I employed again, but I’m at an ISP! Oh, how I love the Internet… and the people who sell connections to it.
In which I make the best of it.
I stopped for gas on the way out of town, and in spite of my nice interview clothes I took a look underneath the jeep. The exhaust has rusted out. Parts of it are hanging down all over the place, and so I called and canceled my appointment because if I’d driven to Iowa City like that, sections of exhaust would have ended up all over.
I’ve been told I need to take it to a shop. I can’t afford that so I’m quasi-carless. I’ll probably drive it around in town anyway.
In lieu of going to Iowa City, AmmZon took me to lunch at India Cafe. Here is my lunch:
Hah! That’s not really my lunch. Just an image of it.
Then I accompanied Her Tallness to the yarn store so she could buy yarn and needles for this project. Here is an image of some yarn:
Now she’s at work rubbing people for money, and I am home.
I need find some mechanical person to ask if I can just rip out the fucking exhaust and drive around without fuming myself to death or not. If I can just remove the dangling parts, that will do until I can afford to fix it.
In other news, here’s some MP3 love for y’all. Hey Vuboq! Here’s Dick and Jane. Hey Scott! Here’s Pretty. Hey everyone else! If you haven’t listened to my new bisexual hooker junkie Jew rapper celebrity crush yet, you should click too, ’cause it’s Mickey Avalon (“call me Mr Riiiiight”) and we are so slummin’ now, bitches. Check this lyric:
Baby was Jen’s best friend
and maybe if you were lucky
licky licky sucky sucky
Mickey Mickey, fuck me fuck me
more junk in her trunk than a Honda
I know you wanna do the Jane FondaOne, two, three, four
get your booty on the dance floor
work it out, shake it little momma
lemme see you do the Jane Fonda
You just can’t write a rap lyric like that! AND I DEFY YOU TO TRY! *collapses into giggles* No, seriously though. It’s strangely charming. He’s really quite smart; his lyrics are clever in their way. I lurve him.
Now I’m going to do AmmZon’s taxes. I’m supposed to be fixing this form, but the server’s installation of Perl is all fucked up and it won’t run cgi scripts for me. Talk about a cute error: “Perhaps the capitalisation of ‘mysql’ isn’t right”?!? WTF, box. I don’t have root on it, it’s a hosting service, so there’s a ticket open.
VSCO
Instagram has become unusable crap, so please click the icon below to see my latest pics.
4 random books from my Library!
