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understand your accountant
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Megan, or Avelyn in the SCA

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January 18th, 2010

Rebecca and I went out to a (very late) dinner at the Blue Talon Bistro last night. Very yummy, if a little expensive to do regularly. The most entertaining part of the evening, however, ended up being a group behind me, there to celebrate a birthday. About halfway through our meal, they started to sing "Happy Birthday" to the guest of honor. Loudly. Monotonously. Quite zombie-like, in fact, if you can imagine zombies chanting "Happy Birthday" instead of "braaaiiiins." I laughed so hard, I snorted mustard up my nose. Then, about 20 minutes later, Rebecca looked over my shoulder and announced, "The zombies are leaving." Prompting further hilarity on my part.

OK, so you probably had to be there. Still, I challenge you to visualize the birthday zombies and not snort.
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November 24th, 2009

how "helpful"

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grammar love (stolen)
Grammar Check is "helping" me today. I guess I don't know as much about grammar as I thought I did. I'm crushed.

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The word it's correcting is "I'm", for those who are curious.
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November 12th, 2009

As Rebecca says, you know you live near the coast when they send everyone home early from work because high tide is coming. Of course, high tide + Tropical Storm (Depression?) + seasonal factors = holy shit!

They closed work at 2 this afternoon, which is draw-dropping in and of itself. Since the person who gets to make the final decision about whether we close lives about 5 minutes away, we don't close very often. But we closed early for Ida. So, like any rational person, I left work at 2:30, went home, changed clothes, grabbed my camera, and went back out into some crazy wind and rain. The pictures aren't great, because I was trying to take them really fast and then tuck the camera back out of the rain. Water does not go well with expensive electronics. Still, they get the point across.

Because I am unreasonably amused by a bunch of jets with wet feet:Collapse )



Dry dock? What dry dock?Collapse )



Aren't you glad this isn't your backyard?Collapse )



Note that the lights are on in the house on the right.Collapse )



Some people are brave or crazy. Hard to tell which.Collapse )



And one more, because I like pictures of half drowned trees.Collapse )

October 1st, 2009

Mine

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My mother bought herself a new digital camera, so she gave me her old one. I'm in luv. Here's my current favorite picture that I've taken:

Cut for your bandwidth.Collapse )

Meh.

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Australia
Dear Microsoft Word 2007:

I hate you. No, really, I do. I don't need your help. I need you to put all my buttons and menus back where I can find them so that when I'm writing a paper at midnight, I can find what I want. I would also appreciate it if you would stop trying to run SpellCheck based on U.K. English. I have told you approximately 73 times that I want U.S. English. It's "favorable", not "favourable."


Love and kisses,

Megan the procrastinator


PS: What does it say about me that I actually enjoyed researching and writing a paper on the potential of a commercial real estate bubble bursting? I think I would have enjoyed it even more if I had started it more than 3 days before it was due...


...hmmm...

Do you think there might be a lesson in there?

Nah, I didn't think so either!
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August 30th, 2009

(no subject)

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I saw this today in a list of submission guidelines for an anthology: "Stories should be science fiction (except military) or fantasy (except heroic/high/superhero/S&S)." (emphasis mine)

So what, exactly, does that leave? Urban fantasy, maybe? This seems restrictive to the point of lunacy, to me. Or am I weird, to find this weird?



And yeah, I know I've been living under a rock. I'm trying to crawl back out from under it. It hasn't been all bad, but it has been busy.
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March 11th, 2009

Birthdays!

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shiny things (stolen)
One of my co-workers (Verlie) turned 60 today. Our boss, Laurie, kept making a big point about this, wanting to make sure everyone knew, and Verlie kept saying she didn't mind turning 60, but it's so hard to know with people. Sometimes they say they don't mind, but they really do.

Turns out we should have listened to her: she was disappointed that we didn't get her the balloon with the Grim Reaper on it that said, "Don't worry, I'm only here for the cake." So last night, at Laurie's instigation, we trashed Verlie's office. Rebecca, two other coworkers, and I stayed until after six, blowing up balloons with "Happy 60th Birthday!" on them, stringing black crepe paper, and hanging up all kinds of obnoxious decorations. We even put up signs throughout the building that said, "Happy 60th Birthday, Verlie! Stop by, and wish her a happy one!" under a picture of her.

What I think of as the pièce de résistance was my idea. We took a piece of tissue paper and folded a handful of confetti into it, then taped the package to the door and the door jamb in such a way that when she opened the door this morning, it broke open and flung confetti everywhere. Of course, we'll be picking iridescent stars out of our paperwork for months, but it was worth it! And Verlie laughed her ass off this morning when she saw it.

Only when it was too late did it occur to me that I've left myself open for major retribution. The reason Laurie was so keen to have us trash Verlie's office was because Verlie had contributed to trashing Laurie's when Laurie turned 50. Black balloons, black crepe paper, tombstones, the whole nine yards. And guess what? I'm probably next, when I turn 30 in three years. The other two coworkers who helped have at least 7 years to go before the next significant digit. Rebecca almost certainly won't be in our building at that point, and even if she is, I'll turn 30 a year before she does. Laurie funded the expedition, but she was the last one up, plus she's got eight years to go. So that leaves...me. I have to decide how to handle it, assuming Verlie even tries to get me back. Obviously "with good grace" is going to be part of any answer, since you don't dish it out if you can't take it. Still, I have three options, as best I can tell:

1. Leave at 5pm precisely, pretending I suspect nothing, and open my door veeerrrryyyy carefully the next morning (especially if I don't remember shutting it the night before).

2. Leave at 5pm precisely, wishing everyone happy decorating on my way out the door.

3. Just don't leave work the night before my birthday. Bring a book and camp out. Eventually, they'll all get tired of waiting for me to go home, and they'll leave without decorating my office.

4. Pray Verlie retires before I turn 30.

I'm kind of looking forward to it. It's going to be such a disappointment if they don't do anything at all.
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March 3rd, 2009

Randomness

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Random things for today, since I do not have enough brain right now to write an actual post.

1.
I could survive for 54 seconds chained to a bunk bed with a velociraptor

2. Our 10-K will be filed by the end of next week (aka, our annual report). I never want to look at another table showing the breakdown of investment securities by maturity ever again. I am also very tired of checking Note 3 to Table IV to the balance sheet to Table III to... We'd look really stupid if we said total investments was $100,000 on page 17, and $100,001 on page 23, and I would sure hate to look stupid. But right now, I would hate looking at the damn tables again even more.

3. Found through aimless internet wandering recently: Natural Harvest - A Collection of Semen-Based Recipes. I have no desire to buy this book, but its mere existence makes me want to laugh or retch. Maybe both.

4. Also found through aimless internet wandering: weepingcock. Pretty funny, but I'm not sure I'm brave enough to join. I think this community was actually what led me to #3.

5. I'm running the Dismal Swamp Stomp again this year. I had a lot of fun last year, and the bank is sponsoring the kids' fun run again, so I again get free admittance. How can I turn down a free race? Of course, I'm not holding out a lot of hope for my race time right now: I've been busy, or sick, or hurt too much this winter to get in as much running as I wanted.

6. I am now officially a supervisor (as of 3/1), and I failed my first duty as same. We got some snow Sunday evening and into Monday, so Monday morning I called work's employee weather hotline to find out if we were opening on time. The hotline's message said the bank would be opening an hour late and specifically reminded supervisors to call their direct reports to make sure they knew. I failed utterly. I heard the words, and my brain dropped them in the mental trash can: "Oh, that doesn't apply to me, I can stop listening now." OK, so as failures go, it's a minor one, but still. And fortunately, my boss called my people when she couldn't get hold of me. Workaholic that I am, I was at work already, and she was trying to find me at home. Actually, not so much a workaholic, as determined to not be at work until 9pm, even if it was the first business day of the month.

7. For the first time since taking this job, I actually got my month-end reports done on time. It took me eight months to get here (July was the first month I closed out), but at the end of Monday, I was way ahead of schedule. Far enough ahead for my boss to give me a surprised look when I brought her more reports to review. I can't explain how proud I am of the fact that I got my stuff done on time, finally. My boss told me she expected it to take a full year before I really got the hang of all the reports, so by that standard, I'm kicking ass.

8. Two weeks (almost exactly) until we leave for Puerto Rico. We will swim in the brightest bioluminescent bay in the world, see the only tropical rainforest in the United States, and do various other tourist-y type things for a whole week. Work will not be able to reach me, and I intend to think about nothing more intense than what I'll have for dinner. I'm also trying not to build the trip up in my mind to some impossibly high level of fun and relaxation, or I'll spend the whole week thinking, "I'm not having as much fun as I thought I would."

December 20th, 2008

Meme sheep

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Stolen from nalidolly. These are the top 106 books most often marked as "unread" by LibraryThing’s users.... Bold the ones you've read, underline the ones you read for school, italicize the ones you started but didn't finish.
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Wow, my high school made me read a lot of stuff. And half of it isn't even on this list.
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This week sucked.

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Australia
Sheesh. Too many more weeks like this one just passed, and I may kill myself.

Monday: Was not too bad for a Monday. Not my favorite day of the week, but since one-seventh of my life will be spent on Mondays, it's not a good idea to get too worked up over it. The worst part was the three hour drive at the end to my parents' house, so that I could be nearby for...

Tuesday: When I attended my Opa's burial. That would be my godmother's father, who died late this summer of complications/infections from surgery. If "my godmother's father" seems a distant relationship, let me assure you that it wasn't. He and his wife were my Nana and Opa, my third set of grandparents. They were there for all the major events of my life, as much as my "real" grandparents, and I have just as many memories of their house from growing up. The reason for the time lapse between his death and burial is because he was buried in Arlington National Cemetary, and it takes a while to get everything set-up. Even while I was crying, part of me was fascinated by all the pomp and ceremony of a full military funeral: the military band playing, the caisson, the riderless horse with the boots in the stirrups, the twenty-one gun salute.

I think I first started crying when they pulled the flag-draped casket out of the hearse and loaded it onto the caisson, and I pretty much cried off-and-on for the rest of the day. The traffic driving home was terrible, so it took me five hours to get home (instead of three), and by the time I got there, I had a pounding headache from crying. And somewhere in the back of my brain, a little thought has crawled in: someday, that will be my parents. They're only in their early fifties now, and both relatively healthy, but suddenly, another quarter century doesn't seem nearly enough time.

Wednesday: Wasn't going too badly until I got home. I had a lot of stuff to catch up on at work, but it could have been worse. Then I got home, and found out that I had been summoned by the Hampton Circuit Court for Grand Jury duty. On January 5th. Ummmm, not a good day. We will be frantically scrambling at work, five days into the new year. So I called the Jury Coordinator, and said, "What do I need to do to get this moved to a different day?" After I told her why, she explained that the Grand Jury only meets (convenes? hears cases?) once a month, on the first Monday of the month. So it will always be inconvenient, but I am at least now moved to February 2nd, which is better than January 5th.

Thursday: Was OK until a little before noon, when I began to experience alternating bouts of nauseau and stomach cramping. Rebecca offered to drive me home around 1pm, but I said that I had too much work to do. By 2pm, I was ready to recant, and was, in fact, in the middle of triaging my work pile into "can wait" and "can't wait" stacks, when one of my co-workers came in to ask me a question. She took one look at my face, and asked, "Are you alright?" Since I was in the middle of a particularly strong period of nauseau right then, I said, "No." And then my vision started to grey out, and I said, "Oh shit" and passed out on the floor at her feet. Way to traumatize your co-workers, Megan. Good going.

Fortunately, Rebecca was nearby and could divert attempts to call the ambulance, since she's seen this before. Once I came around, they got me loaded up into my car and Rebecca drove me home and tucked me in, so I could zonk out for a few hours. I woke up around 5 to nibble some crackers, sip some water and dilute Gatorade, and then puke up everything I'd eaten all day. What fun.

Friday: A less extreme version of Thursday. I got to skip the nausea at least, but the stomach cramping would put in an appearance whenever I stood up for too long. Yes, I'm an idiot, I went to work, but since I think this was food poisoning, I wasn't contagious and I really do have a lot to do before year-end, especially since I'm taking the 24th and 26th off next week. But I pretty much came home from work, read for an hour or so, and went to bed. I was asleep by 7:30 last night, and didn't wake up until 7 this morning.

And boy oh boy am I suffering from food boredom. I don't typically have a weak stomach; even when I'm sick, if I want to eat it, I usually can. Not this time. I haven't had anything more exciting than a Clementine in two and a half days. Actually, that's not entirely accurate. I haven't had anything more exciting than a Clementine that hasn't bounced back up. This morning, I'm living dangerously and having butter on my toast. Ooooo. I'm so exciting.

But I am feeling a lot better, and I'm really hoping next week will not be nearly so bad. I'm disinclined to tempt fate by saying anything like, "Well, it can't possibly be worse!" because, yes, actually, it could be worse. But I can hope for better...
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