serinde: (Delirium)
I rushed home from work early (dissing the COO) to take Ranger to the vet; he had been peeing outside the box a few times in the last few weeks, and I wanted to know if it was physically triggered or just I'm Old, Damn Ya, Get Off My Lawn.

Background: All of the events, except one, have been while I'm home. He paces around yelling at me (as is usual if I am not in one of the Duly Appointed Places), and then his yowl takes on a slightly different note, and then I see he's blessing some random part of the apartment with his wee. (Once I figured out what was going on and carried him to the box before it started, and he was all "OH HEY BOX" and happily peed there instead.) He is using the box the rest of the time just fine. The box has been kept clean. He is eating and drinking and eliminating in usual quantities. So, I had been assuming this was some kind of new power play for attention; but then he did it Tuesday before I got home from work, and on the spot where he had been sleeping by preference, so I thought that this ought be looked at.

They check his weight and temperature and all; fine. They ask me questions which I have chiefly answered above. They ask if there is blood in his urine, or any diarrhea or vomiting or [etc]; no and no and no. The doctor recommends a blood test since his kidney levels were all very poor last time, and I agree heartily. Her guess is that he might have some kind of UTI starting up.

Ensues some hilarity as they try in both of his legs, and can't get his veins to disgorge enough blood for testing. (And the blood they do get looks rather thin and pale, so they figure he's anemic, too.) They take him away to get blood from his neck (I guess it takes deeper magic than you can do in the exam room? or it freaks out the owner?) and are gone for about ten minutes, whilst I look up kidney-disease-in-cats on the interwebs.

Finally they come back having gotten blood and a urine sample, which they show me and are all "There's blood! In the urine! Look at the pink urine!" and I am all WELL THERE WASN'T ON TUESDAY AND I KNOW THIS BECAUSE HE PISSED ON MY PRISTINE WHITE WORK BLOUSES RAWR and they are all "oh oh no no we believe you truly we do but there certainly is blood now". So they gave him an antibiotic shot, and gave me oral antibiotics which I need to give him daily for three weeks, because of course I am going away for two of those three weeks, and aaaaaaaaaaaa, and they will call me tomorrow with the blood test results.
serinde: (I see stupid people)
So, once upon a time and for many moons uncounted, I had a paid LJ account. Then the whole Time of the Random Banhammering came, and various & sundry other stupidities from the new overlords, and I did not want to give them of my moneys any more, so I dropped to a free account and moved my primary existence over to Dreamwidth, which can be neatly summed up as "LJ without the suck, and with some smart enhancements".

However, most people who are still active in the Foojournal-based worlds at all seem to still be on LJ, so I maintained my account there. And I was a little sick of only having six of my many icons, the rest being flagged inactive (except when you comment on someone else's post, where it gives you a choice of all of your icon library, and doesn't tell you which are active and which aren't); but what the hell, it's free, amirite? But yesterday I finally took note that you can just buy extra userpic capacity, so I went ahead and did that thing, $6 for the year being within my "fine you can have that much of my dosh" limits for another 15 icons.

You know what happens if you do that? It randomly chooses which of your icons to make active. Automatically. Instantly. No saving throw, and you can't switch it around. Your only option is to delete anything it chose as being active that you didn't want--which of course disassociates that icon from any of your old posts or comments you had used it in back in the paid days.

I was sure this was too stupid to be true, so I opened a support request. No, the Russians are oh so terribly sorry, but this is Just How It Works.

COME TO DREAMWIDTH. IT IS RUN BY SMART PEOPLE.
serinde: (MY CURSE IZ PASTEDE ON YAY!)
Went to my primary care physician today in re: my Probably Sciatica; not because I thought he could do anything about it, he being an internal medicine dude, but to start the referral wagon in motion. I was expressing how this particular pain was different from my other injuries on that leg, and he said "how many had you had?" and I started recollecting them as best I could, but I thought I missed some. So here's me trying to get them all down. I might be missing some.

Winter, 1997: Both knees: Fell on 'em, hard, while ice skating. For the next year and change, when kneeling down, there would be a point of excruciating pain at one point in the bend, and then it would be okay on the other side of that point...at least until I stood up again. Eventually it went away, but my left knee remains occasionally arthritic.

January, 2003: Left groin muscle, torn at aikido. By someone's pants. Don't ask. Got better after 4-6 weeks, but never really recovered full flexibility.

Burning Man, 2004: Pinky toe: Smashed at Fight Club. I forget which foot it was, though, so maybe doesn't count.

Spring, 2006: Left knee: bursitis, or that's the best guess. Out for a couple weeks.

- strained both rotator cuffs in summer 2006, just to switch it up a little -
- late 2007, switched jobs; stopped going to aikido -
- early 2008, started running for exercise -

June 2008: Left knee, bone spur from running. Stopped hurting after a month or two of not running.

July 2009: Left foot, plantar fasciitis from running. Went away after a month or two of not running + ice + dork sock.

Spring 2010: Left ankle: chronic sprain from aikido injury + mosh pit + not letting it heal. Got better in about 10 weeks of dork boot + proper shoes.

Feb. 2011: Left pinky toe: broken on a cruise ship deck chair. Healed after about two months of dork boot, because wearing any shoe on that foot was excruciating.

And then there's the current whee, that seems to be of two parts comprised: something that feels muscular that started around January, and then the Maybe Sciatica which started after the Stanford trip last month but before I got my new bike.

Jeebus.
serinde: (job joy)
User: I keep getting this error with Firefox. {description elided}
Student Helper: This happens when Firefox detects another profile in use. {fix elided}
User: That didn't work. Also this started happening when we started using this application hosted elsewhere, and other schools are saying they're having the same problem with it too. So please come troubleshoot it.
serinde: (MY CURSE IZ PASTEDE ON YAY!)
I have come down with [livejournal.com profile] nedlnthred's lurgy (with really shit-arse timing, I may add), and crawled home from work at 2pm suffering from total enervation, a tetchy throat, and a head packed with pressure. No actual symptoms elsewise, but still deeply miserable. In the hopes of effecting a swift cure, or at least keeping it from getting much worse, I spawned the following procedure:

0. Set up P&P on your televisionary device.
1. Take ye a smallish chicken. Seethe it with carrots, onion, salt, pepper, and whatever other stockish stuff you have lying around, for about 3 hours.
2. Meantime, roast two heads of garlic in a 350 degree oven for about 45 minutes.
3. Strain the broth, reserving the chicken meat and fending off an importunate cat.
4. Chop up most of an onion and saute in olive oil, adding thyme ynogh.
5. After the onion is well along, throw in an additional handful of raw garlic cloves.
6. Let that fry while you squeeze out all the roasted garlic cloves. Throw those in the pot, with about 3.5 cups of broth.
7. Let that cook together for 15-30 minutes, or until the raw cloves are soft.
8. Immersion blender the snot out of it.
9. Stir in 1/2 cup of whatever combination of cream or half-and-half you have to hand.
10. Add the chicken meat and salt & pepper to taste. Let it cook for about 5-10 minutes, but obviously watch out for curdling dairy.
11. Consume while lolling on the couch watching P&P and feeling terribly sorry for yourself.

It's got a really nice flavor and is most kind to the throat and head. It could actually be more garlicky, I think, though maybe my sinus weasels are deadening my smell/taste somewhat.
serinde: (ze fiber arts)
So, there was this sewing project (q.v.), and as I kind of guessed I did not, in fact, turn early December to any sort of account; and then the holidays were holidayish, and I chucked it in the corner and failed to meet its eye until suddenly I was staring down the barrel of Twelfth Night. Why is this night different from all other nights? Well, because the Queen will be down here, and I may have a finite chance of getting half an hour to do a fitting and see if this is just completely fucking doomed or what.

Of course, [livejournal.com profile] nedlnthred have committed to serving lunch for the 400 attendees at said event. We are just the tiniest bit busy. However.

As has been the case for years without end amen, I was not able to pick up this project until a deadline (real or self-imposed but vaguely real) was looming, and so tonight I got home and determined to cut out the lining & baste it together. At least I'd have something to work with, yes? Even bearing in mind the already-noted concerns about the cookie-cutter nature of the pattern pieces. And the fact that I'd asked the person who is managing the project for Their Majesties for a sleeve pattern over a month ago, and it still has not appeared. But okay whatever. I iron my favorite tawny linen Lining Stuff, and lay it out, and dig out the pattern pieces, and...

...is this right? That doesn't look right. Oh, it's curved-front. Not something I've tried before. Nuisance-y for cutting, but whatever, and there are them what say it works better. OK. But! Wait! The rich fullness of the skirt isn't from assumed gores, it's all in the pattern! Which means that each of the four pattern pieces is a full quarter circle.

1) this is wrong
2) you could say that it's easier than inserting gores, but it is wrong and moreover it is wasteful of fabric
3) and I don't have enough lining fabric to cut it that way
4) so the logical thing to do is cut it mostly straight, and then cut gores out of the waste fabric

...and here's where it gets fun, because the waist isn't marked on here, and I can make a guess at it, but I don't know; and since it was impressed on me in the strongest possible terms that this pattern is EXACTLY TO THE DESIRED LENGTH, I am entirely un-confident in my ability to wing this. And none of my sewing peeps are online, and and and and.

So I've twitched the evening away accomplishing nearly nothing, except checking in on work email and going into a red rage because of lying fuckhead faculty.
serinde: (Fuck off.)
I tend to view flexible spending accounts as rather like gym memberships: they are viable based on the indolence of the 85% of consumers who pay a lot in advance and then never take real advantage. If you're one of the remaining 15%, and put in the effort, they're sure worth it, but for everyone else the vendor is snickering up its sleeve at you.

Since my glasses start at $500, however, I thought it might be Relevant to my Interests, so I joined when my benefits kicked in on July 1. I didn't think about it until December hit, at which point I was all "oh er better get on that". Fine, no worries. Step 1: find out how much I have accumulated, so I know how many pairs I can buy. Looking through the Folder o' Paperwork, I see that we are through Cigna (even though our health insurance is Oxford; don't ask me, I just work here), so onward to the Cigna web site for online account whee.

The web site wots not of me. A chill runs down my spine.

I phone them yesterday. After navigating the voicemail and waiting in a queue for 20 minutes, I get a recorded message saying "Our facility is temporarily closed right now, please call back later." WELL THAT'S REASSURING

Today, I phone. I am phoning the number listed on the form one uses to get reimbursed for FSA expenses, so I presume it is the right number. I navigate through voicemail, wait in a queue for 15 minutes, get a human. She's never heard of me, and transfers to another who "specializes in FSAs". She's never heard of me, and transfers me to another who "knows more about FSAs". She's never heard of me or of Barnard College.

I phone the Benefits Coordinator in HR. I confirm that we are with Cigna for this service, and I'm enrolled in it.

Your humble correspondent: "But they say they have no record--"
She cuts me off: "You phoned the wrong number."
YHC: "It's the number on--"
She cuts me off: "You phoned the wrong number. You called the medical insurance line, not the FSA line."
YHC: "But the person I talked to--"
She cuts me off: "The number you need to dial is 1-800-XXX-YYYY"
YHC, thoroughly irritated: "THAT IS THE NUMBER I CALLED."
Her: "...Oh. Well. You're definitely enrolled and so you shouldn't have a problem."
YHC: "..."
Her: "..."
YHC: "...So, how do I get Cigna to acknowledge that?"
Her: "I'll call our representative."
YHC: "OK, you'll touch base with me then just so I know what's going on?"
Her: "YES."
YHC: "Great, thanks, bye." *click* @($*!##@!

All I wanted was a pair of glasses. Just one Goddamn pair of glasses.
serinde: (on the short bus)
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: Any progress?
[personal profile] serinde: *hand waggle* Gettin' somewhere.
[personal profile] serinde: I am getting yucks out of Star Wars Name Generators, though.
[personal profile] serinde: "Arwen Taurendil" ? O RLY.
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: Um. Right.
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: The good thing is, nothing sounds wrong.
[personal profile] serinde: "Eckle Arlos" !
[personal profile] serinde: "Fable Su" !
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: My character in KOTOR is "Sledge Harbatkin".
[personal profile] serinde: Hee. Did you make that up or pick the random offering?
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: I made that up.
[personal profile] serinde: See? CAN'T TELL.
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: This is a world in which "Rash Bag Pooop'u" is a perfectly reasonable name.
[personal profile] serinde: We are not allowing Gungans.
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: "No! The dread Sith Darth Wonga Wonga Wonga Wonga Wonga Wonga Wonga Ned."
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: Actually, I kind of like the idea of "Darth Ned".
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: He wears sweater vests!
serinde: (MY CURSE IZ PASTEDE ON YAY!)
It's a busy week: the students are moving back into the dorms, the faculty is returning to their offices, everyone's working double tides to make sure everything's right and tight for the start of classes next Tuesday.

Therefore, of course, I've come down sick.

I seem to have fought off most of the symptoms--it's chiefly manifesting as total soul-sucking lassitude and enervation, though with a bit of tetchy throat and sinus headache--but even couch + laptop forces me to set it aside and close my eyes every 40 minutes or so. I OBJECT. STRENUOUSLY.

For once, however, I am being smart and actually staying home instead of trying to power through it; and I'm actually getting some stuff done in my moments of lucidity, which I would not if I had dragged my sorry ass in. The other major goal is to shake it before I have to troop off on a family trip Friday night.
serinde: (feminine complaint)
I left [livejournal.com profile] sweh's midafternoon, with a multi-faceted but not over-complicated program; drive south, check in on [livejournal.com profile] nedlnthred's cats as she's away for the weekend (and drop off some things and pick up some things), drive on to Jersey City, drop Bud off at our favored mechanics so they can figure out what's to be done about his muffler (and give him a general check-up as I will need to drive him 500 miles in a few weeks), walk up to Journal Square, and thus home via PATH and subway. The best laid plans, etc.

TMI starts here. )
serinde: (brew-up)
So, a few developments for those who are not living in my brain.

1) I have a new job. My last day at Hunter was Friday, and I'm starting at Barnard on May 10th, where I will be Director of User Services (shut up). This is a big promotion-like thing, and I have moments of shrieking panic, but in my more rational moments I feel tolerably sure I can handle it. I also had the smart of giving myself some time between jobs, which I didn't really have last time 'round; I intended to spend it frolicking around in spring weather, except...

2) So that thing where I hurt my ankle at aikido and then some more in a mosh pit? It was feeling mostly better, so I kept going to class, and I kept going to yoga, and then it started to hurt somewhat when I walked, and then started hurting a lot when I walked, and I did the HMO referrals dance, and the referring ortho couldn't see me til July, and I went back and bibbled at Callen-Lorde's referral dept., and they sent me to the NYU walk-in clinic on Friday who tell me I have a chronic sprain because I haven't just let the stupid thing heal. So I have an air cast and crutches, and I'm supposed to keep off it as much as possible, and wear the (extremely ill-fitting) air cast when walking, and etc. I am coping with this with my usual grace and serenity: which is to say, hanging on by the skin of my teeth and being a whiny little bitch. I seem to have an enforced staycation, except the part where I still seem to be running around a lot. But I'm taking the bus whenever I can, and that's something, yes? In spite of the fact that some of the M66 drivers are rotten fucking people, to the point where one actually closed the doors in my face as I was about to put my foot on the step. (Some of the others are really nice, though, so I guess this evens out.)

3) I still have not hung my curtains. I faithfully swear that I shall call the landlady tomorrow and ask if we have a ladder. I have to change a light bulb anyways. Watch, I'll get them finally up and then hate how they look.

4) As far as I'm aware, we're all still supposed to put our plastic/glass recycling in clear plastic trash bags. So why do none of the stores around me sell 'em?

5) I'm having mental hysterics off-and-on that the progress I'd been making on the weight loss front will now be utterly destroyed by enforced inactivity. Because what can you do without a leg to stand on?

6) I went and asked a boy out, for a number of reasons, not least of which was to confirm that I was capable of doing so. I was ready for "yes", I was ready for "no"; I was not prepared for utter silence. The entire situation has led to numerous reflexions, including that my dating brain appears to be stuck at age 16.

7) I have Rock Band again, which makes me happy, except I really want to drum, but it's my right foot I hit the kick drum with, and that will just not do; and I prefer bass over guitar, but you can't have a solo career as a bassist (tell that to Lemmy, jerkweeds).

8) In spite of all of these bees, I'm doing pretty okay.
serinde: (self-control)
We have some several small-form-factor PCs which we were testing for use in the student terminal 2.0 roll-out. One such is a Dell Optiplex 760, which was way too big for the job at hand; and since trying to run Windows in a VM on my desktop iMac eats all my computrons, on [livejournal.com profile] spride's advice I snarfed it to stick under my desk and remote into when I have the need to be plunged into the warm gelatinous mass of Redmond.

While I'm at it, why not see if it will PXE boot and talk to our management console? So I hook it up at our testing bench and turn it on.

1. No BIOS, it just
2. goes directly to a crippled XP configuration screen
3. THAT PLAYS REPETITIVE HORRIBLE MUSIC REALLY REALLY LOUD THAT YOU CANNOT TURN OFF UNTIL YOU GO THROUGH IT ALL

Ensued then a Three Stooges-like routine involving me frantically searching it for a volume control (there isn't one), or an "off" tickybox on the screen (there isn't one), or a physical control on the machine itself (there isn't one), or failing that A PILLOW TO STICK IT UNDER (none of those either) so as not to disturb the fifteen other people in earshot.

Eventually it booted to XP proper, and hopefully this will not recur on the next reboot; but I have procured a heavy coat to throw over it just in case.
serinde: (job joy)
I submit Yet Another bug report to Payroll about their precious new web app, which is once again puking unindicative server errors at me. The response, in its entirety:

"You need to find out first if you filled out it, please call me to go throu. x 12345"
serinde: ("What fresh hell?")
[livejournal.com profile] syringavulgaris: First, there was the EA booth babe stupidity which I now realize is hyping Dante's Inferno.
[livejournal.com profile] syringavulgaris: Because the sin and the lust and the what not.
[livejournal.com profile] syringavulgaris: Then I actually looked at the description of the game.
[livejournal.com profile] syringavulgaris: I have no mouth and I must scream.
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: I read L'Inferno. I do not recall any point at which anyone went nuts with a giant axe.
[livejournal.com profile] syringavulgaris: As you say.
[livejournal.com profile] syringavulgaris: AND THEY ARE OPTING IT FOR A FILM.
[livejournal.com profile] syringavulgaris: That noise you heard? That was a whole raft of lit majors exploding.
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: I bet I know who's slated to direct!
[livejournal.com profile] syringavulgaris: noooooooooooooo
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: Jaaaaaaaaaaaa!
[livejournal.com profile] syringavulgaris: Oh, and that's not an axe, it's a scythe.
[livejournal.com profile] syringavulgaris: He killed the Grim Reaper and took his stuff.
[livejournal.com profile] syringavulgaris: Even typing these words, I feel my IQ drop.
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: I am looking at this image and wondering which obscure Florentine politico the guy on the right is supposed to be.
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: "After ripping off the head of a living ship while crossing one of the main rivers of hell, causing the boat to crash, you make your way up the sheer face of a pair of trembling mountainous columns and sprint across a crumbling bridge that's collapsing behind you. At quite literally the last moment, you make a final desperate leap to safety, attach yourself to a wall, and then drop to the ground to enjoy a moment's rest. With whatever breath remains in your lungs, you continue on your quest, circling down into another hellish dungeon where, after kicking the door down and readying your weapon, you prepare to meet your foe. From a fiery furnace a few feet away, it emerges: a small, monstrous infant with long curved blades where its hands used to be. Worse yet, it's not alone; soon the lone menacing demon-child is joined by another, and another, and still more. You grip your weapon and prepare for the worst. And this is just the first layer of hell. "
[livejournal.com profile] elibalin: Yep, that's what I think of when I think of unbaptized infants and virtuous pagans.
serinde: (self-control)
I returned this evening from the podiatrist, who judges that I have plantar fasciitis. Short form if you are suffering TL;DR: the connective stuff on the bottom of my (left) foot? It's inflamed and sad. This happens if you run, if you're overweight, if you're female, if you lug heavy stuff around, and if you wear high-heels or flip-flops (any shoes without arch support, basically). OH GOSH WELL I DON'T DO ANY OF THAT

So. I am to take ibuprofen for a week, and I am to ice the sad bit 2 or 3 times per day. I am to do stretching exercises[1]. I am not to run. I am to try and keep off it, and not do things that bother it. And I am to wear sensible shoes with arch support. IN SUMMER. kill stab hate kill

I am feeling whiny and oppressed; and also, if packing extra poundage contributes, how am I gonna lose it if I have to keep off my feet?! (The college pool is open, but I find laps so unspeakably tedious I can't stick to them... On [livejournal.com profile] sweh's advice I am looking into waterproof MP3 players, which would tidily solve my problem, but they seem to be much expense for low functionality.)

[1] One of the primary causes is tightness in the Achilles tendon and hamstrings. Yoga for almost a year? And I still have tightness there? what does it take
serinde: (job joy)
[Your humble correspondent returns from a meeting to see the baleful red eye of the voicemail glaring at her from her desk phone. She curses, and plays the message.]
Random Git's Message: Hi, this is Foo Bar. Can someone there please call me back. X12345 *click*
Your Humble Correspondent: Because what we love is some context in our messages. *dials number*
YHC: Hi, this is {me}, I received your message asking for a call?
RG: Yes!
YHC: ...so...what can I do for you? [1]
RG: Oh! I didn't...but...Maybe I have the wrong person.
YHC: ...............
RG: Are you in charge of the help desk?
YHC: I am in charge of the student help desk, yes.
RG: But for CUNYfirst? [2]
YHC: No, that's being handled by the Faculty/Staff help desk.
RG: So you're the wrong person?
YHC: . o O ( FOR WHAT? ) ....So it would seem.
RG: OK thanks *click*

[1] At this point I am assuming that it's some HR nonsense, as I happened to recognize the person's name as someone who works up there, not that she's actually said anything indicative yet.
[2]This is the big huge university-wide ERP implementation that's being slowly rolled out in stages, rather like successive biblical plagues.
serinde: (dancing zombies!)
Step 1: Watch this.
Step 2: Follow along the below conversation, kind of like a sing-along with the ball bouncing along the words on the TV screen.
Step 3: Wait patiently, the orderlies will be here with a syringe very soon.
Play along at home! )
serinde: (happyface)
Me, to [livejournal.com profile] elibalin, as we passed the Meadowlands: "I've evolved the notion that major league sports teams are like really bitchy, demanding girlfriends. You have to keep lavishing them with hideously expensive, unnecessary gifts (that they will then toss in a drawer and forget about) or else they will get upset and leave you."

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