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The Toybox

people for the conservation of limited amounts of indignation


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food. and stuff.
children of dune - leto 1
seperis
One of the early problems I ran into during my early ipod phase was that I wanted it with me all the time. Little John and I (Yes. That is his name.) would sit out together during break, and when break was up, we'd be in teh middle of a song. And we'd go back inside.

Usually, I'd remember not to sing.

However. Rhythm always sets my walking pace, and today I was testing out A Perfect Circle's Bodies Like Sheep which is a lot more relevant when one is working for state government than I think anyone wants to acknowledge. It's also, I realized, slower than I thought it was considering--walking on the upbeat is impossibly slow, but on the four looks like I'm trying to quickly move from the scene of a crime, so I'd spent part of my break trying to find a happy medium (extended stride, etc). I was on a good part, but my break was over, so I wandered inside, at which time someone (and from what I could tell, someone far higher up the food chain though in this building, we are all kind of not the leading lights of the agency) stopped short when I came in the door to watch me mumbling about the rhythm of the war drums.

There was a second of conflict--wanting to look disapproving except it's a state office and if this is how we get through the day without emulating the postal service, go for it--wanting to ask and trying to remember work rules--we have some odd ones--and kind of wanting to laugh because I'd still been working on setting my step to rhythm and then tripped over my feet when I saw him watching me. He grinned, asked what I was listening to, and I mumbled out something while I got my headphones off and skulked to my office to wonder if he'd ever be my boss.



A group of programming consultants and guys from IT came over yesterday to gather six to my tiny cubicle (not kidding) so I could walk them through some of the problems we're having adn the changes I wanted to make. It was fun and kind of surreal, mostly because we were setting up a meeting for next week to go over the recommended changes and we had to give our schedules for the next week and IT Kind of Head Guy asked about my degree and how long it would take and mentioned they had openings, which he has to know I am so not qualified for yet. One of the programmers looked perkier and wondered if it would be consummate with my current job if they just started sending the bits I wanted changed to me to code next year (I had a twitchy moment of remebering I'll theoretically be either starting with or be finishing Java around Christmas next year. Sure, I'd probably make a mess of it, but--ooh. Cool.)

Technically there's no overlap in what I'm doing in class and at work except theoretical application, which both programmers started explaining. It's very Greek, but Greek with a familiar accent that identifies it as something there's a fairly good chance will make sense later. A lot of the concepts are becoming familiar; the one thing I can't get out of them is creating a text search engine of the database a la google-esque. I know google itself is proprietary, but a full-text search is something I've been wanting forever. Not for everyone--frankly, most people if not all would have no use for it. But for statistical analysis, it would be invaluable. It's resource-intensive, but also would allow the database as it stands, which is adding something like 15000 entries a month and conceivalby when it goes agency wide, we'll be talking 100,000 a month during a slow month, to be searchable by narrative text, not just specified fields. And while I'm trying to condition everyone to enter their information in a standard format in the fields, it's a slow journey.



I got a Wendy's Buttermilk Frescuit. If you hear word of my death, plz feel free to sue on the grounds of personal trauma you have suffered at my loss. Though so far, tasty. Very, very tasty.
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Wendy's Buttermild Frescuit

Who comes up with the names for these things??

Someone very, very strange.

...frescuit. No words.

And resposted in the right place...

My iPod is Rodney. Or Rod. Or Rodney McKay of the Barcelona McKays.

Re: And resposted in the right place...

*grins* Of the Barcelona McKays?

Re: And resposted in the right place...

Yeah, at certain times. It all depends on his mood, you see.

working on setting my step to rhythm
The bonus with this was *you* actually had headphones in... I get caught doing that and I don't even possess an iPod.


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