One more entry on the list...
Jul. 17th, 2006 10:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ann_leckie...of people who will be due for some extensive re-education the day I take absolute control of the world.
Number 76-- People who, at the municipal pool, take up nearly all of the limited shade with their chairs and stuff, and then spend the next few hours in the water. Really. And then only visit their chairs to pack up and leave.
For extra credit, these people should actually use only one or two chairs, but take up all the rest of the shady real-estate with their swimming rings, towels, shoes, toys, etc. That's happened before, though it wasn't the case yesterday. Yesterday was Hot. And everyone was at the pool, and the one shady area was crammed tight with chairs, so there was no kicking a couple of pool toys over a bit so you could be at least part way in the shade. Yes, I would have been annoyed if every chair under the umbrella had been occupied by sweating parents supervising their children. But no one would have been actively rude, and I wouldn't have directed my anoyance at anyone. No one would have been due prison sentences after the revolution.
See, when I go to the pool it's generally to supervise my kids, who are too young to be left there alone. So I need a spot where I can see the whole pool* and where I don't fry while I read or write in my notebook.
*I have, once before, taken a spot in the shade from which I could not see the whole pool. The end result was Paidhi Boy, who can barely swim, who knows he's not allowed in the "big pool" (size smaller, but it's the one for racing, with the deep water) until he can demonstrate to me that he can swim, figuring that if I couldn't see him he wouldn't be caught and jumping off the diving board into the twelve foot water. I had gotten up to look around for him, and after a panicked few minutes, saw him coming out of the big pool. "You know you aren't allowed in there," I tell him. "Did you jump off the diving board?"
"No!"
"We're going home."
"Why?!"
"I told you that if I saw you in the big pool we were going straight home. You jumped off the diving board didn't you."
A stomp of the foot. "How did you see me?"
I see all, my child.
He's lucky he didn't drown. Every day since then I've made him attempt the swimming task I put to him, the one that will get my permission for the big pool and the diving board. He can get almost three quarters of the length, and then complains that it's "too hard." "You've got to practice if you want to do it," I tell him, but he won't do it on his own. He just wants to jump off the diving board. Because it looks so fun.
Now, on a different topic. It was weeks ago that I transferred the domain of the Small Non-profit I was working for over to their new web-developer. With my blessing, with a song in my heart! I was free!
Then my ex-boss called me up. The email address that I had been using to correspond with musicians, and to field questions from visitors to the website, he now had access to on the new server. And there weren't any emails in it!!! Had I been able to access the email box in question and could I tell him what was wrong? Were floods of people trying to get a hold of us and failing? (The organization does have an audience, and likely there are people who might be interested if they knew about it, but that number is never going to equal more than a couple of emails a month, if that.) Where were all the old emails? Had I cleaned out the box before the transfer, or what?
Look, I don't have any access at all to the mailboxes anymore, and franklythere are no even if you could magically access messages on the old server from the new one, there wouldn't have been any old messages in the one mailbox because I don't leave all my frigging messages on the server. (His reason for doing so is uniquely insane, just like the man himself. I won't go into it here.) And no, when the new guy transferred the domain over to the new server, he did not just transfer the email boxes. It doesn't work that way. And I did tell the new guy that it looked like bossman had a bunch of mail sitting in his box and please tell him to clean it out, meanwhile I had to get back to Mr. Cameron at the hospital...yes, this was all going down while Mr. Cameron was going in for emergency gallbladder surgery. (edited one sentence to make it a bit more clear.)
So I probably should have told bossman myself that he needed to clean out his box, as soon as I realized that he was storing so much stuff there. And I did apologize for that. I suppose it never occurred to me that he would think that the new guy would just up and pick up the whole email system and plop it down on the new server. My bad.
The good news is, it looks like there's still a big chunk of emails sitting on the server space I rent. So all his old emails are still there (note, he hasn't asked for them yet, he hasn't been able to access his mailbox on the new server yet and it hasn't occurred to him--it won't until he reads my email--that he won't just be able to get in and get all that stuff). The bad news is, I have no idea in hell how to get to it, since all the instructions I have to access it involve going to the domain, which now is no longer on that server. I am now waiting, with bated breath, for tech support's reply to my cry for help.
Number 76-- People who, at the municipal pool, take up nearly all of the limited shade with their chairs and stuff, and then spend the next few hours in the water. Really. And then only visit their chairs to pack up and leave.
For extra credit, these people should actually use only one or two chairs, but take up all the rest of the shady real-estate with their swimming rings, towels, shoes, toys, etc. That's happened before, though it wasn't the case yesterday. Yesterday was Hot. And everyone was at the pool, and the one shady area was crammed tight with chairs, so there was no kicking a couple of pool toys over a bit so you could be at least part way in the shade. Yes, I would have been annoyed if every chair under the umbrella had been occupied by sweating parents supervising their children. But no one would have been actively rude, and I wouldn't have directed my anoyance at anyone. No one would have been due prison sentences after the revolution.
See, when I go to the pool it's generally to supervise my kids, who are too young to be left there alone. So I need a spot where I can see the whole pool* and where I don't fry while I read or write in my notebook.
*I have, once before, taken a spot in the shade from which I could not see the whole pool. The end result was Paidhi Boy, who can barely swim, who knows he's not allowed in the "big pool" (size smaller, but it's the one for racing, with the deep water) until he can demonstrate to me that he can swim, figuring that if I couldn't see him he wouldn't be caught and jumping off the diving board into the twelve foot water. I had gotten up to look around for him, and after a panicked few minutes, saw him coming out of the big pool. "You know you aren't allowed in there," I tell him. "Did you jump off the diving board?"
"No!"
"We're going home."
"Why?!"
"I told you that if I saw you in the big pool we were going straight home. You jumped off the diving board didn't you."
A stomp of the foot. "How did you see me?"
I see all, my child.
He's lucky he didn't drown. Every day since then I've made him attempt the swimming task I put to him, the one that will get my permission for the big pool and the diving board. He can get almost three quarters of the length, and then complains that it's "too hard." "You've got to practice if you want to do it," I tell him, but he won't do it on his own. He just wants to jump off the diving board. Because it looks so fun.
Now, on a different topic. It was weeks ago that I transferred the domain of the Small Non-profit I was working for over to their new web-developer. With my blessing, with a song in my heart! I was free!
Then my ex-boss called me up. The email address that I had been using to correspond with musicians, and to field questions from visitors to the website, he now had access to on the new server. And there weren't any emails in it!!! Had I been able to access the email box in question and could I tell him what was wrong? Were floods of people trying to get a hold of us and failing? (The organization does have an audience, and likely there are people who might be interested if they knew about it, but that number is never going to equal more than a couple of emails a month, if that.) Where were all the old emails? Had I cleaned out the box before the transfer, or what?
Look, I don't have any access at all to the mailboxes anymore, and frankly
So I probably should have told bossman myself that he needed to clean out his box, as soon as I realized that he was storing so much stuff there. And I did apologize for that. I suppose it never occurred to me that he would think that the new guy would just up and pick up the whole email system and plop it down on the new server. My bad.
The good news is, it looks like there's still a big chunk of emails sitting on the server space I rent. So all his old emails are still there (note, he hasn't asked for them yet, he hasn't been able to access his mailbox on the new server yet and it hasn't occurred to him--it won't until he reads my email--that he won't just be able to get in and get all that stuff). The bad news is, I have no idea in hell how to get to it, since all the instructions I have to access it involve going to the domain, which now is no longer on that server. I am now waiting, with bated breath, for tech support's reply to my cry for help.