Wahmbulance!

Nerd Town just ain't what it used to be.

Nerditry, like single serve whole milk yogurt and good breeding, is becoming harder and harder to find, Dear Reader.

Consider, if you will, the .sig file.

Long a friend of the thoughtful, movie quoting, perhaps even politically minded nerd, the .sig (non nerd Americans, please pronounce "dot sig") file has evolved from a hidden text file directing your e-mail program to add your name, phone number, and REDONKULUS Joel Robinsonism to the end of your every electronic missive to a... well, non-hidden, can-be-named-whatever file that doesn't seem to need to be a text file these days either.

Who can keep up?

Attempting to do just that, as the modern girl does, Dear Reader, I asked the guy sitting next to me: "What's the best way to format your .sig here?" 

"A what?"

"Dot sig?"

"Uh...."

Well, maybe he isn't really nerdy - I definitely heard him being confused about file formats earlier in the day - so I asked a couple of other coworkers.  With the same results!

How do you get into VFX not knowing what a .sig is?  Where do these people come from?  How did they get in the building?  WHO ARE THE AD WIZARDS?

What I truly fear, Dear Reader, is that the real question is, "How old do you have to be to remember a .sig file, anyway, DAAAAAYMN?"

Except that for TRUE nerds, you're never too old to forget nerd arcana.  So ha ha on YOU, non-nerd non-losers who sit nearish to me!  HA HA indeed! Victory is, indeed, sweet.  So I've heard.

mlle x  |  movie i'm working on  |  phone number with one digit off so you can't actually call me
"Uh, Torgo, I wouldn't burn any bridges if I were you."  - Joel Robinson

I heart my job!

I love it when something at work makes me laugh out loud.

The folks who put on the show with the guy who turns into an arachnid are AWESOME.  I love love love working with them, and no, I'm not being sarcastic.  They throw kick ass parties, and one awesome coordinator got John Dykstra (!!!!!) to sign my box set of Star Wars tapes (shut up, the VHSs don't have all that digital junque) (which I'm not saying Mr. G.L. shouldn't have done if he wanted to, I just prefer my original childhood version).  What's cooler than a show who gives away Caddyshack DVDs signed by Academy Award winner JD? Nothing.  Nothing that I can think of off of the top of my head.

They also do über  cool things like get a ton of TastyKakes for the whole show. LOVE!

Now, though I'm not currently on the show, I was at one point, so I sneeeeks over there for a snacky snack every once in a while. Not often!  I swear!  So I was in the pod with my purloined treat when Super Supe Dave  catches me - well, actually, he was grabbing some fruit.  After he helped me break into the cabinet o'snax.

Wait, why would he grab fruit when there is a veritable plethora of TastyKakes not ten feet away?

Well, turns out, Dave decided to run an experiment:

"Who do you think will win?" he mused, after the laughter died down.

Who indeed? When I returned three minutes later to photograph the hilarity, the fruits had mysteriously returned to the arachnid snacks area (yes, Dear Reader, this is a reenactment).  Hmmmmm!

I am reminded of a certain submission to the Haiku Contest held during the second archnidious show: 

what day is today
must go home and pass out now
uh, where do i live

Actually, that's not the one  was thinking of, that one had to do with getting wicked fat, but it's still pretty awesome.

Good times, y'all, good times.

little matt damon
have you learned nothing today?
covering my ears
mlle_x

Best Christmas Party Evar UPDATE!!!

Oh, I totally forgot to include one thing about the Best Christmas Party EVAR!

After my inspired turn with the Vibraslap (mind.  out of gutter.  NOW.), my hand was bruised... ALL THE WAY THROUGH. 

Puffy and purpley-black on the palmar aspect, as one might expect, this monumental bruise extended back into the meat of my hand, and turned the dorsal aspect between the first metacarpals a lovely green shade apropos for any holiday occasion.

It was wicked awesome!

porta-potties!!!
mlle_x

PS: I love anatomy, as you may have noticed, Dear Reader.  It makes me sound smart when decribing my various idiot danger-mouse injuries over the years, like the time I changed a lightbulb in a very high-ceilinged room by standing on a chair on top of a vintage dinette table that was designed to have a leaf, and, as it turns out, breaks in half quite readily.

Wish I had a picture of THAT bruise. 

Just inside the anterior superiour iliac spine, this bruise might have been a puncture wound, had I fallen just a tisch harder - at any rate, it took about seven weeks - SEVEN! - to heal.  I couldn't lean on the bar at work at all.  Yet another time I managed to barely not kill myself.  Yay!

The Best Christmas Party EVAR.

I missed our corporate party last night over on the lot. 

I've learned from bitter experience last year that if a girl isn't at the very least extremely tipsy, it's kind of not very fun.  Not like that time they had a merry-go-round and my sequined top got perfectly enmeshed in my friend Rachael's loosely knitted sweater - now, them was good times, Dear Reader.  Good times.

I mean, it's not that you can't have fun without being drunk... well, crap, maybe it is.  Whatever.  Don't you judge me!

Anyhoodle.  I missed the party.  However, I went to an office Christmas party a few years back that would surely take the prize for Bestest Christmas Partay EVAR.