Natter 71: Someone is wrong on the Internet
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
Yes, veterans get points in the applications process at the EPA, but there's no preferential treatment once they are in the short list pool as far as I know
Nope, the preference continues to apply. If you want to hire someone other than a veteran in the top open pool, you have to justify it. It's the new rules. It's why most hires here are actually either veterans or people from other federal agencies, already in the system, who don't have to compete with veterans.
Consuela, I cannot wrap my head around the dos and don'ts of that hiring process
It's ridiculous. If I don't laugh I'd have to cry. And drinking just makes me sleep poorly. (I bumped into a climbing pal on Friday that I haven't seen in about 18 months, and the first thing she said was that I looked "skinny". Which frankly isn't true, but I have dropped some weight in the last couple of months...)
Hmm, it's 10AM and no call yet from the assisted living facility, or from my folks. I didn't get any calls on Friday, either. I wonder if this is the new normal? Please?
I'm catching up on episodes of Revenge today. I have had too many things in that time slot, and I thought that I would be able to watch on demand. However, the on demand option on my cable has been broken for weeks. They seem to have fixed it today. The flashback episode was excellent.
I am nose to grindstone today, but sending out warm wishes and good thoughts to everyone.
OMG I am so tired today, And I thought I slept pretty good last night but all I've wanted to do today is find a corner to curl up in take a nap. Which ain't happening. So. Frelling. Groked.
Apparently the bride that I've not met corrected the seating cards to lower case my name, which means I don't care that no one in their family does relationships right--she's okay by me.
She's okay by me as well. I have determined that my family calls me by a nickname I've always hated, calls my sister a diminutive that she hates and does the same to my Niecelet. Why we don't stop this, I have no idea. How difficult is it to call people what they wish to be called?
I wonder if this is the new normal? Please?
I hope so.
Completely random note from the workplace: Pulling op reports into our division database, I just found my favorite typo ever, in which the name of an assistant surgeon whose first name is Errol was accidentally transcribed, and signed off on by the attending surgeon, as Errol Flynn.
(Errol's actual surname is also one syllable, but is otherwise nothing remotely like Flynn - this was clearly in no way a slip of the fingers, but a total TCM-influenced brainfart caught by exactly nobody; even I skimmed right past it and went, "Mm-hm, Errol Flynn, of course, looks right," and then had to go back and think really hard about our actual Errol to dredge up his actual name.)
Wishing Frank a napportunity, and Suela an ongoing parental new normal (as well as either a miracle or a sudden escape hatch at work).
Does Errol act like Errol Flynn? I'm not sure that would be a great quality in an assistant surgeon, but it could be the basis of a new hospital drama/comedy.
He's as outrageously talented and as masterfully in command of that talent, in his way, as Flynn was in his, but alas he buckles no swashes in the OR.
Now that I pointed it out, the attending surgeons is kind of in love with the typo and doesn't want to change it. Since it's only in the written narrative and not the billing documentation, and he's only second assistant, she may be able to get away with it. This is, after all, the same university where a lab chief's golden retriever has eight second-author publications to his name.
A friend's father was a doctor. When my friend was a kid and the family dog sick, her dad took it to the hospital and had an MRI done. Later, a friend of his used the MRI data in a class, in a "What is wrong with this patient?" thing.
Eventually the class did figure out it was a dog.
This is, after all, the same university where a lab chief's golden retriever has eight second-author publications to his name.
My parents have goldens. Sweet but not the smartest. You'd think that poodles would be more likely to be published. Goldens are like the stoner slackers of the canine world.