I think this particular title comes from a Maurice Syndac book I read when I was little. I recall the book also being fairly small, and in it is a little boy with a very large wooden mixing spoon. I've always wanted a spoon like that. I always figured, The bigger the spoon, the better the soup! I love making soup.
This evening, I walked into the house to find that my housemate (PC-- stands for Pretty Cool. And if her middle name started with a D, she'd be Pretty Dagmn Cool, if you ask me...) is watching a musical on the TV in her bedroom. Loudly. Which is just down the hall from mine. And her door is open for air, since today was actually rather warm. I think summer might still be summering for a few more weeks here after all. sigh...
So anyway, I'm at home, going to my room, and I've gotten to the top of the stairs. In fact, I'm just rounding the end of the banister, not listening particularly closely to the actor in PC's musical, who is listing a bunch of specific ingredients as he mixes them all together...
The man in the musical intones: ...A bit of this, a dab of that, a cup of this, another ingredient or two, and a pinch of cohones.
I stopped with one hand still on the banister railing, and blinked bemusedly at her bedroom door.
...What are cohones? another TV personality asks.
...Don't ask. And the music swells with magic potion billowyness.
"I see breasts. And foam. Of Course the magic potion is foaming." PC says this the same way that one might say "I don't believe you. This is ridiculous. Of course I have a cavity, because this is a dream, and you are an evil dentist." Dryly, with total disbelief at the predictability of the situation.
"Hi PC," I say, and open the door to my room. Just another night here in wonderland. With breasts and cohones and foaming magic potion thrown in for fun. What the hell kind of musical was that, anyway??
Showing posts with label movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movies. Show all posts
Monday, August 17
Tuesday, July 22
Breakfast with a Boy
...well, okay. Breakfast with my Brother would probably be more accurate. But it was so less titillating! So Big D and I met for breakfast. I actually was pretty worried that I'd written down our final destination wrong when I arrived a few minutes late and didn't see him. Then I called to check, and woke him up. I didn't feel so bad after that.
THE FOOD WAS AWESOME. I'm going back sometime to try some of the other things on the menu that caught my attention-- and thinking about them has made me start to drool. mmmm And breakfast with Big D is a little like making a cameo appearance in a walking comic strip. Something funny is always about to happen, or maybe it just did. For example, our food arrived, and his first comment was, "I'd offer you a bite, but... well..."
We'd ordered the same thing.
And he told me all about the latest movies, too. Apparently the new Dark Knight Batman is REALLY DARK, and the rave reviews of the dead actor's acting are NOT hype or good will or anything of the sort. His acting is genuinely disturbing. I commented that Big D must really have loved the movie, then. "Yeaaaahhhh." He also highly suggests Wally as a great date movie. Apparently, the romance aspect is good but not overwhelming, so you can just enjoy the film. And apparently, half of it is silent because robots don't talk. And the movie that's next on his hit list? Kungfoo Kisses. I'm serious. They named a movie that. He feels a need to support any movie that actually allows for an Asian male lead. And this one is supposed to have a blonde American girl and a really hot Chinese girl fighting over Mr. Asian-- so it can't be ALL bad. All of which he told me BEFORE disclosing the name of the actual movie. Because if he'd said the name first, I'd have been laughing too hard to hear him say anything else about it.
Seriously. Kung Foo Kisses. WTF?!
So breakfast was good. Big D also clarified for me that (in boy world, which I don't even PRETEND to understand) if he picks you up, and it's one-on-one, and you're both single and interested in each other's gender-- it's a date. He's also responsible for yet another great dating question: "When will it be my turn to talk?" Thank you, D. I knew I could count on you.
(As a side note, I often wonder as I walk away from yet another awesome hour with Big D... Where were the cameras hidden THIS time???)
THE FOOD WAS AWESOME. I'm going back sometime to try some of the other things on the menu that caught my attention-- and thinking about them has made me start to drool. mmmm And breakfast with Big D is a little like making a cameo appearance in a walking comic strip. Something funny is always about to happen, or maybe it just did. For example, our food arrived, and his first comment was, "I'd offer you a bite, but... well..."
We'd ordered the same thing.
And he told me all about the latest movies, too. Apparently the new Dark Knight Batman is REALLY DARK, and the rave reviews of the dead actor's acting are NOT hype or good will or anything of the sort. His acting is genuinely disturbing. I commented that Big D must really have loved the movie, then. "Yeaaaahhhh." He also highly suggests Wally as a great date movie. Apparently, the romance aspect is good but not overwhelming, so you can just enjoy the film. And apparently, half of it is silent because robots don't talk. And the movie that's next on his hit list? Kungfoo Kisses. I'm serious. They named a movie that. He feels a need to support any movie that actually allows for an Asian male lead. And this one is supposed to have a blonde American girl and a really hot Chinese girl fighting over Mr. Asian-- so it can't be ALL bad. All of which he told me BEFORE disclosing the name of the actual movie. Because if he'd said the name first, I'd have been laughing too hard to hear him say anything else about it.
Seriously. Kung Foo Kisses. WTF?!
So breakfast was good. Big D also clarified for me that (in boy world, which I don't even PRETEND to understand) if he picks you up, and it's one-on-one, and you're both single and interested in each other's gender-- it's a date. He's also responsible for yet another great dating question: "When will it be my turn to talk?" Thank you, D. I knew I could count on you.
(As a side note, I often wonder as I walk away from yet another awesome hour with Big D... Where were the cameras hidden THIS time???)
Sunday, July 20
Polly Wolly Doodle
I nearly titled this Seven Hours of "Parking," but then I thought better of it. Then, I thought about calling it All The Things He Did Right... but again, it just wasn't what I wanted in a title...
The truth is... I'm not even sure today was a date. Defining it as that brings up a lot of the insecurities I haven't quite worked through yet. CatMan picked me up at 10:30am-ish. He played with the cats while I finished rushing around and pulling my shigt together, and then we were off... In a REALLY CUTE little red two-seater Toyota thingy. Apparently, he also has one in blue. I think this car was born in the '80's, and it was just FUN to ride in, without being the "pimp-daddy date car" that it could easily have been. Part of the fun was that CatMan is a good driver, and I could actually ignore the road and focus on the conversation while we drove out to the well-treed park we were planning to walk around in. It was actually very easy to relax and allow the whole day to just unfold. I really appreciated that.
The plan was to take a short jaunt through the tree-lined paths of the public park, nosh on some munchies (he brought cheese and crackers and berries from his yummy black raspberry bush and a knife to cut the bread and napkins and...-- I brought Dave's Killer Bread and some Mediterranean Kalamata Olives), and get home again before the day got hot.
But we had such easy conversation, and it was so much cooler among the trees, that we eventually ran out of trail and settled on a park bench (in the PARK, so technically we were "PARKING") for another hour or two of talk. Just talk. Really. I think we got back to my place (and promptly walked up the street for an ice cream cone and some more conversation) around 6pm.
Turns out he's an ice cream freak. Not as bad as I am, but close. Turns out, he takes my teasing pretty well-- though I wasn't always sure he knew I WAS teasing him. I might need to work on that. And while I'm into corny action flicks, he's into corny action heroes (and the constant rash of tv series about them)... I own more DVDs, but his CD collection outweighs mine by a couple of decibel points. (Ahem-- I meant decimal. I did.)
We both have moms who like to collect and/or save large quantities of inexpensive and potentially useful storage items. (read: pack rats)... He's into live and let live yard work, and he's scrupulous about it. I'm happy I don't have a yard (though I do dream of an herb garden and some shade trees one day...), and I'm glad to hear the baby maples stand a chance, even if the conifer doesn't. Basically, we had entire conversations about stuff that the other person knew almost but not quite completely NOTHING ABOUT, even though you'd think from the outside that the topics we each enjoyed would seriously overlap at some point. It was very entertaining.
We both seem to be at a point where we'd rather not have a relationship at all than settle for one that's not so great. And, like I said, we both love ice cream. I have to say, I think there's potential. Isn't that bizarre?
And, truthfully, it's a little scary.
The truth is... I'm not even sure today was a date. Defining it as that brings up a lot of the insecurities I haven't quite worked through yet. CatMan picked me up at 10:30am-ish. He played with the cats while I finished rushing around and pulling my shigt together, and then we were off... In a REALLY CUTE little red two-seater Toyota thingy. Apparently, he also has one in blue. I think this car was born in the '80's, and it was just FUN to ride in, without being the "pimp-daddy date car" that it could easily have been. Part of the fun was that CatMan is a good driver, and I could actually ignore the road and focus on the conversation while we drove out to the well-treed park we were planning to walk around in. It was actually very easy to relax and allow the whole day to just unfold. I really appreciated that.
The plan was to take a short jaunt through the tree-lined paths of the public park, nosh on some munchies (he brought cheese and crackers and berries from his yummy black raspberry bush and a knife to cut the bread and napkins and...-- I brought Dave's Killer Bread and some Mediterranean Kalamata Olives), and get home again before the day got hot.
But we had such easy conversation, and it was so much cooler among the trees, that we eventually ran out of trail and settled on a park bench (in the PARK, so technically we were "PARKING") for another hour or two of talk. Just talk. Really. I think we got back to my place (and promptly walked up the street for an ice cream cone and some more conversation) around 6pm.
Turns out he's an ice cream freak. Not as bad as I am, but close. Turns out, he takes my teasing pretty well-- though I wasn't always sure he knew I WAS teasing him. I might need to work on that. And while I'm into corny action flicks, he's into corny action heroes (and the constant rash of tv series about them)... I own more DVDs, but his CD collection outweighs mine by a couple of decibel points. (Ahem-- I meant decimal. I did.)
We both have moms who like to collect and/or save large quantities of inexpensive and potentially useful storage items. (read: pack rats)... He's into live and let live yard work, and he's scrupulous about it. I'm happy I don't have a yard (though I do dream of an herb garden and some shade trees one day...), and I'm glad to hear the baby maples stand a chance, even if the conifer doesn't. Basically, we had entire conversations about stuff that the other person knew almost but not quite completely NOTHING ABOUT, even though you'd think from the outside that the topics we each enjoyed would seriously overlap at some point. It was very entertaining.
We both seem to be at a point where we'd rather not have a relationship at all than settle for one that's not so great. And, like I said, we both love ice cream. I have to say, I think there's potential. Isn't that bizarre?
And, truthfully, it's a little scary.
Monday, May 5
Spring Fever
So, with one rainy exception, we've had three or four days of warm sunny weather in a row. Didn't it snow just last week?! Not that I'm complaining. I'm just... WONDERING... is all.
Remember the horrid fly invasion of '07? The one where I finally discovered that a whole bag of potatoes had passed "rot" and gone right on to "sludge?" And had, in the process, given birth to a rather large number of little flies that NOTHING COULD KILL?! Yeah. I remember it quite clearly, actually. I ended up using the "kill-anything, but safe-for-your-home" bug spray to STUN the little buggers long enough for me to squish them-- individually. It took hours. Literally.
I'm not really big on killing other living things, but between the ant invasions and the flies, I've come to the handy conclusion that I have no moral problems with defending my home from invaders-- even little crawly ones. ESPECIALLY little crawly ones.
Well, not to bring up old pain or anything, but I recently had what seemed like the beginning of a new invading hoard-- horse flies. Those big metallic blue flies that are literally the size of your thumb-tip. Big. And, it turns out, LOUD. In fact, their ability to sound bigger than they actually are has become a bit of a problem. A really funny problem.
Every once in a while, we get airplanes flying past at night. And for a good minute before you hear them RIGHT OVER HEAD, all you can hear of the airplane coming is this droning rumble. It sounds EXACTLY like those dagm horse flies. And I've sat up and grabbed my rolled up magazine in self-defense more than once, only to realize I couldn't locate the fly because it was technically an airplane. Then there's my cell phone.
I got tired of forgetting to turn off the ringer every time I went to the library-- or forgetting to turn it back on when I left-- so I've just had my phone on "vibrate" for a couple of weeks now. I actually like the compromise. When I get text messages from my bank at 4am, I am no longer awakened every two minutes by a little "ding" to let me know I still haven't checked the message on my cell phone. I sleep through the "vibrate" noise quite well, really... Or I did before the flies came.
Finally this morning I realized that NO, I was NOT hearing yet another intermittent buzzing of yet another gigantic fly buzzing from window to window-- I was hearing the intermittent buzzing of my cell phone vibrating in my purse, telling me it was out of batteries.
In addition to all THOSE little coincidences of sound, the windows in my current apartment are single-pane, and rather old. Like, the house was built in the '40's old. So they just aren't much of a sound barrier. And there are flowering bushes right below the window. I'm realizing that I haven't actually been able to locate the flies that accompany the buzzing of the last two days-- the buzzing that wasn't explained by the cell phone, the airplane, or the neighbor's remodeling noises-- because I was hearing flies and bumblebees OUTSIDE OF MY WINDOWS!!!
I think maybe I can finally relax about the latest "invasion."
BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT I WAS REALLY GOING TO WRITE ABOUT...
With the latest natural invasion, I've had a sudden need to FIND THE SOURCE, which means doing a deep clean on my apartment. Luckily, it's Spring, so this would actually be the perfect time for such an action. Also, since about 80% of my belongings are currently in storage, I'm woefully unprepared for warm weather. I don't even know where my non-flannel sheets are packed. So, I'll be going through my tiny apartment and packing up anything I'm not using or won't need for the spring/summer months-- and then I'll be heading over to my storage unit, pulling every last thing I can lift out into the hallway, and sorting out the things I actually WANT to access.
I'll also be looking for any MORE stuff I can donate or otherwise get rid of with a light heart (I actually only kept 2/3 of my original belongings when I moved and put stuff in storage-- I've very little idea of what's left to begin with, really...) because my original packing job SUCKED, and I can't fit anything else into that storage space at the moment. This needs to change. It's a big space. And I want to have at least SOME access to the stuff I MIGHT need, but not every day, if you know what I mean.
Sigh.
Spring Fever is sounding rather painful this year.
I'd really expected to be moved into my next long-term home by now. This long-term limbo is really starting to wear on my good intentions (and my good vibrations-- the flies are just the tip of the ice berg on that one!)...
It's got to be at least as hard for my host family to still be living around ME as it is for me to still be living around them. I'm just so grateful that they gave my cat and I such a warm welcome, and that they haven't kicked us out yet. I guess it's time to start thinking up a new backup plan-- just in case I still don't have my future nailed down by midsummer. That would be pushing the welcome wagon a bit too far, even for me.
In the good news category, I've actually done a little yoga every morning for a week now. And all my creating fabrics have got an actual HOME, so there aren't mounds of crumpled fabric bits littering the floor and all available surfaces anymore. YAY! Also, uhhh.... I haven't needed to use the heater to keep my nose, toes, and rear from freezing for TWO NIGHTS now!! What a relief!! AND, I think I finally got my hands on my favorite version of one of my favorite all-time movies, Persuasion. OH! And I've been going for walks just about every day lately, so I feel like I'm doing the healthy thing fairly well. I'm really proud of that, actually.
So, hey-- let's end this on a good note. Maybe a C# or something...
Remember the horrid fly invasion of '07? The one where I finally discovered that a whole bag of potatoes had passed "rot" and gone right on to "sludge?" And had, in the process, given birth to a rather large number of little flies that NOTHING COULD KILL?! Yeah. I remember it quite clearly, actually. I ended up using the "kill-anything, but safe-for-your-home" bug spray to STUN the little buggers long enough for me to squish them-- individually. It took hours. Literally.
I'm not really big on killing other living things, but between the ant invasions and the flies, I've come to the handy conclusion that I have no moral problems with defending my home from invaders-- even little crawly ones. ESPECIALLY little crawly ones.
Well, not to bring up old pain or anything, but I recently had what seemed like the beginning of a new invading hoard-- horse flies. Those big metallic blue flies that are literally the size of your thumb-tip. Big. And, it turns out, LOUD. In fact, their ability to sound bigger than they actually are has become a bit of a problem. A really funny problem.
Every once in a while, we get airplanes flying past at night. And for a good minute before you hear them RIGHT OVER HEAD, all you can hear of the airplane coming is this droning rumble. It sounds EXACTLY like those dagm horse flies. And I've sat up and grabbed my rolled up magazine in self-defense more than once, only to realize I couldn't locate the fly because it was technically an airplane. Then there's my cell phone.
I got tired of forgetting to turn off the ringer every time I went to the library-- or forgetting to turn it back on when I left-- so I've just had my phone on "vibrate" for a couple of weeks now. I actually like the compromise. When I get text messages from my bank at 4am, I am no longer awakened every two minutes by a little "ding" to let me know I still haven't checked the message on my cell phone. I sleep through the "vibrate" noise quite well, really... Or I did before the flies came.
Finally this morning I realized that NO, I was NOT hearing yet another intermittent buzzing of yet another gigantic fly buzzing from window to window-- I was hearing the intermittent buzzing of my cell phone vibrating in my purse, telling me it was out of batteries.
In addition to all THOSE little coincidences of sound, the windows in my current apartment are single-pane, and rather old. Like, the house was built in the '40's old. So they just aren't much of a sound barrier. And there are flowering bushes right below the window. I'm realizing that I haven't actually been able to locate the flies that accompany the buzzing of the last two days-- the buzzing that wasn't explained by the cell phone, the airplane, or the neighbor's remodeling noises-- because I was hearing flies and bumblebees OUTSIDE OF MY WINDOWS!!!
I think maybe I can finally relax about the latest "invasion."
BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT I WAS REALLY GOING TO WRITE ABOUT...
With the latest natural invasion, I've had a sudden need to FIND THE SOURCE, which means doing a deep clean on my apartment. Luckily, it's Spring, so this would actually be the perfect time for such an action. Also, since about 80% of my belongings are currently in storage, I'm woefully unprepared for warm weather. I don't even know where my non-flannel sheets are packed. So, I'll be going through my tiny apartment and packing up anything I'm not using or won't need for the spring/summer months-- and then I'll be heading over to my storage unit, pulling every last thing I can lift out into the hallway, and sorting out the things I actually WANT to access.
I'll also be looking for any MORE stuff I can donate or otherwise get rid of with a light heart (I actually only kept 2/3 of my original belongings when I moved and put stuff in storage-- I've very little idea of what's left to begin with, really...) because my original packing job SUCKED, and I can't fit anything else into that storage space at the moment. This needs to change. It's a big space. And I want to have at least SOME access to the stuff I MIGHT need, but not every day, if you know what I mean.
Sigh.
Spring Fever is sounding rather painful this year.
I'd really expected to be moved into my next long-term home by now. This long-term limbo is really starting to wear on my good intentions (and my good vibrations-- the flies are just the tip of the ice berg on that one!)...
It's got to be at least as hard for my host family to still be living around ME as it is for me to still be living around them. I'm just so grateful that they gave my cat and I such a warm welcome, and that they haven't kicked us out yet. I guess it's time to start thinking up a new backup plan-- just in case I still don't have my future nailed down by midsummer. That would be pushing the welcome wagon a bit too far, even for me.
In the good news category, I've actually done a little yoga every morning for a week now. And all my creating fabrics have got an actual HOME, so there aren't mounds of crumpled fabric bits littering the floor and all available surfaces anymore. YAY! Also, uhhh.... I haven't needed to use the heater to keep my nose, toes, and rear from freezing for TWO NIGHTS now!! What a relief!! AND, I think I finally got my hands on my favorite version of one of my favorite all-time movies, Persuasion. OH! And I've been going for walks just about every day lately, so I feel like I'm doing the healthy thing fairly well. I'm really proud of that, actually.
So, hey-- let's end this on a good note. Maybe a C# or something...
Tuesday, January 1
Moving On
I've decided that Christmas Cards this year are a total wash. Just not on my top ten priorities list, and not likely to get there before February. Sigh. So I guess I'm saving myself some money for next year, right? Except next year, I had hoped to have time to MAKE my cards again, thus justifying some small portion of the ridiculous money I spent on stamps, paper, etc between 2004-2006. Oh, well. I think I really spent that money because it meant I could spent those four hours a month with a really cool group of non-military women. And for that, it was TOTALLY worth every penny.
In other news, I LOVE my new car. I haven't tabulated the gas mileage yet, but the fact that I was able to drive for something like five hours straight without going below 1/4 tank? Happy. I also find that I like being able to close the trunk, and know nobody can see all the crap I've stored there. And the 6 CD-changer is nice. And the built-in Blue Tooth capability. That's a new one on me. Built-in wireless phoning. On my steering wheel. But now that I've programmed in the voice-recognized phone numbers I'm most likely to call in heavy traffic (usually because that means I'm STUCK in heavy traffic, and going to be late), I think I'm a convert.
Especially with my recent commitment to SERIOUSLY SAFE DRIVING. SERIOUSLY. I wasn't sure I'd be okay talking on the phone (or any other not-so-safe thing you always end up doing in the car) ever again after the accident, but... well... Being able to push a single button and start talking to the air, and then push another single button and be disconnected-- I feel fairly safe with that system.
Now all I need is a frog. Bumper sticker. For my car. To replace the one I lost with the CR-V. And I have to decide whether or not it'd be a good thing to put my "I heart herbs!" bumper sticker on my car. Especially since I do buy dried herbs like lavender and comfrey and peppermint and Nettle from a local herbalist on a fairly regular basis... It's like the time a friend found my stash of unsweetened finely-grated coconut in the glove compartment. A nice fine white powdery blob of COCONUT in a little plastic baggie... Yeah.
Anyway, Did I tell you I found three different emergency medical kits in the CR-V when I cleaned it out? I threw out the moldy one (yuck!), and put the best of the remaining two into the new vehicle. Once I get my little sample carpet square back in the trunk (for if I get stuck on ice or in snow-- before that I had clumping cat litter. I hadn't really thought that one thru...), I'll be good to go. After all, it IS winter.
I've agreed to nanny through January. I'm determined to actually do the 2-3 posts a week I was originally hired to do for LJ online. I've got a short web-design job lined up for an aunt of mine, and I'm moving to a new temporary apartment until I get a full time job, or until it stops being a good place for me to be. I'm also trying to cut my belongings (clothing, books, furniture, archives, sundry craft supplies, and paper-saving tendencies) down by about 1/3 before I move. Somehow, being done with school has not had the "time-suddenly-available" effect on my life that I'd hoped for.
And somewhere in all this, I still do need to be applying for actual LIBRARIAN JOBS. I'm really determined that my next real job will pay more than $10 an hour. Like, maybe, $20-30 an hour instead. After all, I have a terminal master's degree now. And I'm going to be paying for it for a long time. Loooooooooooonnnngggggggg Tiiiiiimmmmmmeee
Yes.Terminally.
Beyond that, I feel rather silly, and thought I'd share the laugh with you-- at myself, as usual. See, I was starting to realize that I don't want too much furniture that I can't lift (or at least shove back and forth) by myself. And I want to give back to people all the stuff they've been so great about loaning me over the last two years. So I'm planning to return the borrowed, customized, 300 lb TV to my really awesome friend H. And with that gone, I started to wonder how I'd watch my "relax and vegetate" movies... so I thought about getting a new cheap TV (they don't exist), or maybe just a computer screen (totally possible, but actually MORE expensive), and then I remembered that some guy at a party said it was cheaper for him to just get a projector and project his movies on the wall... (yeah, right)... So I called an expert. Well, actually, I called the expert's wife. (Hi James!) And he clarified that it is VERY expensive to buy a computer screen with normal DVD-player hookups in it. But, he agreed with his wife that I could probably watch my DVDs on MY EXISTING COMPUTER for quite a few months before I wore out the DVD/CD drive. Oh.
Right. I HAVE a computer that can play movies. Duh.
Thank goodness I talked to a few sensible people before I went and broke my budget. Again. And actually, having tested it, my computer has better resolution and clearer sound than the really really BIG TV that I'm borrowing. And I can lift it, all by myself. So now I'm wondering if they don't make external computer DVD-reading hard drives for cheap... so I can keep from wearing out the one inside my computer. And I'm not quite sure what to do with my perfectly good fairly new DVD player. Also, I realize that I'm going to miss the personalized cup-holder in the old TV. Somewhat.
In other news, I LOVE my new car. I haven't tabulated the gas mileage yet, but the fact that I was able to drive for something like five hours straight without going below 1/4 tank? Happy. I also find that I like being able to close the trunk, and know nobody can see all the crap I've stored there. And the 6 CD-changer is nice. And the built-in Blue Tooth capability. That's a new one on me. Built-in wireless phoning. On my steering wheel. But now that I've programmed in the voice-recognized phone numbers I'm most likely to call in heavy traffic (usually because that means I'm STUCK in heavy traffic, and going to be late), I think I'm a convert.
Especially with my recent commitment to SERIOUSLY SAFE DRIVING. SERIOUSLY. I wasn't sure I'd be okay talking on the phone (or any other not-so-safe thing you always end up doing in the car) ever again after the accident, but... well... Being able to push a single button and start talking to the air, and then push another single button and be disconnected-- I feel fairly safe with that system.
Now all I need is a frog. Bumper sticker. For my car. To replace the one I lost with the CR-V. And I have to decide whether or not it'd be a good thing to put my "I heart herbs!" bumper sticker on my car. Especially since I do buy dried herbs like lavender and comfrey and peppermint and Nettle from a local herbalist on a fairly regular basis... It's like the time a friend found my stash of unsweetened finely-grated coconut in the glove compartment. A nice fine white powdery blob of COCONUT in a little plastic baggie... Yeah.
Anyway, Did I tell you I found three different emergency medical kits in the CR-V when I cleaned it out? I threw out the moldy one (yuck!), and put the best of the remaining two into the new vehicle. Once I get my little sample carpet square back in the trunk (for if I get stuck on ice or in snow-- before that I had clumping cat litter. I hadn't really thought that one thru...), I'll be good to go. After all, it IS winter.
I've agreed to nanny through January. I'm determined to actually do the 2-3 posts a week I was originally hired to do for LJ online. I've got a short web-design job lined up for an aunt of mine, and I'm moving to a new temporary apartment until I get a full time job, or until it stops being a good place for me to be. I'm also trying to cut my belongings (clothing, books, furniture, archives, sundry craft supplies, and paper-saving tendencies) down by about 1/3 before I move. Somehow, being done with school has not had the "time-suddenly-available" effect on my life that I'd hoped for.
And somewhere in all this, I still do need to be applying for actual LIBRARIAN JOBS. I'm really determined that my next real job will pay more than $10 an hour. Like, maybe, $20-30 an hour instead. After all, I have a terminal master's degree now. And I'm going to be paying for it for a long time. Loooooooooooonnnngggggggg Tiiiiiimmmmmmeee
Yes.Terminally.
Beyond that, I feel rather silly, and thought I'd share the laugh with you-- at myself, as usual. See, I was starting to realize that I don't want too much furniture that I can't lift (or at least shove back and forth) by myself. And I want to give back to people all the stuff they've been so great about loaning me over the last two years. So I'm planning to return the borrowed, customized, 300 lb TV to my really awesome friend H. And with that gone, I started to wonder how I'd watch my "relax and vegetate" movies... so I thought about getting a new cheap TV (they don't exist), or maybe just a computer screen (totally possible, but actually MORE expensive), and then I remembered that some guy at a party said it was cheaper for him to just get a projector and project his movies on the wall... (yeah, right)... So I called an expert. Well, actually, I called the expert's wife. (Hi James!) And he clarified that it is VERY expensive to buy a computer screen with normal DVD-player hookups in it. But, he agreed with his wife that I could probably watch my DVDs on MY EXISTING COMPUTER for quite a few months before I wore out the DVD/CD drive. Oh.
Right. I HAVE a computer that can play movies. Duh.
Thank goodness I talked to a few sensible people before I went and broke my budget. Again. And actually, having tested it, my computer has better resolution and clearer sound than the really really BIG TV that I'm borrowing. And I can lift it, all by myself. So now I'm wondering if they don't make external computer DVD-reading hard drives for cheap... so I can keep from wearing out the one inside my computer. And I'm not quite sure what to do with my perfectly good fairly new DVD player. Also, I realize that I'm going to miss the personalized cup-holder in the old TV. Somewhat.
Monday, August 20
Heroines, A Quiz
I just took the Jane Austen Heroines Quiz. Fairly accurate. Friggen Funny.
Here's me--
Here's me--
I'm Anne Elliot. Who I totally identified with and loved when I saw the movie, and who has the last name I always wanted, and who even (in a very small way) looks like me. COOL! Of course, I'm not so big on doing things the way my family has always done it or something-- but I am big on doing things the right way, being the good girl, as it were... much the same sense of responsibility and willingness to take on other's problems-- easily persuaded if it might be the right thing to do, don't you know...
So go have fun, take the quiz (thanks, Shana, for pointing it out to me), and let me know what heroine YOU are! =) I tell you, this is better than horoscopes!
http://www.strangegirl.com/austenquiz/
:: A N N E ::
You are Anne Elliot of Persuasion! Let's face it, you're easily persuaded, especially when faced with choices that are or aren't 'the Elliot way.' But this doesn't mean that you don't have conviction. Actually, your sense of duty is overwhelming. And though you won't stick your neck out too often, you have learned to speak up when it counts. To boot, you know how to handle sticky situations. You love deeply and constantly.
Saturday, May 12
So Totally... I Don't Know.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love Netflix? Love it. Recently, I received Noises Off in my mailbox. I haven't gotten my hands on this particular DVD-o-CornyHumor in many years... like since high school some time. And I probably inflicted it on all my poor high school friends (hi, H!) then, too.
Anyway, one of the characters doesn't use nouns. Ever. His use of adjectives is also fairly spotty. The title of this blog is a direct quote from one of his speeches in the movie. He's telling the director of the play that he's worked with a lot of directors, but never one "who is so totally... I don't know." It's a profound sentiment. Really.
I have the same reaction to my recent afternoon playing hooky (from my own list of to-do chores on my day off, no less) in a very specific neighborhood of the local big city. It was an afternoon that left me laughing, and at a complete loss for how to explain its profundity. Good lord! Profundity is a WORD! that my spellchecker KNOWS! Will wonders never cease.
I started the afternoon having a great little mutual vent with a girlfriend while standing in front of my hair salon. I really think beauty parlours are the unofficial counseling center of the world, you know. I've gotten the best haircuts from women who became close personal friends and confidants. And some of the worst wax jobs from women who didn't.
Anyway, had my hairs cut-- all but this one she always misses because it tucks itself behind my ear until she's sent me on my way-- at which point it hangs down and starts tickling my neck relentlessly. Feels exactly like a mosquito in heat. ARGH!!!! Then I decided to swing by this one little cool strip in East downtown-- and maybe drop into the bead store there or something. Came at the strip from a direction I've never come from before, and as a result I parked about four blocks further down the street than I intended-- and found not one but THREE shops I'd never even seen before but was quite interested to visit.
The first shop... well, I went in under the mistaken assumption that it was a kitchen boutique. The storefront said something about cutlery and gifts. Yeah. The bald mannequin holding an offering plate with red lipstick and a samurai sword on his back should have alerted me... but you know... that sort of thing is NORMAL on the strip, so I didn't even stop to consider. Yeah. I should have been checking the area for cameras. It was at this point that my afternoon went from "unscripted" to "I just know somebody has got to be filming this!"
The store was a samurai's dream. There was actually a little bit of cutlery on the back wall, by the way. A very little bit. The smallest paring knife was priced at $43.-- Most of the stuff in the cases and on the walls had nothing to do with the kitchen, however. Samurai swords, throwing swords, jungle-hackers, pocket knives, belt knives, throwing stars... Plus racks of robes, traditional leather body armor, symbols of protection, and a young man behind the counter with one of those shaved heads and a long flowing ponytail at the crown of his head-- showing an older gentleman in a nice button-up shirt and slacks how to play a bamboo flute.
I left the store about 45 minutes later having received a dinner invitation (or just tea if I'm not ready to date yet after my divorce-- do I like tea??), a phone number, a short reiki-style healing, a conversation about car accidents and military tactics (and the resulting emotional trauma of each), and a CD of personally recorded gospel music. WTF?? All I can say is that it was par for course on the strip, and it was actually quite a fun conversation with the nice Christian Grandfather (with over 57 years of experience with blades of all sorts, and a wife who played piano on the CD) and the nice Samurai Man (with a weird ponytail, and several recent car accidents under his belt, who wants to take me out for tea). I left feeling loved.
I sat down on the next set of steps I passed and called a friend. Someone who could appreciate how FUNNY the last hour had been. Umm... I just had an experience that was just so totally... I don't know. Help? Then we both started laughing at the absurdity of it all. Only on the strip, she said.
There's a bumper sticker I see very occasionally on cars out here, and I totally want one. It's a great shade of purple, and all it says is "COEXIST." However, each of the letters in the word has been turned (quite obviously, and with no loss of readability, if you can believe it) into a religious symbol, ranging from the Star of David to the Christian Cross to the Pagan five-point Star, to a bunch of other stuff. The reason I bring up this bumper sticker is that I've lived here for over a year now, and I still haven't found one store that actually CARRIES this bumper sticker.
Until Thursday. When I found the second store I'd never been in before. To get to it, you have to walk through a side entrance to a little diner (which said diner was closed, adding to the oddity of the entrance program), up some stairs, and into this little reformed attic of an old house which is full of a mix of eclectic new age books, candle holders, sketchy essential oil home-mixes, and slightly pogrnographigc plastic statues of witches wearing little black dresses and bent way over their cauldrons, Betty-Boop style.
HOWEVER, the ceiling rafters were lined with cool bumper stickers. Including the elusive COEXIST. Which the proprietor has to reorder before I can go back and buy one. And the store itself was definitely a trip. I'm not sure what the destination was, but hey-- it's all about the journey, right? I left there with an inexpensive and scholarly book about the role of Women in ancient Celtic life (a side interest of mine-- I designed an independent study course in college about Celtic and Irish folklore, and had the damnedest time finding anything about women that wasn't how they were virgins or shape-shifting faeries or really vengeful deities, so this was something of interest), and a total feeling of... I don't know.
Walk on down the strip, enter the third store. This is a store on the part of the strip I've visited in the past. I've often thought it looked like a neat place for unusual jewelry and random stuff. I just never knew for sure because every time I go past it, it's CLOSED. Except Thursday. It was open. Actually open. I've walked past on a Thursday before, you know. I tell you, it was closed. I went in. And immediately got sucked into a political rant about the current state of the world, and our little corner of it by the store owner. Luckily, we were on the same side. I don't even think the poor man stopped to breathe.
All I did was comment on the cool pendants in his display case, and he went off about the rising price of silver on the open market, to be followed quickly by a series of quiz questions about the earnings of our city cops vs a cop in New York City, and a living wage being about $20,000 a year if you want to be able to compete with workers in China, and he went from there to ... well, anyway, he gave me a price break on the one little trinket I did pick up, because I listened to him rant for about 30 minutes, and because he found out that I plan to be a public librarian some day. He feels I'll be "right there in the trenches!" And he has a lot of respect for that. And I know what he means. (But I still like breathing better than complaining in most circumstances. And a lot of my sentences may be run-ons, but MY GOD! this man would have given an English teacher a heart attack!)
See, Public Librarians don't get paid as much as Academic Librarians (college/university types), don't have the same job security, and don't get to be snobs about who they serve. Public Librarians have the goal of bringing library services to under served populations, and this includes the homeless, the homebound, the illiterate, the ill, the recent immigrant and don't forget the incarcerated and incompetent! I think that's part of what draws me to the field. You get to help people who really need help, or at least will make good use of what help is offered in many instances-- to make their lives better and happier-- and to help them become a bit more self-sufficient as they do it. Our goal is to help as many people as possible help themselves. And it's hard, dirty, smelly, difficult work at times.
I did eventually make it to the bead store, by the way. I learned that they only carry rainbow obsidian, which I don't want, and a lot of onxy, which appears to be easier to find, but I also don't want. Odd, really, considering all the active volcanoes along the West Coast.
Not sure this post has a point... but I would say that I loved meeting so many strangers who were educated, eloquent, and so obviously comfortable with expressing exactly who they are and what they believe. People who took me at face value, and gave what they have to give-- to all comers, regardless. I could learn a lesson from that. I definitely learned a lesson in judgment from the Gospel Grandfather and the Reiki Samurai Youth-- who were obviously old friends, regardless of differences in belief and background.
I find that in today's world, it's a challenge to be who you are, and to not worry about being liked or accepted or approved-- by anyone. To find a place in the world where you can make a living in line with your belief system, without compromise. That's the beauty of the strip, and I think, the secret to its success. You find elegant conservative business men, little old grandmothers, out witches, spaced-out Rastafarians, rainbow couples, and everyone in between enjoying the strip and its offerings. They know who they are, and they know they'll find something they like on the strip, because each store has something specific to offer, even if it's just a good bagel and shmear.
Self, thy name is... I don't know. With a lot of individuality and good humor thrown in. And as a side note, can I just tell you that I found a dead yellow jacket in my salad at lunch today?! People, WASH YOUR PRODUCE before you eat it. This is an important tip from the trenches.
Anyway, one of the characters doesn't use nouns. Ever. His use of adjectives is also fairly spotty. The title of this blog is a direct quote from one of his speeches in the movie. He's telling the director of the play that he's worked with a lot of directors, but never one "who is so totally... I don't know." It's a profound sentiment. Really.
I have the same reaction to my recent afternoon playing hooky (from my own list of to-do chores on my day off, no less) in a very specific neighborhood of the local big city. It was an afternoon that left me laughing, and at a complete loss for how to explain its profundity. Good lord! Profundity is a WORD! that my spellchecker KNOWS! Will wonders never cease.
I started the afternoon having a great little mutual vent with a girlfriend while standing in front of my hair salon. I really think beauty parlours are the unofficial counseling center of the world, you know. I've gotten the best haircuts from women who became close personal friends and confidants. And some of the worst wax jobs from women who didn't.
Anyway, had my hairs cut-- all but this one she always misses because it tucks itself behind my ear until she's sent me on my way-- at which point it hangs down and starts tickling my neck relentlessly. Feels exactly like a mosquito in heat. ARGH!!!! Then I decided to swing by this one little cool strip in East downtown-- and maybe drop into the bead store there or something. Came at the strip from a direction I've never come from before, and as a result I parked about four blocks further down the street than I intended-- and found not one but THREE shops I'd never even seen before but was quite interested to visit.
The first shop... well, I went in under the mistaken assumption that it was a kitchen boutique. The storefront said something about cutlery and gifts. Yeah. The bald mannequin holding an offering plate with red lipstick and a samurai sword on his back should have alerted me... but you know... that sort of thing is NORMAL on the strip, so I didn't even stop to consider. Yeah. I should have been checking the area for cameras. It was at this point that my afternoon went from "unscripted" to "I just know somebody has got to be filming this!"
The store was a samurai's dream. There was actually a little bit of cutlery on the back wall, by the way. A very little bit. The smallest paring knife was priced at $43.-- Most of the stuff in the cases and on the walls had nothing to do with the kitchen, however. Samurai swords, throwing swords, jungle-hackers, pocket knives, belt knives, throwing stars... Plus racks of robes, traditional leather body armor, symbols of protection, and a young man behind the counter with one of those shaved heads and a long flowing ponytail at the crown of his head-- showing an older gentleman in a nice button-up shirt and slacks how to play a bamboo flute.
I left the store about 45 minutes later having received a dinner invitation (or just tea if I'm not ready to date yet after my divorce-- do I like tea??), a phone number, a short reiki-style healing, a conversation about car accidents and military tactics (and the resulting emotional trauma of each), and a CD of personally recorded gospel music. WTF?? All I can say is that it was par for course on the strip, and it was actually quite a fun conversation with the nice Christian Grandfather (with over 57 years of experience with blades of all sorts, and a wife who played piano on the CD) and the nice Samurai Man (with a weird ponytail, and several recent car accidents under his belt, who wants to take me out for tea). I left feeling loved.
I sat down on the next set of steps I passed and called a friend. Someone who could appreciate how FUNNY the last hour had been. Umm... I just had an experience that was just so totally... I don't know. Help? Then we both started laughing at the absurdity of it all. Only on the strip, she said.
There's a bumper sticker I see very occasionally on cars out here, and I totally want one. It's a great shade of purple, and all it says is "COEXIST." However, each of the letters in the word has been turned (quite obviously, and with no loss of readability, if you can believe it) into a religious symbol, ranging from the Star of David to the Christian Cross to the Pagan five-point Star, to a bunch of other stuff. The reason I bring up this bumper sticker is that I've lived here for over a year now, and I still haven't found one store that actually CARRIES this bumper sticker.
Until Thursday. When I found the second store I'd never been in before. To get to it, you have to walk through a side entrance to a little diner (which said diner was closed, adding to the oddity of the entrance program), up some stairs, and into this little reformed attic of an old house which is full of a mix of eclectic new age books, candle holders, sketchy essential oil home-mixes, and slightly pogrnographigc plastic statues of witches wearing little black dresses and bent way over their cauldrons, Betty-Boop style.
HOWEVER, the ceiling rafters were lined with cool bumper stickers. Including the elusive COEXIST. Which the proprietor has to reorder before I can go back and buy one. And the store itself was definitely a trip. I'm not sure what the destination was, but hey-- it's all about the journey, right? I left there with an inexpensive and scholarly book about the role of Women in ancient Celtic life (a side interest of mine-- I designed an independent study course in college about Celtic and Irish folklore, and had the damnedest time finding anything about women that wasn't how they were virgins or shape-shifting faeries or really vengeful deities, so this was something of interest), and a total feeling of... I don't know.
Walk on down the strip, enter the third store. This is a store on the part of the strip I've visited in the past. I've often thought it looked like a neat place for unusual jewelry and random stuff. I just never knew for sure because every time I go past it, it's CLOSED. Except Thursday. It was open. Actually open. I've walked past on a Thursday before, you know. I tell you, it was closed. I went in. And immediately got sucked into a political rant about the current state of the world, and our little corner of it by the store owner. Luckily, we were on the same side. I don't even think the poor man stopped to breathe.
All I did was comment on the cool pendants in his display case, and he went off about the rising price of silver on the open market, to be followed quickly by a series of quiz questions about the earnings of our city cops vs a cop in New York City, and a living wage being about $20,000 a year if you want to be able to compete with workers in China, and he went from there to ... well, anyway, he gave me a price break on the one little trinket I did pick up, because I listened to him rant for about 30 minutes, and because he found out that I plan to be a public librarian some day. He feels I'll be "right there in the trenches!" And he has a lot of respect for that. And I know what he means. (But I still like breathing better than complaining in most circumstances. And a lot of my sentences may be run-ons, but MY GOD! this man would have given an English teacher a heart attack!)
See, Public Librarians don't get paid as much as Academic Librarians (college/university types), don't have the same job security, and don't get to be snobs about who they serve. Public Librarians have the goal of bringing library services to under served populations, and this includes the homeless, the homebound, the illiterate, the ill, the recent immigrant and don't forget the incarcerated and incompetent! I think that's part of what draws me to the field. You get to help people who really need help, or at least will make good use of what help is offered in many instances-- to make their lives better and happier-- and to help them become a bit more self-sufficient as they do it. Our goal is to help as many people as possible help themselves. And it's hard, dirty, smelly, difficult work at times.
I did eventually make it to the bead store, by the way. I learned that they only carry rainbow obsidian, which I don't want, and a lot of onxy, which appears to be easier to find, but I also don't want. Odd, really, considering all the active volcanoes along the West Coast.
Not sure this post has a point... but I would say that I loved meeting so many strangers who were educated, eloquent, and so obviously comfortable with expressing exactly who they are and what they believe. People who took me at face value, and gave what they have to give-- to all comers, regardless. I could learn a lesson from that. I definitely learned a lesson in judgment from the Gospel Grandfather and the Reiki Samurai Youth-- who were obviously old friends, regardless of differences in belief and background.
I find that in today's world, it's a challenge to be who you are, and to not worry about being liked or accepted or approved-- by anyone. To find a place in the world where you can make a living in line with your belief system, without compromise. That's the beauty of the strip, and I think, the secret to its success. You find elegant conservative business men, little old grandmothers, out witches, spaced-out Rastafarians, rainbow couples, and everyone in between enjoying the strip and its offerings. They know who they are, and they know they'll find something they like on the strip, because each store has something specific to offer, even if it's just a good bagel and shmear.
Self, thy name is... I don't know. With a lot of individuality and good humor thrown in. And as a side note, can I just tell you that I found a dead yellow jacket in my salad at lunch today?! People, WASH YOUR PRODUCE before you eat it. This is an important tip from the trenches.
Tuesday, April 24
He Thinks He's A Gift
So. (I say this every time because it's my way of pausing to organize my thoughts before you have to start reading them. Considering how they come out, aren't you glad you can't hear what I'm THINKING??)
So we all have that little list of things we're going to buy ourselves someday, right? It might not even be written down-- it might just be this wish list you keep in your head. Which is great, as far as it goes. But lately, I've been getting frustrated grunts from friends and family when things like my birthday or Christmas come near (Can I just tell you that my cat did an unintentional back flip off her favorite chair, and decided that meant it was a good time for a nibble at her food bowl? Nothing like the need to save face!)... err... what was I going off about?
Right. Wish lists.
My mom actually wants to give me something I'd like to get (she's actually been wanting this for a good two years now-- in fact, last Christmas, she got me three of everything, just in case I didn't like two of them. "Now, if you don't like it, this isn't your gift."), and my costar friend has realized that I might tell her one day that I really want the soundtrack to Legally Blond, but that by the following Thursday, it's about 35% likely that I've just gone ahead and gotten it for myself.
See, I have that list in my head like everyone else... it's just that "a solar-powered house" isn't easy to gift wrap. And all the little stuff- well, if I know I want it-- it's because I want it NOW. I've never been good at waiting like that. In fact, I used to pack for trips a good week or two before the family was going to leave, just so the clothes I wanted to bring would still be clean and stuff. And because I just couldn't WAIT that long with the "I want to bring THIS" sticky note yelling inside my head. Yeah. I literally wouldn't be able to sleep until I knew that everything I needed for the trip was ALREADY PACKED.
Luckily, the Army cured me of this. There we'd be, 3am, searching for THE OTHER PAIR OF SOCK CLIPS (these are like mini green bungee cords with metal hooks the size of your baby toenail on each end. You fasten them around the outside of your pants to get that regulation "folded-over" look down by your boots, and to cut off any remaining circulation to your feet. They were basically little elastic belts for your pant leg. The argmy is so weirdly vain!) so my then-husband could be all packed and regulation ready to go by 5am, having gotten the call at midnight that they WERE REALLY GOING at 5am on Friday instead of 3pm on Saturday like they'd promised. And, painful as it was (have I told you that I'm allergic to coffee?), it actually WAS good practice for when my then-husband did have to go to war in Iraq. They just didn't prepare him to find all his little gear-shit at the last minute WITHOUT ME. But that's another story.
Anyway, the point is that today I finally got online and started one of those online wish lists where you provide a link to the EXACT ITEM you want, and anybody who knows your name can go look it up. Yup. Just go visit (shudder) amazon.com and type in my name (my real one, with an i, not y, and two l's and two t's), and you can see the parts of my wish list that I've so far managed to quantify. I've even found the perfect lockable safe so that if my papers are ever threatened by a flood and a house fire at the same time, they'll survive. For an hour.
In the process, I found that it's actually quite difficult for me to quantify what I want. And that often, I'd find something similar to what I want... but not quite right. For instance. Do I wear a size 9, 10, or 11 in women's hiking socks? I have no idea. So I asked for one of each. Because you couldn't just select the socks, or the color of socks, that you wanted. This is not a casual day dream believer's list. This is serious stuff. This is accurate. This is exact. Good lord, did I remember to pack the hairdryer?! I've only got 3 months left to finish packing the list!! And I'm probably not going to get any sleep tonight, either. Sigh.
Well, at least I got the important stuff down. Like The Mummy Returns on DVD, and a new HDTV TV so I can own my own TV for once (because, of course, the one I am currently borrowing works perfectly fine, and therefore must be replaced), and a set of really REALLY useful metal shelves on casters so I can rearrange my own furniture. Yup. The important stuff.
Ya know, hard as I looked, I couldn't find an entry for world peace, and there wasn't one for clean air to breath, or unpolluted and unchlorinated water to drink... I'm too impatient to wait for someone else to buy me organic vegetables, so those didn't go on the list-- I get them every Saturday at my local Farmer's Market. But, man, the water sure would have been nice to add to the list. My cat pukes every time I forget to give her bottled water, and use the stuff from my kitchen tap. Yes. You heard me. My cat drinks bottled water. And, after discovering the REASON for all the puking (and falling in total love with the Green Machine I bought for the duration), I now drink bottled water, too. You can refill your old water jug for less than the price of a stamp down at the local grocer.
And that's another thing! Did you know the price of stamps is going up? AGAIN??
Another two cents. Mid May. The man in the iron mask told me the last time I went to visit him through the metal bars and ask for postage. If you thought 39 cents was odd, wait 'till you see 41 cents! Who's going to have change to get one of THOSE out of a vending machine?!
...Actually, he told the guy ahead of me in line, and then when it was my turn, I asked for some two cent stamps, since the price of postage was going up. The mail man behind the iron bars was so relieved to NOT have to tell me about it that he actually smiled. While inside his little "I might go postal, so don't ask why the bars are here" cage. Smiled. Wow. Maybe they could make it an even 50 cents, and make all the extra go to the public school system and the public libraries and other social services. That'd be nice. Maybe pigs fly. They make their own beds, you know. Honest. The pigs, that is. I wouldn't bet on the postal workers.
And what have I learned from all this? Well, just now I learned that "wishlist" is two words. That's important. I also learned that the most important things aren't always easy to find. They have to be created by the cooperative efforts of a whole lot of people. So they aren't easy to quantify, either. I also learned that I could probably add to the "I want that" list for a very very long time. It makes me feel all materialistic and selfish. It also made me realize that I no longer own a sleeping bag. Hmm. And come to think of it... I haven't felt the lack, either. I wonder what else around here I could go around NOT LACKING for the next few years...
So why, you ask, does he think he's a gift? Well... if you've ever met that guy who thinks you really should fall in love with him and be happy to go make out in the back of his car-- just by looking at him-- then you've met that guy who thinks he's a gift. What does this have to do with the post? Absolutely nothing. Thank goodness.
I tell you, I am SO not ready to date yet!
(But don't worry folks-- I'm happy, hearty, and whole. All I need in my life... is more bookshelves. And maybe a DVD of The Mummy Returns. I went out and ordered the soundtrack for Legally Blonde yesterday. It was part of my new years resolution, so I sorta felt justified on that one. After all. I've waited four months.)
So we all have that little list of things we're going to buy ourselves someday, right? It might not even be written down-- it might just be this wish list you keep in your head. Which is great, as far as it goes. But lately, I've been getting frustrated grunts from friends and family when things like my birthday or Christmas come near (Can I just tell you that my cat did an unintentional back flip off her favorite chair, and decided that meant it was a good time for a nibble at her food bowl? Nothing like the need to save face!)... err... what was I going off about?
Right. Wish lists.
My mom actually wants to give me something I'd like to get (she's actually been wanting this for a good two years now-- in fact, last Christmas, she got me three of everything, just in case I didn't like two of them. "Now, if you don't like it, this isn't your gift."), and my costar friend has realized that I might tell her one day that I really want the soundtrack to Legally Blond, but that by the following Thursday, it's about 35% likely that I've just gone ahead and gotten it for myself.
See, I have that list in my head like everyone else... it's just that "a solar-powered house" isn't easy to gift wrap. And all the little stuff- well, if I know I want it-- it's because I want it NOW. I've never been good at waiting like that. In fact, I used to pack for trips a good week or two before the family was going to leave, just so the clothes I wanted to bring would still be clean and stuff. And because I just couldn't WAIT that long with the "I want to bring THIS" sticky note yelling inside my head. Yeah. I literally wouldn't be able to sleep until I knew that everything I needed for the trip was ALREADY PACKED.
Luckily, the Army cured me of this. There we'd be, 3am, searching for THE OTHER PAIR OF SOCK CLIPS (these are like mini green bungee cords with metal hooks the size of your baby toenail on each end. You fasten them around the outside of your pants to get that regulation "folded-over" look down by your boots, and to cut off any remaining circulation to your feet. They were basically little elastic belts for your pant leg. The argmy is so weirdly vain!) so my then-husband could be all packed and regulation ready to go by 5am, having gotten the call at midnight that they WERE REALLY GOING at 5am on Friday instead of 3pm on Saturday like they'd promised. And, painful as it was (have I told you that I'm allergic to coffee?), it actually WAS good practice for when my then-husband did have to go to war in Iraq. They just didn't prepare him to find all his little gear-shit at the last minute WITHOUT ME. But that's another story.
Anyway, the point is that today I finally got online and started one of those online wish lists where you provide a link to the EXACT ITEM you want, and anybody who knows your name can go look it up. Yup. Just go visit (shudder) amazon.com and type in my name (my real one, with an i, not y, and two l's and two t's), and you can see the parts of my wish list that I've so far managed to quantify. I've even found the perfect lockable safe so that if my papers are ever threatened by a flood and a house fire at the same time, they'll survive. For an hour.
In the process, I found that it's actually quite difficult for me to quantify what I want. And that often, I'd find something similar to what I want... but not quite right. For instance. Do I wear a size 9, 10, or 11 in women's hiking socks? I have no idea. So I asked for one of each. Because you couldn't just select the socks, or the color of socks, that you wanted. This is not a casual day dream believer's list. This is serious stuff. This is accurate. This is exact. Good lord, did I remember to pack the hairdryer?! I've only got 3 months left to finish packing the list!! And I'm probably not going to get any sleep tonight, either. Sigh.
Well, at least I got the important stuff down. Like The Mummy Returns on DVD, and a new HDTV TV so I can own my own TV for once (because, of course, the one I am currently borrowing works perfectly fine, and therefore must be replaced), and a set of really REALLY useful metal shelves on casters so I can rearrange my own furniture. Yup. The important stuff.
Ya know, hard as I looked, I couldn't find an entry for world peace, and there wasn't one for clean air to breath, or unpolluted and unchlorinated water to drink... I'm too impatient to wait for someone else to buy me organic vegetables, so those didn't go on the list-- I get them every Saturday at my local Farmer's Market. But, man, the water sure would have been nice to add to the list. My cat pukes every time I forget to give her bottled water, and use the stuff from my kitchen tap. Yes. You heard me. My cat drinks bottled water. And, after discovering the REASON for all the puking (and falling in total love with the Green Machine I bought for the duration), I now drink bottled water, too. You can refill your old water jug for less than the price of a stamp down at the local grocer.
And that's another thing! Did you know the price of stamps is going up? AGAIN??
Another two cents. Mid May. The man in the iron mask told me the last time I went to visit him through the metal bars and ask for postage. If you thought 39 cents was odd, wait 'till you see 41 cents! Who's going to have change to get one of THOSE out of a vending machine?!
...Actually, he told the guy ahead of me in line, and then when it was my turn, I asked for some two cent stamps, since the price of postage was going up. The mail man behind the iron bars was so relieved to NOT have to tell me about it that he actually smiled. While inside his little "I might go postal, so don't ask why the bars are here" cage. Smiled. Wow. Maybe they could make it an even 50 cents, and make all the extra go to the public school system and the public libraries and other social services. That'd be nice. Maybe pigs fly. They make their own beds, you know. Honest. The pigs, that is. I wouldn't bet on the postal workers.
And what have I learned from all this? Well, just now I learned that "wishlist" is two words. That's important. I also learned that the most important things aren't always easy to find. They have to be created by the cooperative efforts of a whole lot of people. So they aren't easy to quantify, either. I also learned that I could probably add to the "I want that" list for a very very long time. It makes me feel all materialistic and selfish. It also made me realize that I no longer own a sleeping bag. Hmm. And come to think of it... I haven't felt the lack, either. I wonder what else around here I could go around NOT LACKING for the next few years...
So why, you ask, does he think he's a gift? Well... if you've ever met that guy who thinks you really should fall in love with him and be happy to go make out in the back of his car-- just by looking at him-- then you've met that guy who thinks he's a gift. What does this have to do with the post? Absolutely nothing. Thank goodness.
I tell you, I am SO not ready to date yet!
(But don't worry folks-- I'm happy, hearty, and whole. All I need in my life... is more bookshelves. And maybe a DVD of The Mummy Returns. I went out and ordered the soundtrack for Legally Blonde yesterday. It was part of my new years resolution, so I sorta felt justified on that one. After all. I've waited four months.)
Sunday, April 22
Blink Blink
Okay, so the title is cool, but the entry here is actually about Blog Links I love and follow. They're a weird assortment. You might not like and follow them with me. But at least you'll know what I'm talking about if they come up. I love keeping people informed that way.
Absolute Favorite:
Crazy Aunt Purl. See, this young 30's-ish woman and her three cats are learning to be adults, and she's from the south but she lives in CA, she's hilarious, and she grew an onion in her kitchen by mistake. It's name is Victor. Oh, and sometimes she knits.
The Other Official Blogs:
This Fish Needs a Bicycle. Wherein someone about my age and single deals with her life, and uses a dry sense of humor and a red hot poker to do it. Oh, and she just moved from NY to Texas with her cat, and had a wisdom tooth out. Graphically. But don't worry, folks-- she's a professional!
Dooce. Wherein a really not-quite-right-in-the-head woman lives with her husband and young daughter (who once stared straight at the conservative grandfather over dinner and yelled "SHIGT" at the top of her lungs for no apparent reason, and then went back to dinner while everyone else recovered) and says totally irreverent things about her life choices and life experiences.
Feel-Good Librarian. Wherein a reference desk librarian occasionally shares the experiences that make her world turn, to our great delight. Like when her coworker was asked to locate a photo of God for a young boy, or when she painted her fingernails cool colors to help her through a cancer surgery, and the nurses all practiced little acts of kindness that also made a big difference, thus reminding her how important good customer service can be.
A Librarian's Guide to Etiquette. Wherein a librarian unleashes his pithy observations in short, infrequent, and well-catalogued entries. My favorite to date was the one about getting caught playing Justin Timberlake music on your computer at work. See "Sexy Back, Bringing."
My Friends Have Blogs Too:
The Randomness That is Life. Shana likes NIN, her dog, and cooking. In that order. She's my costar in a really freaky sitcom comedy wherein they tape our lives, and then broadcast little bits of them so other people can laugh at the insanity. We've been trying to find the cameras for years, and we'd really like to see the editor about the script.
Pens and Needles. Wherein I led a really young old lady down the garden path of blogs, but she's walking slowly, so there are only a few great entries so far, but the list is growing, and she's a really great artist, too. And her cats like you.
There are other blogs, and I have other friends, but I really should be working on one of those five projects just about now for school... so I bid you adieu.
And by the way, if you haven't watched the Mummy movie series, you're missing out on some great corny action with a hot babe, a hot dude, a couple of really comedic idiots, and some gross mummies wandering about terrorizing things, only with no blood and very little gore. I just got the Mummy Returns from Netflix, and I've only procrastinated a LITTLE bit to watch it. =) But don't believe what they tell you about the Scorpion King. His story is really quite different. Those silly Bembridge Scholars! Always getting stories mixed up and all that rot. Hmmm... I hear a fresh bowl of popcorn calling my name...
Can you believe it? The spellchecker says I got the "hmmm" wrong. Oh, and can I just tell you how sad I think it is (in a silly smirky kind of way) that my entry about strawberries and dockers pants was somehow shorter than my entry about other peoples' entries?! Well, at least there's always the flaming pizza box to keep me amused. Sigh.
Absolute Favorite:
Crazy Aunt Purl. See, this young 30's-ish woman and her three cats are learning to be adults, and she's from the south but she lives in CA, she's hilarious, and she grew an onion in her kitchen by mistake. It's name is Victor. Oh, and sometimes she knits.
The Other Official Blogs:
This Fish Needs a Bicycle. Wherein someone about my age and single deals with her life, and uses a dry sense of humor and a red hot poker to do it. Oh, and she just moved from NY to Texas with her cat, and had a wisdom tooth out. Graphically. But don't worry, folks-- she's a professional!
Dooce. Wherein a really not-quite-right-in-the-head woman lives with her husband and young daughter (who once stared straight at the conservative grandfather over dinner and yelled "SHIGT" at the top of her lungs for no apparent reason, and then went back to dinner while everyone else recovered) and says totally irreverent things about her life choices and life experiences.
Feel-Good Librarian. Wherein a reference desk librarian occasionally shares the experiences that make her world turn, to our great delight. Like when her coworker was asked to locate a photo of God for a young boy, or when she painted her fingernails cool colors to help her through a cancer surgery, and the nurses all practiced little acts of kindness that also made a big difference, thus reminding her how important good customer service can be.
A Librarian's Guide to Etiquette. Wherein a librarian unleashes his pithy observations in short, infrequent, and well-catalogued entries. My favorite to date was the one about getting caught playing Justin Timberlake music on your computer at work. See "Sexy Back, Bringing."
My Friends Have Blogs Too:
The Randomness That is Life. Shana likes NIN, her dog, and cooking. In that order. She's my costar in a really freaky sitcom comedy wherein they tape our lives, and then broadcast little bits of them so other people can laugh at the insanity. We've been trying to find the cameras for years, and we'd really like to see the editor about the script.
Pens and Needles. Wherein I led a really young old lady down the garden path of blogs, but she's walking slowly, so there are only a few great entries so far, but the list is growing, and she's a really great artist, too. And her cats like you.
There are other blogs, and I have other friends, but I really should be working on one of those five projects just about now for school... so I bid you adieu.
And by the way, if you haven't watched the Mummy movie series, you're missing out on some great corny action with a hot babe, a hot dude, a couple of really comedic idiots, and some gross mummies wandering about terrorizing things, only with no blood and very little gore. I just got the Mummy Returns from Netflix, and I've only procrastinated a LITTLE bit to watch it. =) But don't believe what they tell you about the Scorpion King. His story is really quite different. Those silly Bembridge Scholars! Always getting stories mixed up and all that rot. Hmmm... I hear a fresh bowl of popcorn calling my name...
Can you believe it? The spellchecker says I got the "hmmm" wrong. Oh, and can I just tell you how sad I think it is (in a silly smirky kind of way) that my entry about strawberries and dockers pants was somehow shorter than my entry about other peoples' entries?! Well, at least there's always the flaming pizza box to keep me amused. Sigh.
Wednesday, March 28
Tripping
Yeah. So. Ever have one of those weeks where you realize that if you could just get out of your own way, things would be great? One of those weeks where your plans and outlook are changing so fast and so often than you end up with mild case of roller-coaster stomach? One of those weeks were all those puzzle pieces that have been driving you MAD for the last month because there just wasn't a place for them-- suddenly fit perfectly, and the puzzle is complete, and you really aren't sure how that happened, but okay? Yeah, me too.
I'm in an interesting point of my life. The end of my schooling is in sight. I just might get there in one piece, and with a few quality references, too. The ants are (for the moment) GONE from my home, and even my little Jack Sprouts are looking healthy again. I have two great internship opportunities on the horizon, both of which I'll be able to take advantage of, and I think I've managed to maintain a positive relationship with each of my future supervisors, even though every time I communicate with them, something changes and I get to trip over my own feet as I back up a step. I'm nearly caught up on school work for the semester, and the end of that-- too-- is in sight.
On top of that, I went to the bookstore yesterday and browsed their "bargain" section, and found a couple of things that I've been wanting, and will really find useful in the future... at really REALLY good prices. I got a phone call from my work-family last night, too, and they still absolutely love me. (I'm super glad of that, because I love working with them, and my schedule of availability just got complicated.) I have a great hike planned with friends this coming weekend. I had a delightful little bonfire last night. My official library-student blog is about to begin, and they liked my first couple of possible blog entries. And... my cat is sleeping peacefully in another room so I can type this without interference. It's a beautiful world.
Oh-- and I'm back to thinking I'll be a Children's Public Librarian... and work on my tapestry quilts (possibly as bags/vests, too) on the side to supplement that... and who knows, maybe someone will pay me to blog for them at that point, too. I'd love that. Blogging Rocks. It's all about the journey, my friends. It's also all about remembering to breathe and not getting too stressed until you know what direction you're actually headed. Then you can sit back a bit and enjoy the trip. Just don't forget to watch the road if you're the one driving.
And by the way, if you like corny movies and comedy-action-romances like I do...
I've added National Treasure to my list. Mazel Tov.
I'm in an interesting point of my life. The end of my schooling is in sight. I just might get there in one piece, and with a few quality references, too. The ants are (for the moment) GONE from my home, and even my little Jack Sprouts are looking healthy again. I have two great internship opportunities on the horizon, both of which I'll be able to take advantage of, and I think I've managed to maintain a positive relationship with each of my future supervisors, even though every time I communicate with them, something changes and I get to trip over my own feet as I back up a step. I'm nearly caught up on school work for the semester, and the end of that-- too-- is in sight.
On top of that, I went to the bookstore yesterday and browsed their "bargain" section, and found a couple of things that I've been wanting, and will really find useful in the future... at really REALLY good prices. I got a phone call from my work-family last night, too, and they still absolutely love me. (I'm super glad of that, because I love working with them, and my schedule of availability just got complicated.) I have a great hike planned with friends this coming weekend. I had a delightful little bonfire last night. My official library-student blog is about to begin, and they liked my first couple of possible blog entries. And... my cat is sleeping peacefully in another room so I can type this without interference. It's a beautiful world.
Oh-- and I'm back to thinking I'll be a Children's Public Librarian... and work on my tapestry quilts (possibly as bags/vests, too) on the side to supplement that... and who knows, maybe someone will pay me to blog for them at that point, too. I'd love that. Blogging Rocks. It's all about the journey, my friends. It's also all about remembering to breathe and not getting too stressed until you know what direction you're actually headed. Then you can sit back a bit and enjoy the trip. Just don't forget to watch the road if you're the one driving.
And by the way, if you like corny movies and comedy-action-romances like I do...
I've added National Treasure to my list. Mazel Tov.
Monday, February 26
NetFlixFax
Taking advantage of the two-week-free-trial opportunity at Net Flix, I recently became a joiner. Now, for 1/3 the cost of cable or less (which I'm banned from watching until I graduate. HURRY HURRY!!!), I can watch as many movies as I want in a month-- two at a time. How about THEM there facts?! (err-- fax, excuse me.) Oh, and they don't sell your personal info as such, but they do collect marketing data on you, and then use it to select ads from their 3-rd party vendors to include in your DVD envelopes. Trixy we are, my Precious. (Did I just say that? Oh, dear. The sky must be falling. Either that, or it's Monday.)
See... I came to the realization that I was watching a movie several nights a week, to give my brain time to rest, drain out all the academic goo, and reset itself. But, see, it gets expensive to keep BUYING DVDs when you get sick of the ones you own... and students just don't have spare change in the form of two or three $10 bills a week... and even though I am one of those odd individuals who LOVES watching the same movie over and over again... I am SICK S-I-C-K SICK of watching the movies in my collection. I mean, really, how many times can you watch "Down Periscope" before you start singing along with the songs and fastforwarding between punchlines? It was sad. S-A-D sad.
And, you know, NetFlix claims they have over 72,000 movies! That's a lot of movies. Granted, I probably don't want to watch a good 2/3 of them... and I might own about 30 of what's left... but that still leaves a lot of ground for me to cover (repeatedly) between now and graduation. I don't know about you, but I just cannot face driving to work (1 hour) working for 10 hours, driving home (1 hour) and then actually DOING anything else that day. Except, maybe, make a bowl of popcorn and pop in a movie. So that's what I do.
And, after much exploration, I have a whole 25 movie titles in my cart... which reminds me that I forgot to sign up for the movie that's been taunting me for months now, and is one of the main reasons that I finally gave in to social joinery and signed up for NetFlix. The Mummy Returns, here I come, baby! OOH-- and maybe they'll have the sequel to The Librarian! (action adventure, along the lines of Indianna Jones) One can only hope. Since I got several good laughs out of some of the titles I stumbled across in my online travels, I thought I'd pass a few of them on to you. These are all true. I swear. Although I may have misspelled "felafle."
The Watermelon
The Kiss of Debt
He Died With a Felafl In His Hand
Osmosis Jones
Smiling Fish and Goat On Fire
(I had no idea there were that many) Strawberry Shortcake Movies.
With Six You Get Eggroll
Totally Blonde
A Woman Her Men And Her Futon
Yes. I may have to rent the one about the Felafel's, just so I can tell you all not to see it.
And just so you know, I only looked through the Action-Drama, Comedy, and Family-Friendly sections so far. There was definitely a lot of overlap, somehow. I actually think I saw X-Men in all three categories, come to think of it. Having selected everything from Danny Kay's Court Jester to Disorganized Crime with Lou Diamond Phillips to Mary Poppins to Jet Li's latest... I think I confused the poor little "let me help you find more good titles" program, too. See, every time you add a movie to your que, a little helpful box appears that shows you a selection of six to eight other movies that you might like, based on your selections so far. After my first five picks, it just kept showing me the same three or four movies over and over, hoping maybe this time it was going to be right.
It wasn't.
Further bulletins as warranted.
See... I came to the realization that I was watching a movie several nights a week, to give my brain time to rest, drain out all the academic goo, and reset itself. But, see, it gets expensive to keep BUYING DVDs when you get sick of the ones you own... and students just don't have spare change in the form of two or three $10 bills a week... and even though I am one of those odd individuals who LOVES watching the same movie over and over again... I am SICK S-I-C-K SICK of watching the movies in my collection. I mean, really, how many times can you watch "Down Periscope" before you start singing along with the songs and fastforwarding between punchlines? It was sad. S-A-D sad.
And, you know, NetFlix claims they have over 72,000 movies! That's a lot of movies. Granted, I probably don't want to watch a good 2/3 of them... and I might own about 30 of what's left... but that still leaves a lot of ground for me to cover (repeatedly) between now and graduation. I don't know about you, but I just cannot face driving to work (1 hour) working for 10 hours, driving home (1 hour) and then actually DOING anything else that day. Except, maybe, make a bowl of popcorn and pop in a movie. So that's what I do.
And, after much exploration, I have a whole 25 movie titles in my cart... which reminds me that I forgot to sign up for the movie that's been taunting me for months now, and is one of the main reasons that I finally gave in to social joinery and signed up for NetFlix. The Mummy Returns, here I come, baby! OOH-- and maybe they'll have the sequel to The Librarian! (action adventure, along the lines of Indianna Jones) One can only hope. Since I got several good laughs out of some of the titles I stumbled across in my online travels, I thought I'd pass a few of them on to you. These are all true. I swear. Although I may have misspelled "felafle."
The Watermelon
The Kiss of Debt
He Died With a Felafl In His Hand
Osmosis Jones
Smiling Fish and Goat On Fire
(I had no idea there were that many) Strawberry Shortcake Movies.
With Six You Get Eggroll
Totally Blonde
A Woman Her Men And Her Futon
Yes. I may have to rent the one about the Felafel's, just so I can tell you all not to see it.
And just so you know, I only looked through the Action-Drama, Comedy, and Family-Friendly sections so far. There was definitely a lot of overlap, somehow. I actually think I saw X-Men in all three categories, come to think of it. Having selected everything from Danny Kay's Court Jester to Disorganized Crime with Lou Diamond Phillips to Mary Poppins to Jet Li's latest... I think I confused the poor little "let me help you find more good titles" program, too. See, every time you add a movie to your que, a little helpful box appears that shows you a selection of six to eight other movies that you might like, based on your selections so far. After my first five picks, it just kept showing me the same three or four movies over and over, hoping maybe this time it was going to be right.
It wasn't.
Further bulletins as warranted.
Thursday, February 22
FYI: It ain't that bad.
FYI, if you read "Just Perfect," and are wondering what exactly inspired my most recent rant... I just spent $225 on a razor phone because it is supposed to be thin and easy to use. Only it is actually a pretty large phone, and you have to buy a thicker battery anyway if you want it to last more than 30 hours, and it has a lot more buttons than my last phone (and if you push the up arrow from the main phone screen, you connect to the internet- oops, I'm not paying for that feature!), and cost me a huge hole in my budget, and about 3 hours of my evening.
Dammit.
And I realized that all of my jeans (except one pair that gape a LOT at the waist, so I don't wear them much) have holes now, and it is just PAINFUL to go jeans shopping because nobody ever finds a pair that actually fit them, and women's jeans usually are pretty cheaply made for the steep price they charge you, and I just don't want to go through all that again, especially after what I just spent on my cell phone.
And I'm not looking forward to my tasteless breakfast tomorrow, and I ran out of vanilla soy milk, too, so it's going to be even gruckyer, and you can only add raisins to cereal for so many months before you get sick of raisins.
And my toes are cold, but I have this big heavy blanket on the bed, and I'm feeling smothered.
And I still can't believe I just spent $225 on a cell phone I don't really like... because it was the best option available.
And I canceled my cable because I'm on a budget and I'm staying away from TV while going to grad school and working and trying to get out and see my friends at least 2x/month. But I miss my shows.
And I didn't even bring up all the fuss-worthy issues I'm having with bras...
And it's past my bedtime.
And I'm just kinda grumpy right now.
And tomorrow is another big day... with no mistakes in it yet.
And I guess if I really don't like the phone, I have another 13 days to return it.
Sigh.
...You know, life ain't all that bad, really...
-I have a cat who adores me, and sometimes lets me sleep past 4:30am.
-I have a whole lot of supportive and intelligent friends that I like to spend time with.
-I have dinner, every night I stop running around long enough to make it.
-I have breakfast, such as it is, every day. (And I really could have gone to the store for soy milk today, too.)
-I have a cell phone, and a good calling plan, so I can call my friends and complain to them about cell phones and jeans and cereal and blankets and bears, oh my.
-I have a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, more than one pair of jeans, lots of books to read, yeast on my popcorn, and sole ownership of the remote control (I still watch DVD's).
Hey-- life is GOOD!
...And I really do want world peace. (quote from Miss Congeniality. Sorry. Couldn't help it.)
Dammit.
And I realized that all of my jeans (except one pair that gape a LOT at the waist, so I don't wear them much) have holes now, and it is just PAINFUL to go jeans shopping because nobody ever finds a pair that actually fit them, and women's jeans usually are pretty cheaply made for the steep price they charge you, and I just don't want to go through all that again, especially after what I just spent on my cell phone.
And I'm not looking forward to my tasteless breakfast tomorrow, and I ran out of vanilla soy milk, too, so it's going to be even gruckyer, and you can only add raisins to cereal for so many months before you get sick of raisins.
And my toes are cold, but I have this big heavy blanket on the bed, and I'm feeling smothered.
And I still can't believe I just spent $225 on a cell phone I don't really like... because it was the best option available.
And I canceled my cable because I'm on a budget and I'm staying away from TV while going to grad school and working and trying to get out and see my friends at least 2x/month. But I miss my shows.
And I didn't even bring up all the fuss-worthy issues I'm having with bras...
And it's past my bedtime.
And I'm just kinda grumpy right now.
And tomorrow is another big day... with no mistakes in it yet.
And I guess if I really don't like the phone, I have another 13 days to return it.
Sigh.
...You know, life ain't all that bad, really...
-I have a cat who adores me, and sometimes lets me sleep past 4:30am.
-I have a whole lot of supportive and intelligent friends that I like to spend time with.
-I have dinner, every night I stop running around long enough to make it.
-I have breakfast, such as it is, every day. (And I really could have gone to the store for soy milk today, too.)
-I have a cell phone, and a good calling plan, so I can call my friends and complain to them about cell phones and jeans and cereal and blankets and bears, oh my.
-I have a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, more than one pair of jeans, lots of books to read, yeast on my popcorn, and sole ownership of the remote control (I still watch DVD's).
Hey-- life is GOOD!
...And I really do want world peace. (quote from Miss Congeniality. Sorry. Couldn't help it.)
Friday, February 9
How To:
How to have a really quality pity party...
Step 1) Don't invite anyone. Not only do you not want witnesses, but you also don't want the possibility of having someone cheer you up. That is NOT the point of a pity party. Unplug your phone, too. There's nothing like being interrupted by Mom in the middle of a really good pout.
Step 2) Pick a good day for your party-- like Mother's Day if you don't have kids, or Earth Day if you live in a big stinky city... I picked early February because I'm single, not currently dating anyone, and those damn pink-and-red displays are EVERY-FUGGING-WHERE!!
Step 3) Stop at the store on your way home from work on the day of the party. If you've had a really shittastrophic day at work, and are coming home later than usual, so much the better. While at the store, assume an expression that says, "If you bother me, I will hurt you, and then I will cry." Try to look as wan as possible while wandering aimlessly through the store. It helps if you forget to grab a cart, too. Grab whatever you think will make you feel better, and don't forget the magazine aisle, the jewelry counter, the fuzzy PJ's, the freezer section, the candy aisles, the wine and beer section, the specialty cheeses, something really garlicky, and the food. Allow yourself to feel even more depressed by the gargantuan bill at the cash register-- you just blew half your rent money, isn't that great!
Step 4) Make sure you haven't gotten enough sleep for several nights in a row. This adds to the drama and anxiety necessary for a truly successful pity party. Personally, I just worked a ten hour day (plus an hour's drive time on each end), I smell and feel like melon-orange baby poo-- there may even be some on my socks, and I haven't slept more than five or six hours a night for about two weeks now, courtesy of my delightful little kitty cat, who thinks 4am is WAY too late for anyone to be in bed-- especially when they could be petting her! (And she has been ignoring my usual methods of saying "no" between the hours of 2-5am... like throwing shoes and yelling unintelligibly.)
Step 5) When you get home, put on a sexy top-- preferably with a pithy saying on it, and then pull your hair back in one of those clips that leaves lots of weird strands sticking up at the back of your head, and straggling oily wisps sticking to your forehead. That way, when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, you can feel both depressed that you can look that good and still not be getting any and, conversely, be depressed at how un-sexy you look even when you 'try.' Remember, you still smell like baby poo anyway. (My sexy tank top says "ALLRIGHTYTHEN" on it, and has lace straps.)
Step 6) Finally, put the most corny romance movie you can get your hands on in your DVD player, and crank up the volume. Maybe, if you're lucky, your cute young neighbors will be so annoyed by this that they will actually knock on your door to ask you to turn down that DRIVEL... and will thus get to see (and smell) you in all your self-pitying glory, and start to giggle uncontrollably. Wouldn't that just make your day complete?!
Any Questions?
STOP BOTHERING ME!! Just stand still for a minute while I cock my fist... and grab a kleenex... sniff....sniff... You ASSOLE! Who invited you, anyway?! (Thanks, I actually feel much better now.)
Step 1) Don't invite anyone. Not only do you not want witnesses, but you also don't want the possibility of having someone cheer you up. That is NOT the point of a pity party. Unplug your phone, too. There's nothing like being interrupted by Mom in the middle of a really good pout.
Step 2) Pick a good day for your party-- like Mother's Day if you don't have kids, or Earth Day if you live in a big stinky city... I picked early February because I'm single, not currently dating anyone, and those damn pink-and-red displays are EVERY-FUGGING-WHERE!!
Step 3) Stop at the store on your way home from work on the day of the party. If you've had a really shittastrophic day at work, and are coming home later than usual, so much the better. While at the store, assume an expression that says, "If you bother me, I will hurt you, and then I will cry." Try to look as wan as possible while wandering aimlessly through the store. It helps if you forget to grab a cart, too. Grab whatever you think will make you feel better, and don't forget the magazine aisle, the jewelry counter, the fuzzy PJ's, the freezer section, the candy aisles, the wine and beer section, the specialty cheeses, something really garlicky, and the food. Allow yourself to feel even more depressed by the gargantuan bill at the cash register-- you just blew half your rent money, isn't that great!
Step 4) Make sure you haven't gotten enough sleep for several nights in a row. This adds to the drama and anxiety necessary for a truly successful pity party. Personally, I just worked a ten hour day (plus an hour's drive time on each end), I smell and feel like melon-orange baby poo-- there may even be some on my socks, and I haven't slept more than five or six hours a night for about two weeks now, courtesy of my delightful little kitty cat, who thinks 4am is WAY too late for anyone to be in bed-- especially when they could be petting her! (And she has been ignoring my usual methods of saying "no" between the hours of 2-5am... like throwing shoes and yelling unintelligibly.)
Step 5) When you get home, put on a sexy top-- preferably with a pithy saying on it, and then pull your hair back in one of those clips that leaves lots of weird strands sticking up at the back of your head, and straggling oily wisps sticking to your forehead. That way, when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, you can feel both depressed that you can look that good and still not be getting any and, conversely, be depressed at how un-sexy you look even when you 'try.' Remember, you still smell like baby poo anyway. (My sexy tank top says "ALLRIGHTYTHEN" on it, and has lace straps.)
Step 6) Finally, put the most corny romance movie you can get your hands on in your DVD player, and crank up the volume. Maybe, if you're lucky, your cute young neighbors will be so annoyed by this that they will actually knock on your door to ask you to turn down that DRIVEL... and will thus get to see (and smell) you in all your self-pitying glory, and start to giggle uncontrollably. Wouldn't that just make your day complete?!
Any Questions?
STOP BOTHERING ME!! Just stand still for a minute while I cock my fist... and grab a kleenex... sniff....sniff... You ASSOLE! Who invited you, anyway?! (Thanks, I actually feel much better now.)
Monday, February 5
Leverage, Says You
I've moved around a lot in my lifetime. Not as much as some folks I know, and mostly in the Northwest, I'll grant you. But... (I'm counting)... I moved five times last year alone... and ten times before that-- not including college. Everyone moves around during college.
This year, I managed a first. In the one month this year has existed, no less. I moved without being aware of it. Yes. I find that impressive. In fact, it was this weird little 21 year old banker at my local branch (who kept saying "Score Team!" whenever he entered info into a field on the computer, and it stayed there) who informed me of the change. Apparently, I've not only changed zip codes, but I'm now in a different town as well. The post office has just been nice about forwarding my mail for the past few months, apparently, because they are nice like that. (And yet, nobody TOLD me that I MOVED! I guess some things are supposed to be self-evident. I haven't even noticed any extra boxes sitting around!) I still don't know what this will mean for my taxes, either. But, I'm a veteran when it comes to moving. I know enough not to panic for the first few months if I can't find my bank statement or my birthday gifts are delivered in person (a few months after the fact) because it's just easier that way. Not a problem.
(As a side note, my cat has now given up her attempts to physically move my fingers from the keyboard with one paw, and down onto HER, where she believes they'll be much more useful, and is now informing me that it's cold in here. She does this by sitting very primly in front of the only heater in the living room. RIGHT IN FRONT OF IT. Shrinking in upon herself. Because she knows this is usually the warmest spot in the house, and it's NOT. So I've given in to peer pressure, and turned on the heat. As soon as she felt the warm spot get warm, she relaxed her posture, and started washing her paws. Success! Those big idiots can be TAUGHT!! I hope to feel the same way about my govergnment someday.)
Apparently, the part of town I was living in got too big, and had to be annexed. Rather than just giving us a new zip code, they decided instead to give us to a smaller neighboring town. How sweet. Is it legal to give my home to someone else without my consent? It is if my taxes are lower as a result, that's for sure.
Taxes. I went to a poetry reading over the weekend. Well, actually, I went to the 18th Annual International African-American Read-In at one of my local libraries. How it can be African-American AND international, I have no idea, but they did it. And it was an excellent event. I'm planning to keep an eye out so I can attend again next year. One of the speakers was a Ms. Alicia Jackson. She read a poem she'd written, and I LOVE IT. I want a copy of it. I just don't know if it's in print yet. All about how the world is... in her mind's eye... with everybody making enough money, no taxes (since we didn't make the mess we're paying for anyway) and children in all countries with food, shelter, safety and love, and reports from the governmgent you can trust, institutions to Educate, and not to Incarcerate, no drunk drivers with multiple warnings who just go out and do it again, and so on... But how that's not real. It's not the world we live in right now. It was a beautiful poem, well-read, and an appropriate reminder that there is always work for us to do, bringing our dreams for ourselves and our children and neighbors and friends into reality.
It's this annual worry about taxes that reminded me. Another civic duty. One so totally disconnected from our actual choices of leadership and interactions with our governing body's adopted laws, and hands-on volunteer efforts to make a difference on this earth, that most of us don't even connect the two in our minds anymore. We pay taxes because we make decisions about where the money goes... through voting. It's not just because we have to pay even more money later if we don't pay it now, and Big Brogther is Watching.
I don't feel the connection anymore. America is too big, too ruled by the politics of corporations and money lenders, the computer programmers and ballot counters too biased, and the whole system too unwieldy for me to believe that I actually make a difference by casting my one little vote. I think we, the people, have more voice by rioting in the streets en mass than we do by voting sometimes. But I still vote. Because just maybe, someday, some of what I see in my mind's eye will exist when I open my eyes, too. And I'd like to be a part of that.
Had an interesting conversation with a good friend about Social Segcurity today. Somehow, of the vast majority of people I've spoken with in my generation... none of us believe we'll see any Social Security payments in our lifetimes. We know the SS taxes we pay this year will go directly to pay the dues owed our grandparents and the older retirees, THIS YEAR. We know that the current average life expectancy of a woman is 97. We know our parents-- the Baby Boomer generation-- will probably see that age. Most of them. And that most of them, who saved for retirement at all, were on the "we'll live about 20 years after we retire" plan. Because back when they were my age, that was the life expectancy... about 82. Even life insurance plans don't go past age 99. There hasn't ever been any point to doing so before.
So how will they live out those last twenty years? They'll use Medicare and Medicaid, and Social Security, and loans and credit cards and second mortgages if they can. There aren't as many workers in the coming generations-- a terrible ratio between the working and the retired that does not bode well for any SS financial reserves or even any direct payments to be left for us gen-Xers, and those in the surrounding generations. (I'm not actually sure what mine is called...) So we all know how important it is to save for our own retirements. And none of us expect to stop working at age 60 or 62 or 65. We'll only be middle aged by then. Heck, my parents took up kayaking at age 60! They aren't old. No way! ... so I know when their retirement money runs out, there had better be an extra room on the ground floor with their name on the door, and a bathroom they can use down the hall. They aren't leaving this world any time soon, and I'm glad of it. (They would be horrified if they knew I plan on this happening. On them moving in with me. They are independent and capable right now. And they have planned for retirement. I think they just still look at it the way they did when they first started saving. And they don't want me to feel obligated to them in their old age. I don't as such... but with love comes responsibility, and it is not a choice they can make for me. So I borrow house plans with mother-in-law suites from the library, and ask about their latest boating trip on the phone.)
We are making more amenities and programs and resources available to our retirees because they have leverage. They are a large and growing group in our population, and they have special needs. "Leverage, says you... I feel a change in the wind, says I." (Quoting a pirate, for all that I don't believe those who fall behind should be left behind. What kind of social morals are those? ...And do we want to risk actually being one of the ones falling behind some day?)
You see, there is a ray of hope in this, if you can call it that. First, we all see it coming, so we have time to prepare. And second, the younger generations-- kids in 4th and 5th grade-- they have actually got a SHORTER life expectancy. The first generation of kids who can expect to live shorter lives than their parents and grandparents did. At that point, when they retire, SS probably won't kick in until they are about 75 or 80 anyway, and by then... most of them will already be dead from cancer or growth hormones or apathy or asthma or aids or diabetes or chronic obesity or chronic depression. Heck, half of the coming generations will probably be BORN with these challenges... and many of them won't be able to work at all ever anyway-- so again, Social Secgurity as it stands would be a moot point.
So what is our government doing to ensure that there is a new and more adequate plan in place to answer the swelling medical needs of our country? To deal with the aftermath of changing everything to cater to the retiring Boomers as we are struggling to do now... and having those changes to the system still in place after those boomers are gone, when the population of America suddenly decreases dramatically... but for the incoming swells of people with dreams, born in other countries, and needing health care and unemployment insurance just like the rest of us humans? How will we care for the ill, the homeless, those unable to hold or work a job, the multitudes of our men and women who are mentally and physically ill from the wars or from toxic work environments? How will we stem the increasing proclivity of our youth to rely on credit cards and bank loans for income and for unexpected expenses like hospitalization and pregnancy?
I don't know. But I keep voting, and closing my eyes to see the world I want to live in, and paying those taxes anyway. I don't want my parents to be homeless one day either, and I'm willing to pay into a government program to keep that from happening. Call it social security if you want.
This year, I managed a first. In the one month this year has existed, no less. I moved without being aware of it. Yes. I find that impressive. In fact, it was this weird little 21 year old banker at my local branch (who kept saying "Score Team!" whenever he entered info into a field on the computer, and it stayed there) who informed me of the change. Apparently, I've not only changed zip codes, but I'm now in a different town as well. The post office has just been nice about forwarding my mail for the past few months, apparently, because they are nice like that. (And yet, nobody TOLD me that I MOVED! I guess some things are supposed to be self-evident. I haven't even noticed any extra boxes sitting around!) I still don't know what this will mean for my taxes, either. But, I'm a veteran when it comes to moving. I know enough not to panic for the first few months if I can't find my bank statement or my birthday gifts are delivered in person (a few months after the fact) because it's just easier that way. Not a problem.
(As a side note, my cat has now given up her attempts to physically move my fingers from the keyboard with one paw, and down onto HER, where she believes they'll be much more useful, and is now informing me that it's cold in here. She does this by sitting very primly in front of the only heater in the living room. RIGHT IN FRONT OF IT. Shrinking in upon herself. Because she knows this is usually the warmest spot in the house, and it's NOT. So I've given in to peer pressure, and turned on the heat. As soon as she felt the warm spot get warm, she relaxed her posture, and started washing her paws. Success! Those big idiots can be TAUGHT!! I hope to feel the same way about my govergnment someday.)
Apparently, the part of town I was living in got too big, and had to be annexed. Rather than just giving us a new zip code, they decided instead to give us to a smaller neighboring town. How sweet. Is it legal to give my home to someone else without my consent? It is if my taxes are lower as a result, that's for sure.
Taxes. I went to a poetry reading over the weekend. Well, actually, I went to the 18th Annual International African-American Read-In at one of my local libraries. How it can be African-American AND international, I have no idea, but they did it. And it was an excellent event. I'm planning to keep an eye out so I can attend again next year. One of the speakers was a Ms. Alicia Jackson. She read a poem she'd written, and I LOVE IT. I want a copy of it. I just don't know if it's in print yet. All about how the world is... in her mind's eye... with everybody making enough money, no taxes (since we didn't make the mess we're paying for anyway) and children in all countries with food, shelter, safety and love, and reports from the governmgent you can trust, institutions to Educate, and not to Incarcerate, no drunk drivers with multiple warnings who just go out and do it again, and so on... But how that's not real. It's not the world we live in right now. It was a beautiful poem, well-read, and an appropriate reminder that there is always work for us to do, bringing our dreams for ourselves and our children and neighbors and friends into reality.
It's this annual worry about taxes that reminded me. Another civic duty. One so totally disconnected from our actual choices of leadership and interactions with our governing body's adopted laws, and hands-on volunteer efforts to make a difference on this earth, that most of us don't even connect the two in our minds anymore. We pay taxes because we make decisions about where the money goes... through voting. It's not just because we have to pay even more money later if we don't pay it now, and Big Brogther is Watching.
I don't feel the connection anymore. America is too big, too ruled by the politics of corporations and money lenders, the computer programmers and ballot counters too biased, and the whole system too unwieldy for me to believe that I actually make a difference by casting my one little vote. I think we, the people, have more voice by rioting in the streets en mass than we do by voting sometimes. But I still vote. Because just maybe, someday, some of what I see in my mind's eye will exist when I open my eyes, too. And I'd like to be a part of that.
Had an interesting conversation with a good friend about Social Segcurity today. Somehow, of the vast majority of people I've spoken with in my generation... none of us believe we'll see any Social Security payments in our lifetimes. We know the SS taxes we pay this year will go directly to pay the dues owed our grandparents and the older retirees, THIS YEAR. We know that the current average life expectancy of a woman is 97. We know our parents-- the Baby Boomer generation-- will probably see that age. Most of them. And that most of them, who saved for retirement at all, were on the "we'll live about 20 years after we retire" plan. Because back when they were my age, that was the life expectancy... about 82. Even life insurance plans don't go past age 99. There hasn't ever been any point to doing so before.
So how will they live out those last twenty years? They'll use Medicare and Medicaid, and Social Security, and loans and credit cards and second mortgages if they can. There aren't as many workers in the coming generations-- a terrible ratio between the working and the retired that does not bode well for any SS financial reserves or even any direct payments to be left for us gen-Xers, and those in the surrounding generations. (I'm not actually sure what mine is called...) So we all know how important it is to save for our own retirements. And none of us expect to stop working at age 60 or 62 or 65. We'll only be middle aged by then. Heck, my parents took up kayaking at age 60! They aren't old. No way! ... so I know when their retirement money runs out, there had better be an extra room on the ground floor with their name on the door, and a bathroom they can use down the hall. They aren't leaving this world any time soon, and I'm glad of it. (They would be horrified if they knew I plan on this happening. On them moving in with me. They are independent and capable right now. And they have planned for retirement. I think they just still look at it the way they did when they first started saving. And they don't want me to feel obligated to them in their old age. I don't as such... but with love comes responsibility, and it is not a choice they can make for me. So I borrow house plans with mother-in-law suites from the library, and ask about their latest boating trip on the phone.)
We are making more amenities and programs and resources available to our retirees because they have leverage. They are a large and growing group in our population, and they have special needs. "Leverage, says you... I feel a change in the wind, says I." (Quoting a pirate, for all that I don't believe those who fall behind should be left behind. What kind of social morals are those? ...And do we want to risk actually being one of the ones falling behind some day?)
You see, there is a ray of hope in this, if you can call it that. First, we all see it coming, so we have time to prepare. And second, the younger generations-- kids in 4th and 5th grade-- they have actually got a SHORTER life expectancy. The first generation of kids who can expect to live shorter lives than their parents and grandparents did. At that point, when they retire, SS probably won't kick in until they are about 75 or 80 anyway, and by then... most of them will already be dead from cancer or growth hormones or apathy or asthma or aids or diabetes or chronic obesity or chronic depression. Heck, half of the coming generations will probably be BORN with these challenges... and many of them won't be able to work at all ever anyway-- so again, Social Secgurity as it stands would be a moot point.
So what is our government doing to ensure that there is a new and more adequate plan in place to answer the swelling medical needs of our country? To deal with the aftermath of changing everything to cater to the retiring Boomers as we are struggling to do now... and having those changes to the system still in place after those boomers are gone, when the population of America suddenly decreases dramatically... but for the incoming swells of people with dreams, born in other countries, and needing health care and unemployment insurance just like the rest of us humans? How will we care for the ill, the homeless, those unable to hold or work a job, the multitudes of our men and women who are mentally and physically ill from the wars or from toxic work environments? How will we stem the increasing proclivity of our youth to rely on credit cards and bank loans for income and for unexpected expenses like hospitalization and pregnancy?
I don't know. But I keep voting, and closing my eyes to see the world I want to live in, and paying those taxes anyway. I don't want my parents to be homeless one day either, and I'm willing to pay into a government program to keep that from happening. Call it social security if you want.
Sunday, January 21
I Should Probably Sign Up
I attended the American Library Association Midwinter Meeting this weekend. It's a huge and rather confused event, with all kinds of great information, ways to get involved in "library world," resources, discussion groups, vendors... and that's not to mention all the official meetings that take place every day!
Going into this, I was fairly certain that I wanted to work toward becoming a Public Librarian, and work in the Reference Department, or in the Children's Library. Leaving the conference, I am fairly certain that I want to be an Academic Library Collection Developer, with subject-specific reference desk duties, and hopefully several other hats as well. Variety is important. And it's hard to know what I want to be when I grow up--- it all seems so very far away at times! I'm fairly certain I'll have it figured out by the time I graduate next winter.
I think the biggest challenge for me has been figuring out what events to attend at the conference. It's not just that there are about fifty-plus events for every two-hour time block... added into that are the other 30+ events that are NOT PRINTED IN THE MEETING GUIDE BOOK! Those are usually the interesting ones, anyway, and they've been published on internal listservs instead of on the general information systems. Add to that the number of events which have been rescheduled or relocated, and you have a lot of frantic librarians with very sore feet! To give you an idea of the size of this-- the smaller of the two annual ALA meetings-- I have taken a look at our map of Seattle. There are events regularly taking place at over five hotels in downtown Seattle. There are at least two other meeting locations beyond this, and it is all centered around the Washington Conference and Trade Center-- which we seem to have more or less taken over for the duration. If you are a librarian, and you've never gone-- you should probably sign up.
So far, I've attended several meetings that I really learned from, spoken individually with many practicing librarians and other individuals in library-world who have aided my understanding and awareness of mass opportunities in library-world, and managed to become active in several groups that I'm not sure I signed up for originally... but I will do as soon as I get home, where I left my ALA membership password. Oops.
Knowing that my experiences are probably being filmed for the sitcom of my life (see previous blogs), I have really enjoyed the insane hilarity that pervades much of the Midwinter Meeting. I've also come to appreciate that a majority of librarians have a really sharp sense of humor. I think the three most common denominators among the librarians I've met and worked with here are
-Sharp Sense of Humor (I know, I mentioned that already)
-Sharply Intelligent (Luckily, most also have people-skills...)
-Distinct Desire to Help People (Not always in that order.)
For these reasons, and many more, I am so relieved to find myself in library-world for the weekend. I think I will be very happy to park my professional career on the library-world escalator once I finish my schooling. These people just make sense to me. Even when I don't understand what the heck they are saying. If you've ever interacted with the military or the government on a long-term project, you know how many acronyms these hard-working people can come up with! You might find yourself talking to a CO about the PT requirements for PJs, and needing that info PDQ, before the next DONSA!
Well, impossible as I'd have said this was a year ago, Librarians Have MORE acronyms than both these organizations, put together! And committees... you like committees? You have an idea-- I guarantee we have a committee for that-- plus committees to oversee implementation, advertising, research, publication, collaboration, confirmation, intimidation, and whatever other -ations you can think of in relation to the said "idea!" Yes. We are organized.
We are hella organized. Dangerously so, you might say.
Personally, I attended a meeting of the ALA ACRL's WSS Research Committee, located in the WCC today. I even know what those mean. I also have a mandate to make sure I'm actually ON the ALA'a ACRL listserv, as I'm now responsible for beginning research on an upcoming project, and I need to double-check that I've signed up for the other group whose meeting I particularly enjoyed attending. It has to do with Collection Development in Academic Libraries-- the acronym escapes me...
I think my favorite memory so far-- the one where I wish I'd taken a picture so I could go back and look for hidden cameras later-- was attending an Academic Library Collection Development Discussion Group (acronyms, anyone?). It turns out that this meeting was called so that we could form focus groups and discuss, summarize, and reiterate to the larger group our thoughts on certain Collection Development questions, which most folks had received a list of prior to attending the meeting. I just showed up. I'm still a student. I'm supposed to be along for the ride.
...somehow, I've never been very good at staying on the sidelines...
I ended up sitting with an intelligent and diverse group of five CD librarians, a book store owner, and another student, working toward his MLS degree (just like I am). Our facilitator gave us our question, and requested that each table assign a facilitator, a recorder, and be prepared to present a re-cap to the larger group in the last half-hour. I signed up for the job of taking notes. As a student, I didn't expect to have much to add to what is traditionally an experienced librarian's Management position, and I had very little experience with the topic.
Surprisingly, NOBODY ELSE wanted to take on facilitating the table discussion, EITHER. Realizing that this reluctance was due to a dislike of presenting on the fly, I offered to read my own notes for the group if someone else would facilitate-- as it made more sense for me to read my writing anyway. Thankfully, at that moment someone accidentally volunteered themselves. Our topic was "The Future of ILL and Collection Development in Academic Libraries."
So... I gave my first Committee presentation yesterday. I talked about the future of ILL in Collection Development. I talked to a room of over fifty experienced librarians. I spoke way too fast. I know this because I kept having to slow down enough to breathe. And everyone at the table reassured me that I'd done a good job as soon as I sat back down. That is not usually a good sign. Self-criticism aside, it was a really rewarding experience to be an active participant. I'm not just saying that, either. I have truly missed public speaking opportunities, and the days when mine was the name called whenever a group's speaker or discussion facilitator failed to show up for a campus event. It's not that I like the spotlight-- it's more a burning desire to be helpful, mixed in with a great appreciation for a well-conducted discussion of intelligent ideas and varied perspectives. "Let's go solve something!" seems to be the gist of my mindset at these times.
You'd never know I was once so painfully shy that I refused to go to kindergarten without my mom. You'd never know I spend my free time these days watching corny movies and working as a nanny. It's good to be reminded that an encouraging hug and the willingness to read a special story aloud are as appreciated in library-world as they are in nanny-land. Maybe my professional success can be personal, too. Who knows, by the time I finally get my MLS, I may be running for President!
...I wonder if Congress responds to a good firm "mommy-voice"... Either way, I should probably sign up for some of these groups I just finished contributing to. Next time I go, I want to know what's going on before I get there. Next time, I want to wear more comfortable shoes. Next time, I want to be an official member of the group.
Going into this, I was fairly certain that I wanted to work toward becoming a Public Librarian, and work in the Reference Department, or in the Children's Library. Leaving the conference, I am fairly certain that I want to be an Academic Library Collection Developer, with subject-specific reference desk duties, and hopefully several other hats as well. Variety is important. And it's hard to know what I want to be when I grow up--- it all seems so very far away at times! I'm fairly certain I'll have it figured out by the time I graduate next winter.
I think the biggest challenge for me has been figuring out what events to attend at the conference. It's not just that there are about fifty-plus events for every two-hour time block... added into that are the other 30+ events that are NOT PRINTED IN THE MEETING GUIDE BOOK! Those are usually the interesting ones, anyway, and they've been published on internal listservs instead of on the general information systems. Add to that the number of events which have been rescheduled or relocated, and you have a lot of frantic librarians with very sore feet! To give you an idea of the size of this-- the smaller of the two annual ALA meetings-- I have taken a look at our map of Seattle. There are events regularly taking place at over five hotels in downtown Seattle. There are at least two other meeting locations beyond this, and it is all centered around the Washington Conference and Trade Center-- which we seem to have more or less taken over for the duration. If you are a librarian, and you've never gone-- you should probably sign up.
So far, I've attended several meetings that I really learned from, spoken individually with many practicing librarians and other individuals in library-world who have aided my understanding and awareness of mass opportunities in library-world, and managed to become active in several groups that I'm not sure I signed up for originally... but I will do as soon as I get home, where I left my ALA membership password. Oops.
Knowing that my experiences are probably being filmed for the sitcom of my life (see previous blogs), I have really enjoyed the insane hilarity that pervades much of the Midwinter Meeting. I've also come to appreciate that a majority of librarians have a really sharp sense of humor. I think the three most common denominators among the librarians I've met and worked with here are
-Sharp Sense of Humor (I know, I mentioned that already)
-Sharply Intelligent (Luckily, most also have people-skills...)
-Distinct Desire to Help People (Not always in that order.)
For these reasons, and many more, I am so relieved to find myself in library-world for the weekend. I think I will be very happy to park my professional career on the library-world escalator once I finish my schooling. These people just make sense to me. Even when I don't understand what the heck they are saying. If you've ever interacted with the military or the government on a long-term project, you know how many acronyms these hard-working people can come up with! You might find yourself talking to a CO about the PT requirements for PJs, and needing that info PDQ, before the next DONSA!
Well, impossible as I'd have said this was a year ago, Librarians Have MORE acronyms than both these organizations, put together! And committees... you like committees? You have an idea-- I guarantee we have a committee for that-- plus committees to oversee implementation, advertising, research, publication, collaboration, confirmation, intimidation, and whatever other -ations you can think of in relation to the said "idea!" Yes. We are organized.
We are hella organized. Dangerously so, you might say.
Personally, I attended a meeting of the ALA ACRL's WSS Research Committee, located in the WCC today. I even know what those mean. I also have a mandate to make sure I'm actually ON the ALA'a ACRL listserv, as I'm now responsible for beginning research on an upcoming project, and I need to double-check that I've signed up for the other group whose meeting I particularly enjoyed attending. It has to do with Collection Development in Academic Libraries-- the acronym escapes me...
I think my favorite memory so far-- the one where I wish I'd taken a picture so I could go back and look for hidden cameras later-- was attending an Academic Library Collection Development Discussion Group (acronyms, anyone?). It turns out that this meeting was called so that we could form focus groups and discuss, summarize, and reiterate to the larger group our thoughts on certain Collection Development questions, which most folks had received a list of prior to attending the meeting. I just showed up. I'm still a student. I'm supposed to be along for the ride.
...somehow, I've never been very good at staying on the sidelines...
I ended up sitting with an intelligent and diverse group of five CD librarians, a book store owner, and another student, working toward his MLS degree (just like I am). Our facilitator gave us our question, and requested that each table assign a facilitator, a recorder, and be prepared to present a re-cap to the larger group in the last half-hour. I signed up for the job of taking notes. As a student, I didn't expect to have much to add to what is traditionally an experienced librarian's Management position, and I had very little experience with the topic.
Surprisingly, NOBODY ELSE wanted to take on facilitating the table discussion, EITHER. Realizing that this reluctance was due to a dislike of presenting on the fly, I offered to read my own notes for the group if someone else would facilitate-- as it made more sense for me to read my writing anyway. Thankfully, at that moment someone accidentally volunteered themselves. Our topic was "The Future of ILL and Collection Development in Academic Libraries."
So... I gave my first Committee presentation yesterday. I talked about the future of ILL in Collection Development. I talked to a room of over fifty experienced librarians. I spoke way too fast. I know this because I kept having to slow down enough to breathe. And everyone at the table reassured me that I'd done a good job as soon as I sat back down. That is not usually a good sign. Self-criticism aside, it was a really rewarding experience to be an active participant. I'm not just saying that, either. I have truly missed public speaking opportunities, and the days when mine was the name called whenever a group's speaker or discussion facilitator failed to show up for a campus event. It's not that I like the spotlight-- it's more a burning desire to be helpful, mixed in with a great appreciation for a well-conducted discussion of intelligent ideas and varied perspectives. "Let's go solve something!" seems to be the gist of my mindset at these times.
You'd never know I was once so painfully shy that I refused to go to kindergarten without my mom. You'd never know I spend my free time these days watching corny movies and working as a nanny. It's good to be reminded that an encouraging hug and the willingness to read a special story aloud are as appreciated in library-world as they are in nanny-land. Maybe my professional success can be personal, too. Who knows, by the time I finally get my MLS, I may be running for President!
...I wonder if Congress responds to a good firm "mommy-voice"... Either way, I should probably sign up for some of these groups I just finished contributing to. Next time I go, I want to know what's going on before I get there. Next time, I want to wear more comfortable shoes. Next time, I want to be an official member of the group.
Saturday, January 6
Unaskables
Had a great talk with my best friend today. We stay in closer contact now that we live across the country from each other than we did when we attended the same school... at least in some ways. On the other hand, nothing will ever replace my memories of us going to the grocery store at 10:45pm and frantically picking the bananas out of a giant bin of nerd candy, trying to get a good-sized bag of them before the store closed at 11pm. We actually did this bizarre ritual more than once. And I highly doubt that anyone else would ever stand in the frozen food section of that same grocery store with me after studying for finals all weekend... laughing uproariously at the lima beans.
We ended up talking about how we're getting together at a Library Conference later this year... and what we each needed to know about each other's group of librarian friends, but would not be able to ask. It made me start thinking about all the things you can talk openly about with a good friend... but that would probably make you turn three shades of purple and say "um.. ff-ut--uff...mmm" a lot before you hopelessly affronted the person you tried to discuss it with OUTSIDE your friend group. Especially if you guessed wrong. At least... I think it would be that way. Sometimes you get lucky with strangers, too...
Things like "What is your sexual preference? Does your boss know?"
and
"Do you have an incurable disease?"
and
"Do you practice a Pagan Religion?"
and
"Do you get easily offended? Because you just said the dumbest thing!"
and
"I hate dogs." (Really- nobody would ever speak to you again after THAT!)
and
"Have you ever noticed how funny frozen vegetables can be?"
and
"Do you actually like the fruit-flavored condogms?"
and
"Did you go to school past high school?"
and
"Did you see that movie, Dude, Where's My Car? My favorite scene was..." (I spend a lot of time with intellectuals. We don't admit to watching corny movies with fake-looking aliens.. oh, except the Trekkies... that's different. That's a cult.)
and
"What the heck difference is there between watching dumb fake-looking aliens and watching STAR TREK, anyway??"
and
"So... how many divorces have you had?"
and
"Do you actually LIKE your mom? Because I..."
You get the picture. You probably have more topics to add to the list, too. All those questions that really help you understand and interact the people around you at a much deeper and more respectful level... but that society says you really can't talk about directly with strangers. And, specifically, that people SHOULD BE offended if you DID ask them, because somehow these things are supposed to be shameful. Isn't it sad? They are just part of living and getting through life as we know it... and often these same experiences have greatly enriched our lives and our understandings in surprising ways. For example, I have often noticed that the people who knew what they wanted to do with their lives, and just went out and DID it are often more knowledgeable and easier to learn the job from than the people who had to go out and get a bunch of degrees first.
It's an interesting topic. At least, I think it is. If it wasn't, I wouldn't be writing this. And I am constantly surprised by the people I bump into-- which ones can discuss these questions comfortably and which ones turn and run the other way. I don't have an answer yet, either. So, if you DO... let me know. DO the green ones have more fun? What kind of fun do you think they have? I mean, really. Think about it. They only melt in your mouth, and that's still illegal in several states. How much fun can they be having, and why does the color of their shells matter? In our enlightened age, it's supposed to be what's INSIDE that counts... and how you use it, of course.
We ended up talking about how we're getting together at a Library Conference later this year... and what we each needed to know about each other's group of librarian friends, but would not be able to ask. It made me start thinking about all the things you can talk openly about with a good friend... but that would probably make you turn three shades of purple and say "um.. ff-ut--uff...mmm" a lot before you hopelessly affronted the person you tried to discuss it with OUTSIDE your friend group. Especially if you guessed wrong. At least... I think it would be that way. Sometimes you get lucky with strangers, too...
Things like "What is your sexual preference? Does your boss know?"
and
"Do you have an incurable disease?"
and
"Do you practice a Pagan Religion?"
and
"Do you get easily offended? Because you just said the dumbest thing!"
and
"I hate dogs." (Really- nobody would ever speak to you again after THAT!)
and
"Have you ever noticed how funny frozen vegetables can be?"
and
"Do you actually like the fruit-flavored condogms?"
and
"Did you go to school past high school?"
and
"Did you see that movie, Dude, Where's My Car? My favorite scene was..." (I spend a lot of time with intellectuals. We don't admit to watching corny movies with fake-looking aliens.. oh, except the Trekkies... that's different. That's a cult.)
and
"What the heck difference is there between watching dumb fake-looking aliens and watching STAR TREK, anyway??"
and
"So... how many divorces have you had?"
and
"Do you actually LIKE your mom? Because I..."
You get the picture. You probably have more topics to add to the list, too. All those questions that really help you understand and interact the people around you at a much deeper and more respectful level... but that society says you really can't talk about directly with strangers. And, specifically, that people SHOULD BE offended if you DID ask them, because somehow these things are supposed to be shameful. Isn't it sad? They are just part of living and getting through life as we know it... and often these same experiences have greatly enriched our lives and our understandings in surprising ways. For example, I have often noticed that the people who knew what they wanted to do with their lives, and just went out and DID it are often more knowledgeable and easier to learn the job from than the people who had to go out and get a bunch of degrees first.
It's an interesting topic. At least, I think it is. If it wasn't, I wouldn't be writing this. And I am constantly surprised by the people I bump into-- which ones can discuss these questions comfortably and which ones turn and run the other way. I don't have an answer yet, either. So, if you DO... let me know. DO the green ones have more fun? What kind of fun do you think they have? I mean, really. Think about it. They only melt in your mouth, and that's still illegal in several states. How much fun can they be having, and why does the color of their shells matter? In our enlightened age, it's supposed to be what's INSIDE that counts... and how you use it, of course.
Wednesday, December 27
A Post Saved Is A Post Posted
Wow. I just wrote my usual long thoughtful blog entry. I re-read the entry. I edited it. I tried, for the first time, to add photos. Twice. Then I tried to move the location of the photos within the post. Notice I haven't yet said "I hit save." Yeah.
So... to recap what you will never now read, and I don't have the patience or the time to try and recreate...
Here are the pictures of a great wall mural and some quilted tapestries I've recently created, and wanted to celebrate by including:
I get sentimental and appreciative at this time of year. "Gag me with a spoon!"
(This all made sense in the original, I swear.)
The First Wive's Club is a great movie about three middle-aged women becoming empowered through their friendship at a time when each of their husbands has left them for a younger woman. One woman's mother says to her, "You're 46, you have a husband, you have a daughter. You're very happy. You don't need self-esteem!" It's a funny movie, and I love how the women don't hate men, but end up not feeling dependent on them or controlled by them any more. It's liberating.
Here are some of the women I want to thank for empowering me and sharing their great wisdom, even though they aren't rich movie stars: the Beautifuls, the musician, the school principals, the borrowed mothers of my friends, the muddy librarian, the business woman, the Scorpio, the stampers, and the artist's counselor. Thanks.
(Remember, I'm re-capping.)
One of my all-time favorite movie quotes is from Miss Congeniality. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, I have gel in my hair, and I'm armed-- Don't mess with me."
More another time.
So... to recap what you will never now read, and I don't have the patience or the time to try and recreate...
Here are the pictures of a great wall mural and some quilted tapestries I've recently created, and wanted to celebrate by including:
I get sentimental and appreciative at this time of year. "Gag me with a spoon!"
(This all made sense in the original, I swear.)
The First Wive's Club is a great movie about three middle-aged women becoming empowered through their friendship at a time when each of their husbands has left them for a younger woman. One woman's mother says to her, "You're 46, you have a husband, you have a daughter. You're very happy. You don't need self-esteem!" It's a funny movie, and I love how the women don't hate men, but end up not feeling dependent on them or controlled by them any more. It's liberating.
Here are some of the women I want to thank for empowering me and sharing their great wisdom, even though they aren't rich movie stars: the Beautifuls, the musician, the school principals, the borrowed mothers of my friends, the muddy librarian, the business woman, the Scorpio, the stampers, and the artist's counselor. Thanks.
(Remember, I'm re-capping.)
One of my all-time favorite movie quotes is from Miss Congeniality. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, I have gel in my hair, and I'm armed-- Don't mess with me."
More another time.
Wednesday, December 20
Was it REALLY a good idea?
A friend of mine recently published a blog entry about bad movies we all know and love, but don't admit to owning... (see "Guilty Pleasures") She started me thinking about all the corny movies I love so much... and from there an idea was born.
I'm sharing the idea with you because you will either think it is funny, and then start using the idea... or think it is funny, and then hope to heck I have a really good shrink. I have a suspicion that someone before me had this idea, and maybe even published the results... If you have the website, please let me know! Okay- Here it is:
Wouldn't it be fun to make a whole story using nothing but well-known (or corny) movie quotes?!
Think about it--
"I'll be back!" she insisted.
"An den?" Their leader didn't seem too worried.
"I'm going to kill them all, sir."
He glanced at her, smirking,"Frankly, Scarlet, I don't give a dagm."
"But I know something you don't know." She was getting desperate.
He stood, and turned away. "That's comforting."
She glared at his retreating back, "I'm never going to be good enough for you, am I?"
"Hail to the King, baby."
"Well, THANK YOU, Captain!"
I'll let your imagination take it from there. By the way, I've listed the movies I quoted, in order, below. Just in case you don't want to admit to recognizing any of them.
Terminator
Dude, Where's My Car
Soldier
Gone With The Wind
Scorpion King
Princess Bride
Legally Blonde
Army of Darkness
Down Periscope
I'm sharing the idea with you because you will either think it is funny, and then start using the idea... or think it is funny, and then hope to heck I have a really good shrink. I have a suspicion that someone before me had this idea, and maybe even published the results... If you have the website, please let me know! Okay- Here it is:
Wouldn't it be fun to make a whole story using nothing but well-known (or corny) movie quotes?!
Think about it--
"I'll be back!" she insisted.
"An den?" Their leader didn't seem too worried.
"I'm going to kill them all, sir."
He glanced at her, smirking,"Frankly, Scarlet, I don't give a dagm."
"But I know something you don't know." She was getting desperate.
He stood, and turned away. "That's comforting."
She glared at his retreating back, "I'm never going to be good enough for you, am I?"
"Hail to the King, baby."
"Well, THANK YOU, Captain!"
I'll let your imagination take it from there. By the way, I've listed the movies I quoted, in order, below. Just in case you don't want to admit to recognizing any of them.
Terminator
Dude, Where's My Car
Soldier
Gone With The Wind
Scorpion King
Princess Bride
Legally Blonde
Army of Darkness
Down Periscope
Sunday, December 3
Not Really
Bear with me. I don't always spell things correctly, and I'm not really sure what I'll write in a blog, though my original idea started with this:
"Catta-what? ooh-- I could title each entry with a new word! One could be catta-dict (for how much I like cats), and one could be catta-tonic (about how tired I'll be after this round of finals), and one could be catta-clysmic (for one of the many ridiculous situations my car and I will probably survive in the near future), and one could be catta-racts (for how blind I am without my glasses, and what happened because...), and one could be catta-log (of complaints? of advice? of websites?), and ..."
It was just an idea. Now I'm more interested in making you laugh.
Yes. I like cats-- and some dogs, and even babies, as long as I can give them back after an hour or so. Small drooly soft beings that require us to buy extra equipment for their beds and their car rides and their potty habits and their teeth and their entertainment and their delicate tummies and their need for exercise. I used to be afraid of dogs-- especially big dogs with long tongues. Its really disconcerting to walk up to a friend's house and find that you are the exact height of the dog's tongue (I was five), and he ain't afraid to use it! I was glad to get taller then that. Then I learned that big dogs can rear up on their hind legs, so that they are STILL the exact height of your face-- and if they weigh more than you when they rear up... Its actually more difficult to get away from a dog when it is above you than when it is beside you. I was afraid of dogs because I knew there was no escaping them. Then I was left alone with an 85-pound pitbull mix for a year (I was 25). I was responsible for her physical health, her mental well-being, for cleaning up before and after her, and for keeping her from licking any unsuspecting children. I... was... responsible. I am not really afraid of dogs, their tongues, or their potty habits anymore. There are even specific dogs that I really enjoy. But I like cats.
(Hi, Aussie-- I know you are reading this, and yes- you are one of the dogs I enjoy.) Aussie is very smart. She knows three languages, if you include "Dog." But she's not mine to brag about.
And yes- I'm going to school right now. Graduate School. Its the All-American pastime, and those of us who chose this route do it because we really HOPE it will eventually lead to a job with high enough pay to counteract all the debt we incurred to qualify for the job. I love going to school, but I do often wonder if those people who skip school and earn their qualifications through hands-on experience and basic know-how don't have the smarter career plan. These are the people who will eventually train me to actually do the work my future job requires.
And yes- I own a car. Its been through a lot with me. Five moves. An 85-pound dog. Blinding snow storms that only existed in the five miles around my house, so I still had to go to work. Several different tastes in bumper stickers. A random five-car pile-up that happened on a 25-mph road, squarely in front of a busy emergency room at a major hospital, and everybody refused to ride in the ambulance that the police officer HAD to call anyway. (I was not at fault. Of course, nobody else felt that they were at fault either.) Like I said-- we've been through a lot together.
And so... I leave you.
(I've recently watched the movie, "Much Ado About Nothing," from MGM in 1993. If you've recently watched the movie, this ending may make sense. If not... then sigh no more, and let it go. Passion, love, hate, humor, rumor, sheeps guts, premarital sex, marriage, war, murder, Keanu Reeves, Michael Keaton, and Denzel Washington all in the same movie-- you'd probably find it boring anyway.)
"Catta-what? ooh-- I could title each entry with a new word! One could be catta-dict (for how much I like cats), and one could be catta-tonic (about how tired I'll be after this round of finals), and one could be catta-clysmic (for one of the many ridiculous situations my car and I will probably survive in the near future), and one could be catta-racts (for how blind I am without my glasses, and what happened because...), and one could be catta-log (of complaints? of advice? of websites?), and ..."
It was just an idea. Now I'm more interested in making you laugh.
Yes. I like cats-- and some dogs, and even babies, as long as I can give them back after an hour or so. Small drooly soft beings that require us to buy extra equipment for their beds and their car rides and their potty habits and their teeth and their entertainment and their delicate tummies and their need for exercise. I used to be afraid of dogs-- especially big dogs with long tongues. Its really disconcerting to walk up to a friend's house and find that you are the exact height of the dog's tongue (I was five), and he ain't afraid to use it! I was glad to get taller then that. Then I learned that big dogs can rear up on their hind legs, so that they are STILL the exact height of your face-- and if they weigh more than you when they rear up... Its actually more difficult to get away from a dog when it is above you than when it is beside you. I was afraid of dogs because I knew there was no escaping them. Then I was left alone with an 85-pound pitbull mix for a year (I was 25). I was responsible for her physical health, her mental well-being, for cleaning up before and after her, and for keeping her from licking any unsuspecting children. I... was... responsible. I am not really afraid of dogs, their tongues, or their potty habits anymore. There are even specific dogs that I really enjoy. But I like cats.
(Hi, Aussie-- I know you are reading this, and yes- you are one of the dogs I enjoy.) Aussie is very smart. She knows three languages, if you include "Dog." But she's not mine to brag about.
And yes- I'm going to school right now. Graduate School. Its the All-American pastime, and those of us who chose this route do it because we really HOPE it will eventually lead to a job with high enough pay to counteract all the debt we incurred to qualify for the job. I love going to school, but I do often wonder if those people who skip school and earn their qualifications through hands-on experience and basic know-how don't have the smarter career plan. These are the people who will eventually train me to actually do the work my future job requires.
And yes- I own a car. Its been through a lot with me. Five moves. An 85-pound dog. Blinding snow storms that only existed in the five miles around my house, so I still had to go to work. Several different tastes in bumper stickers. A random five-car pile-up that happened on a 25-mph road, squarely in front of a busy emergency room at a major hospital, and everybody refused to ride in the ambulance that the police officer HAD to call anyway. (I was not at fault. Of course, nobody else felt that they were at fault either.) Like I said-- we've been through a lot together.
And so... I leave you.
(I've recently watched the movie, "Much Ado About Nothing," from MGM in 1993. If you've recently watched the movie, this ending may make sense. If not... then sigh no more, and let it go. Passion, love, hate, humor, rumor, sheeps guts, premarital sex, marriage, war, murder, Keanu Reeves, Michael Keaton, and Denzel Washington all in the same movie-- you'd probably find it boring anyway.)
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