I was sitting at my desk yesterday, having a miserably busy day, when someone I haven't seen in a couple of weeks came up to me and said "You look like you've lost a lot of weight!" That's always an ego boost.
It's still unbelievably busy here, though, and we're understaffed. I spend most of the day wanting to either hide under my desk sucking my thumb or start whacking people with books. Thus far, I have managed to avoid both, but I make no promises for the future... I was happy to have class yesterday, because it meant I got to leave work early. I yawned my way through class, managed not to fall asleep, and got home to find a frantic Barry hunting for his missing wallet. It turned out he'd either dropped it or had his pocket picked on the bus (my bet's on the latter). Happily, the wallet did turn up on the bus, minus all the money he had -- he was just happy to have his green card back.
Two articles in Salon intrigued me today: this one made me very angry, and very disturbed. It's about a book written by two men who theorize that men are genetically predisposed to commit rape. The logic is, women of prime childbearing age are usually targetted for rape -- the authors presume that's because the rapists are obeying genetic urges toward reproducing. The authors also claim that women in that age group suffer more than children or elderly women who are raped. Their logic completely escaped me on that point.
My first thought when I started reading the article was "Oh, great -- men can't be held responsible for committing rape, because it's all in their genes!" Yep. Check out page three of the article: "Thornhill and Palmer strongly imply that the rapist is the one breed of criminal who, if sufficiently inflamed by miniskirts and cleavage, can't be held entirely responsible for his crime." The old argument that a women "asked for it," because she was dressed provacitively.
I've been bothered by all the little kids selling things on the subway trains and in the stations. We don't really get many kids going door-to-door in our neighborhood, but the people next door send their little one over every time she's doing one of those fundraisers. I don't really mind giving money to help out the school (although I would be more inclined if I actually had a kid who might be going there) but I don't like feeling obligated. If it's my neighbor's kid, I really feel like a jerk if I don't buy some chocolate or gift wrap or whatever. The parents who take thier kids on the subway give you the stink-eye if you say "No" to their kid -- when the parents are actually watching. My mom never let me and my brother go door-to-door selling things. I was always pretty happy about that -- even when I was a little kid, I never thought it looked like much fun.
And here's a link from Jessamyn: Reading books addles your brain! I'm not entirely sure whether the author meant for this to be fun or not, but I giggled all through it...
I'm not having any fun at all. The sun is shining, it's almost 60 degrees, the birds are singing, the fresh air is intoxicating... and I'm sitting here in the house, writing a paper. The cat is lazily snoozing in a sunbeam on the windowsill, raising her head every now and then to sniff the breeze. I'm getting a headache, trying to figure out proper citation styles for electronic sources. Barry went to play video games at the arcade -- partly, I'm sure, to get away from me snapping and snarling at him every time he tried to talk to me. I'm almost finished. All I have to do is the bibliography, and clean it up a little. By now, I'm hating Friends of the Library groups. I don't care in the least about public library funding. I just want to go outside and play.
Yesterday was very and rainy and raw. We went to a local mall that we haven't been to in a long time, and remembered WHY we hadn't been there in so long -- it's hideously depressing. There are very few stores, mostly nail salons and all-for-a-dollar shops. There is an Old Navy; Barry bought me a nice vintage-looking denim jacket. I hate Old Navy's ads, but I generally like their clothes. I just wish they made women's clothes that actually fit women. I don't think I would have fit into any of their clothes when I was 12, much less now. I get tired of shopping in the men's section.
I want to finish this up so I can work out. I don't own a scale (I did, but I threw it away in a fit of pique a few months ago. Silly me.) so I have no idea how much I weigh at the moment. I do know that the jeans that were too tight to wear three weeks ago are now almost too loose. That's a good sign.
Back to work now, alas...
I hate Fridays. I really do. On Fridays I have to work for 10 1/2 hours. Fridays are the busiest days here, and closing is a pain, because people come in 5 minutes before we lock the doors, wanting to do research. They get really pissy when we tell them they can't.
We've been busier than usual today, which isn't improving my mood. There are still really horrible things happening in the lives of people I care about, and that is making me very unhappy.
But I did get a bit of happy news today -- I closed an old bank account, and found that I had $200 more than I thought. Of course, that could just mean I really need to keep better track of my accounts, but I prefer to look at it as a windfall.
I was sitting on the T this morning, listening to music (Moby) and trying to wake up, when three women sat down across the aisle from me. They were obviously all very good friends, all on their way to different jobs, but riding together. The one in the middle was telling the other two stories about some daffy coworker; all three were laughing until tears came to their eyes, having a fantastic time. And it was only 7 a.m.
It was fun watching them, but it made me a little sad, too. I don't have any friends that I get together with regularly (I had the impression that the three women on the train spend quite a lot of time together). And I have rarely had that kind of female friend -- the best girlfriend who is your friend all your life, who is closer to you than family. I have had a couple of good female friends -- one in high school, one in college, and one during and after college. The one from high school got into drugs, flunked out of school, moved in with a drug dealer, and eventually moved across the country. When we would get together, the hysterical giggling was replaced by long, awkward silences. She tried to hide her lack of interest in my school stuff, and I couldn't relate to her life. We lost touch for a few years, and then she called me out of the blue. I was thrilled, thinking we would be able to rekindle at least some of the friendship -- but after that, I got a sort of email newsletter that she sent to everyone she knew once every six months or so. My emails to her went unanswered. So we've lost touch again.
My old roommate from college is still very dear to me -- but she's in medical chool, and lives in Michigan, so we rarely talk. She came to my wedding in November, and we spent the night before the wedding watching movies and talking at her hotel. When we do talk it's great, but it's so infrequent.
My friend Dana lives right in town, and we used to get together all the time. But then, we were both in college and had way more free time than we have now. Now, the idea of going out drinking until 2 a.m. is just wishful thinking. I have to get up for work early, and I can't just skip it like I could my morning classes. I wish I could -- I miss that freedom sometimes. Not that I skipped classes a lot -- I just liked having the option.
I try to see my friend Lee as often as I can -- we met at Simmons (she sat next to me in class, and the comments she'd whisper during the lectures cracked me up and made me like her instantly). But we're both busy, working different shifts.
And being married throws a weird dynamic into things. Given the choice, I'll usually spend my free time with Barry. Or else we have stuff that needs to be done -- the house is filthy, or we need to go shopping for this or that, and everything else gets put on a back burner.
I miss having a good girlfriend. I've always gotten along strangely with women -- with the above three exceptions, most of my friendships with women have ended horribly. One was sleeping with the guy she kept promising to set me up with (she thought it was funny). One made up a bunch of stories to trash my reputation at school (I got the internship she wanted.) The ones that didn't end badly just didn't really... happen. They never got past the aquaintance stage. I'm beginning to wonder if there isn't something about me that repels people on sight. I don't think I smell awful -- I wash, after all, and Barry doesn't go around with a clothespin on his nose or anything. I always have a breath mint handy. I don't have three eyes or anything. I'm very shy, and that makes getting to know people difficult. I generally operate under the assumption that if I start talking to someone, they won't like me. Self-fulfilling prophecy? Maybe. If it is, I've gotten really good at it.
I've got meetings for most of the day, alas, so I'm too busy to write much. At least it's nice and warm and sunny out today, so I can enjoy walking to the meetings.
Patrick's entry for today is excellent. It made me jealous -- I can't write like that! I always wished I could. The best I can usually do is just noodle around a little. I have a degree in print journalism, which I thoroughly enjoyed getting, but once I graduated I realized I had absolutely no desire to be a reporter. (Newspapers also very rarely hire actual staff anymore -- since so few people actually subscribe to newspapers, they often rely on freelancers. I learned that happy lesson after spending 50 bucks faxing resumes all over greater Boston in search of job. I got one form letter requesting an interview, which turned out to have been sent by mistake. When I called, the woman who answered had no idea what I was talking about. That was a nice shot to the ego...)
Here is the REAL reason I want to be a librarian, heh heh heh...
Seriously, though, when I decided to study journalism, I really had no idea that you could go to school to become a librarian. I don't know where I thought librarians came from -- they just materialized among the books, maybe. I worked for four years in the Emerson College library and loved it; I was very sad when I graduated and had to quit. When I couldn't find a newspaper job (and got tired of hearing "You're more than welcome to freelance for us!") I took a crappy job at a photocopy chain. The crappy job, which I loathed and despised, brought me two very nice things -- my husband, who I met there, and a referral to my job here. I'm not especially interested in business and management, but I do like being surrounded by books all day. When I started working here, I overheard several coworkers talking about the graduate program in Library and Information Science at Simmons College -- it sounded pretty good, and my employer will pay for it, so I figured what the hell, I'll check it out. I'm liking it so far. I get a lot of "You want to be a LIBRARIAN?!? Aren't you a little young for that?" which is just silly. I don't actually know any librarians who fit the spinster, hair-in-a-bun, cat-crazy stereotype. (Okay, I have a cat, and if I had long hair I might consider wearing it in a bun... and I can knit... but I have tattoos! Two of them!) And I like the idea that, once I have my degree, I will be able to move just about anywhere and find some sort of job. I probably won't make much money, but I'm really okay with that.
I'm NOT going to turn into Crazy Cat Journal Lady, talking about nothing but the cute things my cat has done... I'm really not... but see, my cat did something cute this morning...
Well, it's really a very normal thing for a cat to do. She got on my lap and went to sleep this morning. But she has never done that before -- she's about three years old, and we adopted her from a shelter. We think she wasn't treated very nicely by her former owners, and she is not a snuggly lap cat. She likes to be petted, and she loves having her head scritched, but she won't sit on your lap, and she hates to be held. She had gotten to the point where she would stand on your lap for a whole three seconds, and then run off, and that was real progress.
I think she's just trying to sabotage me. I was drinking my coffee and attempting to wake up enough to go shower this morning when she got on my lap, curled up, gazed at me adoringly, and then went to sleep. So when I had to push her off to go get in the shower, I felt like a heartless, cruel monster.
I spent yesterday evening watching TV and eating Chinese takeout (so long, diet...) with Lee. Patrick came over shortly after we'd eaten, and we watched "Twenty-One" while shouting advice (and minor insults) at the contestants. I'm generally a "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire" girl -- I had never watched "Twenty-One," I can't stomach "Greed" (Chuck Woollery makes me itch) and the one with Dick Clark I just don't understand. "Twenty-One" seemed absurdly easy. You can decide how many points each question is worth, you can pretty much stop when you want to (granted, you do risk losing) and you get Second Chances. And a lovely NBC tote if you win! The contestants all seem guaranteed to win something -- except for the poor farm hand guy who never got picked by the computer to be a contestant. he was twitching by the end of the show... And Maury Povitch just isn't as much fun to watch as Regis. Not smarmy enough.
After this, I'm starting to lose my love for the Bruins. I saw the highlights of the slash, and it really was unnecessary...
This is a really great article -- it explains the appeal of Harry Potter. I found myself nodding and saying "Yeah, EXACTLY!" a lot while reading it.
Also, for the rest of you kiddie-book fans, here is a fascinating article about the Newbery Award. I haven't had time to finish reading it yet -- it's the kind of article I really want to concentrate on.
Why, oh why did I volunteer to work today? Holidays at an academic library are like working on the moon. It's quiet and dull and lonely. I would so much rather be sleeping.
We got about 10 inches of snow out of Friday's big storm. I had no trouble getting home, much to my relief. When I got off the bus, there was a small herd of little kids rounding up ammo and choosing sides for a snowball fight. It was terribly cute, even when the snowballs starting thumping the sides of the house. I was tempted to go out and join them, but it was entirely too warm and comfortable on the couch under a blanket with a mug of tea.
I trekked through the snow to Simmons to do research for a paper on Saturday, while Barry went to the mall to play. I had no money, and so would have been way too depressed looking at things I wanted to buy but couldn't. And I needed to go to the library, anyway.
Sunday I grocery shopped and scrubbed the tub and the toilet, because that's the glamorous life I lead. My big brother's coming to visit in a couple of days, so I figured I might need a couple of weeks to deal with the toxic bathroom. Housekeeping's not my strong suit. (You hush, Mom!)
So, I had a dull but somewhat productive week. I'm sitting here at work watching a guy walk out the exit door, then turn around and walk in the entrance, over and over. He's making me a bit dizzy. I have nothing at all interesting to say. Sorry.
My thoughts are entirely too scattered today. I'm worried and unhappy. Some people I love very much are going through a very bad time right now - I don't really want to talk about it here, because I don't want to invade their privacy. But it's making me sad and concerned. I live three and a half hours away from them, and have no car, so I can't be there. I don't like feeling helpless - although if I were there, I'd likely just be underfoot.
We're also about to be pounced on by a very large, mean ice storm. It's supposed to start around lunchtime, and get really bad in the late afternoon. I wouldn't mind, except I have to work until 7 tonight, and I'm worried about getting home. The T buses have only stopped running once in the 3+ years that I've been relying on them, and that was for a major blizzard that dumped more than a foot of snow on us overnight. This storm promises 6-8 inches of snow, with about three inches of ice on top. Yikes. Maybe MIT will close early...ha!
The paper was chock-full of depressing news this morning, so I gave up reading it. Even the comics were dull. I did find this, and I honestly don't know what to think of it. The article makes this guy seem very noble -- he "wanted out," so he climbed a mountain and let himself freeze to death. Noble? How is that noble? I initially thought that maybe he had some terminal disease and wanted to go out with some measure of glory. But he was healthy, had a family -- he'd had some tragedy, and it seems he had some emotional problems. (Hmm, you think??) So it struck me as being less noble than selfish. what do you think?
I like Joanne. She quoted me. How cool is that? She also made me think about how stupid I am when it comes to politics. I've never been one to have much faith in the American political system. I've been making the effort to get out and vote, even though it usually boils down to voting for the lesser of two evils. I've never really been fond of any of the candidates. And to be honest, I've never really understood the whole system. I took an America Politics and Government class in school, but it was taught by a politician, not a professor. We got a lot of lectures on his pet causes, none of which were very interesting. He was also a very low-level politician, and I think he wished his career had gone farther, so he was very bitter. I came away from the class more confused than when I started.
I don't really get the whole primary/caucus system. Why do only certain states have them? It doesn't seem very democratic, really -- those states get fawned over by the candidates, and the rest get token visits? If anyone can explain it to me, I'd appreciate it. My husband's British, and he is constantly amazed and disgusted by how messed up our government is. (He also understands it much better than I do -- British schools are just a whole hell of a lot better than American schools, it seems.) I'll vote again this year, but I'm sure I'll leave the polls feeling pretty much the way I do every year -- that it really doesn't make much difference either way.
Mary Ellen's Cooking Lesson #1 -- if you've just taken a glass baking dish out of a very hot oven, it's a bad idea to put it straight into the sink and run water into it. Bad, bad idea. The resulting dish explosion is kind of neat, but cleaning up the shards of glass afterward isn't much fun. My poor cat thought she had done something to make the loud noise, even though she was nowhere near the sink at the time.
I came across this article in The Boston Globe this morning -- I was online at the time, ironically enough. While I wouldn't characterize myself as an Internet addict, I do love my email. And I do have some friends who I very rarely talk to, but email often. One of them is actually in Boston, so there's really no excuse not to talk to her in person...
Also in the Globe, I found this very funny story. I was horrified at the idea of "Who Wants to Marry a Multimillionaire," so I didn't watch any of it. I'm relieved to know that at least some of the contestants came to their senses during the show, though.
Would you clone your pet? I don't know... as much as I've loved every cat I've ever had, and as much as it hurt when they died, it seems a bit ghoulish to want to clone them. I'm not even going to start on how rotten that would be to do, when there are so many very nice cats and dogs you could adopt.
My neck muscles are inexplicably sore. My leg muscles have been sore all week, but it's a good kind of sore. It's treadmill sore. I'm thinking my neck muscles hurt because of lots of ab crunches last night, although my abdominal muscles aren't sore. I remember now why I've always had such trouble with dieting; I want to see major results in a week. As much as my logical brain might tell me to be reasonable, the irrational majority of my brain wants to see less of me in the mirror. The important thing, I guess, is that I feel pretty good. I have more energy, and I'm not having nearly as much trouble falling asleep. Hopefully, if I keep reminding myself about the good things, I'll actually stick with it this time, instead of going for a few weeks and then quitting.
Whoooo, am I ever in a rotten mood. No particular reason for it, I just woke up this way.
Well, there are little things contributing. I have a headache, and I just discovered that I left my trusty bottle of Advil at home. I was awakened from my happy snoozing at ten minutes to five this morning by the doorbell ringing -- Barry had gotten up very early for work, and, after leaving, he discovered that he'd forgotten his cell phone. After I leaped out of bed and opened the door (having about twelve little heart attacks in the process) I asked why he hadn't just let himself in. He said his key to the deadbolt is in his desk at work. Huh?
The T was grumpy this morning, too -- the Red Line was having problems, so it took me much longer than usual to get here. When I did, I made the mistake of reading some posts to a new librarians listserv I'm on. I'm not a librarian yet, but this listserv is usually very informative and fun. Quite often, students like myself will post questions to the list regarding assignments -- I asked for suggestions on where to find articles on a specific topic once, because I was stumped. Someone responded to the list complaining about how inappropriate it is to ask for help with homework, and saying (rather nastily) that the students who post questions are lazy and want other people to do their work for them. Made me mad, on top of being grumpy. I was happy to read all of the indignant respones to the nasty poster -- librarians are, after all, supposed to enjoy helping people. I haven't been on the listserv for long, but none of the homework help questions I've read have been inappropriate.
Okay. Enough griping... for now, at least. Here's a really cool story about reading to kids. It made me smile, a bit.
Bravo, Patrick! The Anti-VD page is excellent.
Yes, I'm married, and therefore have a guaranteed Valentine. But still, no matter how good your relationship is, it never quite lives up to the TV ads, the billboards, the gushy romance stories... I was sitting on the T yesterday when a group of boisterous high school kids got on. Most of them were carrying huge bunches of carnations, with little notes attached. A few had roses, some had cards, and a couple had gifts. A few had one or two scrawny carnations, and a couple were empty-handed. The ones who had the most V-Day loot were teasing the others, telling them how obviously unpopular they were, since nobody sent them roses or brought them presents. It made me cringe -- I've been out of high school for nearly ten years and that Valentine crap = popularity thing still makes me cringe. Add that to the billboards all over the trains and the stations shoving diamonds and Godiva in your face, and even if your significant other is your own personal Casanova, you're going to feel a little inadequate.
Barry isn't into holidays in general -- particularly Valentine's Day. His take on it is "I don't need a special day to be nice to you!" I like that mindset. No, I don't get showered with rose petals (just as well -- the cat would eat them, and cleaning up rose-scented cat barf just isn't terribly romantic) or diamonds (I'm not a jewelry kind of girl, myself -- what little I have, I forget to wear). But I do get hugged first thing when the alarm goes off in the morning, and I get tucked under a blanket on the couch with a cup of tea when I don't feel well. I get laughter at even my dumbest jokes. I get silly little presents just because Barry thought they might amuse me. I get a lot of good things that don't come with a ribbon around them, and are a whole lot nicer than a scrawny carnation.
I woke up to a Valentine card covered with cartoon dinosaurs this morning. Very cute. I like giggling first thing in the morning. Barry was already at work -- we had a lot of sleet and ice overnight, so he left early.
I've never been overly caught up in Valentine's Day. In high school, I always suffered through that God-awful carnation thing (you know, the fundraiser where the Student Counsel or whoever set up a table so you could order carnations for all your friends.) The popular kids ran around all day dripping flowers, squealing with delight every time another bale of petals was delivered to them. Me? Well... I had a bus driver one year who sent a flower to every girl who rode his bus. I was tempted to send a few to myself, just so I wouldn't look like such a loser.
This is genuinely scary -- a pageant to determine the "perfect couple." Lots of perky, sugar-coated people making goo-goo eyes at each other in order to win a tiara. Very weird. Most disturbing, I think, was the woman who chirped that she loves having ""a husband who loves me no matter what -- even on that bad-hair day." Um, well, I would HOPE that your husband loves you on a "bad hair day!" How about on a bad attitude day? Or a bad financial day? A bad health day? Okay, there's nothing wrong with sugary, gooey, sappy love. But the version of perfection these couples seem to be striving for gave me a toothache. It just doesn't seem real. Nobody is a "perfect couple." Perfect for each other, maybe. Perfect on a particular moment of a particular day, maybe. But the epitome of perfect for every other couple? No way.
Charles Schultz died last night. Now, I know a lot of people found "Peanuts" really dull, and I admit I didn't even read it all that often anymore. But I'm still very sad. It feels like a rare little bit of my childhood is gone -- after all, "Peanuts" has been around longer than I have. Some of the first books I read were collections of "Peanuts" strips. I can remember just looking at the strips and making up little stories for them before I even knew how to read. Christmas and Halloween don't feel complete if I don't watch Snoopy specials. So I'm sad. I got up this morning, got my coffee, and turned on the news, and it was the first thing I heard. I really liked what ABCNEWS.com had to say about it.
I'm working today, and I'm not happy about it. It's only for five hours, and I do have some homework to get done... but it's a beautiful day out (bright sunshine, and cold, but not too cold). Barry and I had a nice day yesterday -- well, most of it anyway. He took me out for Mexican food for Valentine's day, and we spent the morning bumming around Harvard Square. I picked up the new Douglas Coupland novel at my favorite bookstore and bought Barry one of those stress-squeeze toy thingies -- it's shaped like one of the Blue Meanies from "Yellow Submarine." Then Barry got called in to work to fix yet another problem, and I went on to the grocery store by myself. The video store around the corner from us is going out of business, so they were having a big movie sale. After I got home and put the groceries away (and carried the cat around in a grocery bag for a while -- it makes her so very happy. She crawls into the bag and won't come out until I pick the bag up and walk around the apartment a few times. She's a weird little animal...) we went to check it out. We got six movies for $40 -- four that we've seen and two that we haven't. I chose two that I've already seen, but really liked -- The Full Monty and The Blair Witch Project. (The moving camera thing didn't bother me, although I know a few people who got queasy watching it. And the characters didn't annoy me because I went to school with a whole lot of film majors who were just like that). Barry got Private Parts, Rush Hour (we haven't seen it, and it was cheap), The Thomas Crown Affair (ditto), The Replacement Killers, and... um... I forget what the last one was. Something we've seen. Hmm.
We didn't end up watching any of them, though. We watched the NBA All-Star thing instead. I fell asleep during that slam-dunk competition, even though that's the only part I really like.
Well. It's time to unlock the doors here and let people in. Sigh. I'd so much rather be at home...
Sorry, I'm dull today. (Well, maybe I'm dull every day... I don't know, since no one emails me...)
My boss was threatening to cancel her vacation, because we're very busy and a couple of people are out sick. I think we were able to change her mind -- we have been looking forward to her going out of town for three weeks now. It would just be cruel for her to take it away now!
Barry has had far too many crises at work, so he has a stress-induced stomach ailment. I'm working late tonight, and working Sunday, so I hope the little time we get to see each other won't be accompanied by vomiting...
I got my planets the other day, and they're beautiful. I don't want to hide one -- I like both of them. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go here and look for the Infinity Project. (I agree with Patrick: I think the reason we both one is because so few people are aware of the project. So if you enter, your odds of winning are really good. I never, ever win anything.)
Here's a late-breaking link: Marylaine Block is one of my favorite Web people ever, and today she has an interesting column comparing bookstores and libraries, and extolling the virtues of used bookstores. I'm in a class on public libraries at the moment, so I found it useful, but I also thought she brought up some very valid points.
Too busy to do much of an update today. I just spent about 20 minutes trying (in vain) to convince a student that we don't SELL the books to him, he can only borrow them. He left angry -- I'm sure he'll be back at some point, trying to buy books. I thought he wanted the bookstore, but he adamantly informed me that he didn't, and that he had been told he could come to the library and buy any book he wanted.
My boss is still causing stress -- lately she has been forgetting to tell us things, then getting upset with us when we don't know what's going on. She's also taken to asking me about things I couldn't possibly know -- like details of what the evening shift did -- and then acting put out when I tell her I don't know. She'll be away all next week, and hopefully she'll get lots of rest and relaxation.
Since I have nothing else interesting to say, here's some stuff to read:
A Michigan woman is jailed for bring baby animals to her day care
This guy annoyed me beyond belief
Journalists hawking products... I have a degree in journalism... I always thought endorsing products or companies implied bias. Maybe I'm wrong.What do you think?
Oi. The semester is in full, frantic swing here, with lots of new students wandering around looking lost, and returning students looking frantic (already -- I guess this school's reputation for stressing students out is well-deserved. When I was an undergrad at Emerson, I was barely awake during the first week of the semester.) And the new students are so helpless! My mom's personal favorite is the girl who came in and asked for help finding a particular book. She didn't know the title, she didn't know the author, and she didn't really know what it was about. She did, however, know that the cover was blue. "Oh, okay, we keep all of our blue books on the third floor, just past the green books."
Yesterday there was a frantic grad student trying to get ahold of a book that was checked out. He had recalled it, but it hadn't been returned yet, and he needed it for his thesis, which is apparently due next week. (My thought was, if your thesis is due next week, and this book is so damned important, why did you wait until now to try to get it? I'm just saying.) First he wanted to know who had the book -- we can't tell him that. Then he wanted us to go get the book from the person -- sure, we'll go bust into the guy's apartment and take the book back. That's what library people do, you know. Finally, he said "Well, can't you just go out and look for the person who has the book and tell them I need it?" Sure! I'll just go roam the greater Boston area, combing the streets for this guy, just so you can get your book. Ninny. It is an endless sourse of amusement, though -- at the moment I'm sitting here watching people come up to the entrance (clearly marked "Pull" and push on it for several seconds, wondering why it won't open. I'm not kidding.
Work is causing me stress, too -- we're shortstaffed, and while I don't really think that's a problem, my boss does. She doesn't handle worries very well. She gets high-strung and anxious, and ends up nagging us constantly. She's irritable, so any suggestion we make to try to make things easier is met with a tongue-lashing. And she hovers around the circulation desk, fretting -- she thinks she's helping, but she's really just making it a thousand times harder for us to get anything done.
Really, it's not that big a deal. I think we could easily get by even if we don't hire a new person. It's a little busy at times, but I don't mind. I'd rather be busy than scraping around for busywork to do. But it's hard to be around someone who is so high-strung without having some of her stress rub off on you.
Work is taking my mind off my terrible mood, though. It took me 45 minutes to get dressed today, because I couldn't find any clothes that weren't too tight. It's very warm out, so I can't wear a huge floppy sweater. It's my own fault, really -- around the end of November I lost the motivation to work out. The inclination to diet went soon after. I had lost about 16 pounds before that happened, and I have since gained them all back, plus a few more. So I've started working out again, but I can't help being thoroughly depressed about the whole thing. And I'm kicking myself for the two months of not working out, because I know I'd feel a lot better if I had stuck with it.
I try not to let my weight color my self-image too much, but it's hard. I end up feeling completely disgusting and depressed, no matter how much I tell myself that it really isn't important. Lately, even reminding myself that my very skinny husband likes me the way I am doesn't help. So, back to the diet, and back to working out. I really like using the treadmill -- it's in my house, so I don't have to deal with going to the gym, and I can read while I do it. And it does wonders for my insomnia. So why can't I stick with it?
I think my id and Katia's have been secretly conferring... I know mine is continually plotting against me. Or maybe it's just February.
I don't particularly feel like doing anything. Well, anything except sleeping, playing with the cat and reading. I don't think my boss would appreciate that very much...
Hmm. Sorry so short. I'm sleepy, and that's really all I have to say...
Okay, so you already know that weekends are too short. Sometimes they just seem shorter than usual. I feel like I didn't have any kind of break between Friday night and this morning. I think it's primarily because we didn't really do anything fun at all.
We would have done fun things, if it hadn't been for Barry's clueless customers. I've been stewing about this since Saturday morning, so if you've actually talked to me over the weekend, skip to the next paragraph, or endure another bout of griping...
Barry works at a printing/copying place. He's the key account rep. for a very large account, which is good, and he likes it a lot. The problem is, he doesn't have an assistant or any backup, so he's responsible for everything. He has a cell phone and a pager, so that his customers can contact him in an emergency. Unforuantely, for some of his customers, "emergency" means "I took a couple of days off instead of getting my work done, so I need you to come in over the weekend and fix it." So far he's working about 70 hours a week, plus at least one day on the weekend. He has a job review today, so at least he'll be able to tell his boss that something needs to change. Whether it will or not is anyone's guess.
Okay, I'm done whining for now. I'm actually feeling pretty good -- I worked out twice on the treadmill, and added some situps, much to the delight of the cat. Smoke LOVES it when I'm sweaty and nasty. The minute the treadmill stops, she races into the room and starts flinging herself against my legs, purring like mad. When I sit down to start stretching, she plasters herself against me and starts licking me. I can't even stand myself after I've worked out -- she's one weird cat.
What weird things does your pet do?
There's something dreadfully wrong with Mindspring. I can surf the net, I just can't get at my email. Being as I am thoroughly addicted to email, this is a bad thing. *sigh* So, if you've sent me mail, don't think I'm a big jerk for ignoring it. I just can't get to it.
Yesterday was weird and awkward. One of my coworkers just got a new job, and yesterday was his last day. Now, nobody actually liked this guy -- he's very immature and difficult to deal with. So no one was really paying much attention to the fact that he was leaving. He kept trying to attract attention, and not getting it. (Personally, I think everyone was trying very hard not to seem too happy that he was leaving.)
It's very quiet around here today -- Barry's off shopping for a Discman, and I just finished working out for the first time in ages. I'm all achey now, but in a good way. I hate exercising while I'm actually doing it, but about 20 minutes after I stop, I feel great. The problem is I'm terminally lazy, and I hate going to a gym. So I got a treadmill last summer, and for a while I was really good about using it. But, you know, it's winter, and I feel more like hibernating than working out. I really need to get back into it though.
Well, I'd like to include an email link, but until Mindspring is feeling better, it's not worth it. Maybe tomorrow.
We're just going to have to find a new Chinese take-out place.
I'm usually a doormat, as far as bad service goes. If a salesperson is rude to me, I'll accept it, telling myself, "Well, he's had a bad day or something." Bad service in a restaurant? I don't complain. The waitress could spit in my water glass and I wouldn't say a word. Barry, on the other hand, doesn't take any crap. He's not mean, and he's not a "difficult" customer by any means, but if you treat him shabbily, he will let you know.
We've been ordering from one particular Chinese take-out place for a couple of years. We order in maybe twice a month, so the owner of the restaurant was beginning to recognize our voices. They're cheap, the food is decent, and they usually aren't busy, so the deliveries are quick. It's when they ARE busy that we have a problem.
Last night, we both got home late, and were tired and crabby, so we didn't want to cook. Chinese food sounded like heaven, so I called and ordered. the woman told me she was very busy, so it would be around 40 minutes. Now, last time this happened, I called and cancelled the order after an hour and a half. The time before that, when the woman warned us they were busy, it took two hours for the food to arrive. (Barry wasn't home, so I meekly took the food when it was delivered ice-cold, paid the bill, and tipped the driver. Doormat.) Last night, though, I called back after waiting an hour, and was told the food was on its way and would be there in five minutes. 25 minutes later, Barry called. The owner was rude to him, told him the food would get there whenever it got there, and she was busy, so it wasn't her problem. He told her fine, but we weren't paying for it. She said "Okay, okay, whatever," and hung up on him. (She was shouting loudly enough that I could hear her across the room.) Another 20 minutes later, the driver showed up with a very well-chilled bag of food. We tipped him, but told him we weren't paying for the order because it had been almost two hours.
This is where it gets weird. We ate, and Barry went online for about two hours. Then he went to bed, and I got online. We don't have two phone lines, so when we're online, we don't get phone calls. I had been surfing for about half an hour when I got disconnected, and the phone rang. The owner of the Chinese place must have been sitting by the phone all evening trying to call us. I answered and she started yelling at me, telling me that Barry had never said we weren't paying for the food, and she didn't care how long it had taken. Barry got on the phone and she shouted at him for a while, telling him that he should be glad the food was delivered at all. He was nice about it, for a while, then eventually he just hung up on her. (She was yelling about how we shouldn't expect good service because their prices were so low. No, really, that's what she said. Very impressive, along with calling late at night to yell at unhappy customers...)
On a much happier note, I won two little glass planets from The Infinity Project! I heard about it from Patrick, and thought it sounded really cool. So I spent part of my sick day Wednesday looking for the little icon to click on to enter (visit the web page, and that will make sense. Enter, too -- it's really a cool idea.) Patrick actually explained the project better than I can -- basically, Josh Simpson is a glass blower. He makes, among other things, glass planets. Apparently, he likes to hide them -- he goes around his hometown and puts them in peoples' flower pots and such. The Infinity Project is a contest -- you send him an email telling him where you would hide a planet, and why, and twice a week he chooses a winner and sends them two little glass planets, one to keep and one to hide. And I won! I had been planning to try to hide one in or near the house that burned down, but I'm not entirely sure that will be possible. So Patrick and I are discussing having a planet-hiding expedition in Boston.
And I'm still thinking about favorite books from childhood, so email me and tell me which books you loved.
I'm still thinking about the childrens books list from yesterday's entry. Joanne sent me a little list of her favorite books from childhood -- we both loved "The Little Prince," even though the ending is quite dark. (I didn't realize that the little prince commits suicide when I first read it. I don't remember what I made of the ending when I was a kid, but I do remember rereading it when I was much older, and grasping what the ending meant, and being very sad.)
So since yesterday I've been wishing I could get back into the childrens room of the public library in North Aurora, Illinois (that's the library I remember going to first; there have been many others since then, of course) and revisit the books I was so enamoured with.
Joanne and I also both loved Madeleine L'Engle's books. I still have most of them, and reread them every couple of years. My older brother and I fought over the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis, and the Lord of the Rings trilogy (which I also reread about once every two years.
(I'm very leery of the movie they're making of The Lord of the Rings, but that's a new entry altogether.)
For about two years I was obsessed with Anne McCaffrey's Pern novels. I keep meaning to go back and reread them, to see if they still hold the same magic for me that they used to. I remember staying with my grandparents during the summer, and my grandmother taking me to the library so I could get an Anne McCaffrey fix.
Of course I loved everything Judy Blume ever wrote. The idea of censoring her books infuriates me (well, the idea of censoring ANY books makes me see red...) because her books strike such a chord with young readers -- boys and girls alike. There's a reason why she is so beloved, and it's not because her books are dirty.
My fondest memories of my childhood involve my mom reading to me -- we read The Secret Garden aloud, a little every night. (I sometimes wish I was little so we could do it again. I think Barry might object to my mom tucking me in and reading to me every night, now...) and we started off reading Beverly Cleary together, until I started devouring her books on my own.
I still love E. B. White, and Roald Dahl. S. E. Hinton was my idol all through junior high. I remember my fifth-grade teacher reading "Where the Red Fern Grows" aloud to the class, and even the boys cried.
There's just too many books for me to list. I think one of the best things my parents did for me was letting me read whatever I wanted -- or at least try to. They would tell me if they thought a book was "too old" for me, but they wouldn't take it away from me. Definitely not the sort of parents who would bully a school into taking "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" off its library shelves -- or Harry Potter, for that matter. I've just read all three Harry Potter books, and I loved them. They have that quality that makes them destined to be lifelong favorites of the kids who read them -- not only are they entertaining, but you can relate to the character, and you can lose yourself in the story. I don't think I'll ever understand why that is threatening to people, or why parents are convinced it will harm their children.
So. I'm not doing a poll or anything, this is strictly out of my own curiosity -- what books did you love?
I've got the flu. Not too bad at this point, but the flu nonetheless. I felt lousy all day yesterday, but we were too busy for me to go home. So I plowed through all the work I had to do, in hopes that I'd get enough done to take today off. So here I am, in Barry's big recliner, watching daytime TV (Talk Soup, people shouting on Maury, now UFO encounters on Sightings... such quality viewing!) I don't plan on moving today.
This article (found on Jessamyn's rarin' librarian site made me all warm and fuzzy. I remember almost all of these books vividly. From what I remember, I pretty much lived in the children's room at the library when I was a kid (isn't that right, Mom?). I remember the library, and the books, more clearly than I remember our house, or my school, or our neighbors.
What books meant a lot to you when you were a kid? And why?
That is a shameless plea for email, by the way. I got a small flood of nice emails when I started this journal, and now that flood has dried up. I'm curious as to whether anyone is still reading! And I just like email a whole lot.
At about 4 a.m., I woke up from a dream involving an enormous dog (about the size of a horse) that had broken into our apartment and was trying to eat us. Barry and the cat and I were hiding in the bedroom, with furniture pushed in front of the door to keep the dog out. The dog was snarling and growling and scratching at the door. I woke up, thinking "Whew, what a weird dream... wait, I still hear growling!" After a few bewildered moments I realized the "dog" was our furnace making horrible noises in the basement. It's done this before, and was supposed to have been fixed. Oh, well, another reason to stay home. The repairman gives us an 8-hour time frame, which really seems excessive to me.
Now there are psychics on Sightings. Hmm.
I'm going to go make some tea for my germs. Email me!
I don't feel well. Barry's had the flu off and on for about three weeks, and when he first started sniffling and coughing, I followed him around trying to catch the germs, so I could get sick and get it over with. The germs, however, had other plans. They just toyed with me, waiting for the right moment to strike. Waiting for me to be so busy that I can't possibly stay home. Today's the day.
The semester starts today, so we have loads of students coming back with all sorts of problems. Books they checked out that were due in September, that they are being billed for. Books they checked out and lost. Books they checked out and lent to their girl/boyfriends, then they broke up, and the girl/boyfriends have thrown the books away.
And questions. "Do you have a list of all the books I read last year?" (Why would we ever want to make a list like that?!?) "I need a book from Reserve." "What book?" "I don't know." "Which class is it for?" "I don't know." "Do you know the author?" "No... can you get the book for me? I'm in a hurry."
And we're way behind on Reserve processing, because professors are still giving us lists and lists of books to be fetched from the stacks and ordered from vendors. So I have no time to be sick. We'll be shortstaffed after Friday (a really annoying coworker is leaving -- moving cross-country, in fact. Yay!) so I won't be able to be sick for quite a long time.
I don't even have any fun links to give you, since we had a very long and rambling staff meeting all morning. Sorry. I'm going to feed my crabby self some lunch now. You know what would cheer me up? Sending me email.
Well, I've had lunch and I'm a little happier (A Cadbury Creme Egg in the lunchbag helps a whole lot) and I found an interesting link, courtesy of Stee:
If you're undecided on who to vote for, you can take this test to find out which candidate best suits you. I took it, and got somebody I haven't actually heard of -- David McReynolds. Who? Ralph Nader was a close second, then Al Gore, ugh. Hmmm...