stray musings and introspections stumbled upon in the stacks or the recovery period thereafter
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Bite me, please, somebody just Bite me...
Friday, March 20, 2009
vernal equinox
Today is the Vernal Equinox, the first day of spring in the Northern Hemisphere and the New Year in many ancient traditions. It is the time of new growth and new beginnings. Eggs are one symbol of this festival since they represent new life. To celebrate, decorate an altar or small table with a green cloth and place on it spring flowers, Pussy Willows in vases, or sprouting bulbs in pots. Place a bowl of hard-boiled eggs in the center. Cast a circle and call the quarters: east for the spring, now with us; south, for the summer that is to come; west, for the autumn far away; and north for the winter that is ending. Hold up an egg and say, “I dedicate this egg to new beginnings in the coming season.” Meditate for a little while on your hopes for spring, then take that energy into you by cracking and eating the egg. by.....
~Magenta Griffith
Saturday, March 14, 2009
once upon a time
Thursday, March 12, 2009
it's a thought...
the idled librarian type can use the computer and/or print resources to identify and locate people whose homes can be burglarized; some of them might even be robbed if the research reveals that they go around with a lot of cash on hand. Many a clever criminal has used the library for these purposes. Why should we leave all the good things to them? Besides, it is a way to get a bit of revenge against a society that doesn't value either the librarian or her skills--if you don't believe this, take a look at your paycheck to see how you've been robbed.
Most librarians lack up-to-date robbery or thieving skills. Few of them are adept at cracking windows or carrying off home-invasion heists, but knowledge, as we like to say, is only a few keystrokes away. To begin with, you should research prominent folks in your neighborhood. Find out where they live. If they belong to social clubs, dig up schedules--it's a lot better to jimmy a window when only the maid is home--she probably makes about what you do and won't mind you stepping on the curtains if you're polite. Oh, and learn Spanish. Many household slaves are underpaid foreign nationals from Hispanic countries. A few nice words will get them on your side; maybe they will even show you where the Master of the House keeps his coin collection.
Also: know when to use violence. Is it more lucrative to pistol-whip the man of the house, or just threaten? This is another skill that will come in handy when you are managing your own library.
[It is very important that you do not kidnap kids unless you have a place to put them. If you must, leave them in the children's section of the library; they will be indistinguishable from the others dumped there, and will doubtless be happier than at home with the folks.]
Do some hard thinking about murder. It is not something to take lightly. Most thefts are treated like squashed bugs by the police, but if you off some fool, even if he wouldn't give up the leather, they'll put the eye on you but good. You might end up doing life, clerking in the library at the state pen, and they don't have wireless connections, believe me.
My suggestion is that you begin by dipping into the cash box, just to see if you like the feeling. Give a look at gun magazines to see if they've got something that matches your purse. When you see patrons, don't just think of service, think of opportunities. What the heck, if you don't ever become a thief, you can always run a retirement plan.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
little ways to annoy me
- snowing on my car (which is in my carport, after all)
- refusing to let me into your lane even though there is room for you to either speed up OR slow down (i mean how much harm does it really cause you?)
- make a right turn from the left lane or a right turn from the left lane (when both are clearly marked.)
- riding my bumper and when i move forward to allow you space getting back on it (if you're going to ride my ass, at least pull my hair...) Were you not in Driver's Ed the day they discussed the amount of car lengths you were to allow between you and the car in front of you? I might just allow my car to roll backwards...
- running your red light causing me to slam on my brakes in my green light
- honking at me once you've decided i need to turn into traffic (i know how fast my car moves as well as its capabilities, and it is my decision to make how reckless i want to be at any given moment...) or if i don't advance on the green light the millisecond it changes (i once had a friend pulled over and ticketed for just such an action~the officer told him the horn was only to be used for emergencies and that didn't quite qualify.) In fact honking at me at all (except in an afore mentioned emergency when my course of action might kill me or you (or our respective cars) might just annoy me to the point where keeping you from your destination becomes my greatest mission in life (can we say road rage?)
- honking (those quick little beeps to let someone know you're just driving by their house or those long annoying ones to let your roommates know you've just arrived home, or those long annoying ones to tell someone to come out to the car, perhaps after ten minutes or so of repeated honking you might want to go inside to see what's keeping them) next door to my own house especially when i am critically migraining in my living room. And honking your horn repeatedly outside a public library to tell someone inside the library to come out is completely unacceptable (do you get the idea i am not overly fond of horns? I am also no hypocrite, i never use mine {except in emergency situations of course...})
- asking me what i did to my (slinged) arm. I have no idea (my collar became mysteriously fractured {though the doc did suggest it was my multiple personality acting up}), i have a nerve infection, and possibly something else which requires a very expensive MRI.) Not that you would know that but i am wearying of the entire fiasco...)
- and yes it hurts
- telling me to smile, i will smile when i damn feel like it, don't tell me what to do (this is especially annoying when you add "life's not that bad," you have no idea what is going on in my life; maybe it IS that bad.)
- trying to provoke a smile (you also have no idea how stubborn and oppositional i really am, the more you push the less i give.)
- friends asking me how i am (not so much because i am so often terrible but because i feel almost guilty telling you that, yet again, and like i'm trying to elicit sympathy~i really don't love to complain even though i am so very good at it...)
- not looking at me when i am using my finger to point you in the direction of the location you asked me for and heading off in the complete opposite direction when you do look (i once had to tell a woman quite slowly and explicitly to "look in the direction i'm pointing"the fifth time she asked me and then walk over there as she wondered past it.)
- in general, not listening to the answer to your question as i give it to you either by asking the question and then wandering away from the desk (or answering your cell phone before you give me the chance to answer), or interrupting me to ask the question i am in the process of answering, or letting your mind obviously wander even if the answer is very short, or just not listening to me at all, did you really need to know the answer? By about the third repetition becomes incredibly difficult to control my words, voice, and tone.)
- not even asking a question but rather standing in front of the desk smiling at me when i ask you if i can help you (and yes isn't a question in and of itself, i need more information if i am to actually help you~i am not a mind reader.)
- asking another staff member the same question you just asked me simply because you didn't like me (often times you ask a third or fourth staff member because you keep getting the same answer from each one.) And i have to suppress a smile when the second staff member sends you back to me because they don't know the answer or because i am the one in charge.)
- Teens telling me to "just relax" because they are doing what i just asked/told them to do and they are showing no evidence of doing so.
- i can't relax because they are not relaxing me
- and when you ask me why i am so annoyed it is because you are so annoying (but i do love it when you are so totally misbehaving, disruptive and disturbing to other patrons that i finally get to ban you from the library and have the police come ticket you for trespassing during the proscribed period of time.)
- using the phrase "excuse me" just BEFORE you do something extremely rude (as if it really does excuse you.) This former form of manners has just become another irritation.
- constantly disconnect me from the internet, causing me to buy a new router which might not even solve the problem.
- my mom asking me if i am speaking clearly into the telephone as if i were some kind of idiot who doesn't know how to use a telephone (and if i didn't wouldn't it have been my mother's responsibility to teach me long, long ago?) Please, just tell me that you can't hear me or that i am breaking up and i will take the appropriate action. (and while we're on the subject while it doesn't annoy me but quite amuses me when my one and only sister leaves me a message and feels the need to add "your sister" to her greeting of it's me, as if i wouldn't recognize her voice.)
ditch that man and read a book instead
BookBrowse reviewer Kim Kovacs is an avid reader in the Pacific Northwest. All those rainy days give her the opportunity to enjoy a wide variety of books that span many genres.Back in the dark ages when I was dating, I had a friend tell me I had no standards when it came to men – that I'd date anyone. Now, that certainly wasn't true. I wouldn't, for example, date someone with poor hygiene or who professed to be an axe-murderer. I did have to admit, though, that my friend had a point, that I would date, well, pretty much anyone who'd ask me out. On further analysis I decided that this was not, as implied by this so-called "friend," an indication of loose morality, but was in fact an indication of strong character. It meant I didn't judge people too quickly; I got to know them a bit before deciding whether or not a relationship had any chance of working out. A valuable gem might lie just beneath a rough exterior. I was willing to take the chance of finding out.
I'm no longer free to date (I have a feeling my husband would disapprove), so I've had to find something else to feed this need I have to try new things. That "something else" is, of course, the world of books. (Who knows? Perhaps it was my love of constantly exploring different kinds of books that led to my willingness to sample different kinds of men.)
Think about it – there are a lot of similarities between picking a mate and picking a book. Your eye may land on a handsome volume at random, or you may hear about a promising one through a friend whose taste you respect. You pick it up and take it home with you to evaluate further. The relationship might be fast and furious, or it may end up being something you savor, or - even better - a love that you return to again and again over the years. Or it may end up being a complete waste of time. You just never know until you investigate what's between the covers.
Relationships with books actually have some pretty compelling advantages over relationships with men. With books, it's always your choice if the liaison ends prematurely. You don't have to worry about the awkwardness of trying to avoid your discarded book should you bump into it in the grocery store. You can tell it, "It's not you, it's me" or even "You know, it actually IS you" without hurting its feelings. It will also never insist on an exclusive relationship, and no one will think ill of you if you love more than one. You can take one to bed with you the very first night you bring it home without your mother blinking an eye.
I seem to have a misplaced sense of loyalty toward the books I start. I know a number of readers who will stick with a book for fifty or a hundred pages, and if they're not impressed by that time, will unceremoniously discard it, never giving it another thought. I, however, end up feeling that even if I have my reservations, I need to give it a chance; it may improve on further acquaintance. I feel guilty if I don't struggle through to the end. Like most of the men I've dated, though, my initial impressions were correct, and the additional time spent struggling to enjoy the experience was time lost. Perhaps now that I'm older I should start developing higher standards... at least where books are concerned.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
because i am so prone to bandwagon jumping
- I’m a raging insomniac (technically, delayed sleep phase syndrome) and often times, after midnight, very ill-advised ideas seem like very good ideas.
- Although i have never felt a desire for children, if it weren’t for my nephews and niece i might have felt compelled to have them.
- Even though my sister is twelve years younger than I, from her early childhood i always knew she would get married and have children before i did.
- My cats ARE my children and i am as committed to them as i would be to my actual offspring.
Although three cats are definitely enough, lately i have felt an irresistible urge to add a dog to the mix.
Although i have made many a stupid mistake in my lifetime i don’t regret a single one (they have made me who i am today and i am pretty okay with that person.)
Although i would give almost anything to be without these damn migraines i am
very grateful for all they have taught me about myself.I am addicted to popcorn (and cheese—meat is not such a big sacrifice but i could never give up cheese.)
When i was small and went grocery shopping with my father i somehow got the idea that the beer he bought smelled like rice pudding and was so disappointed to discover it tasted absolutely nothing like rice pudding.
My favorite kind of beer is Pyramid Apricot Weizen even though i am not that found of apricots (too many memories of being forced to pick up the mushy rotten ones from our back lawn as a child.)
I always wanted to be an academic librarian and the thought of being a public librarian was at the very bottom of my list (never was a big fan of the public.) Now that i am a public librarian i can’t really imagine being anything else.
I love reading and even though i own probably more books than i could ever read i somehow keep acquiring more (a bitch to move across country—and my list of books to read is even larger than that.)
I remain friends with almost all my exes.
I could not survive without sarcasm.
I am NOT shy, people that know me are more than aware of this; people that don’t rarely believe me when i tell them so.
I see a neurologist at least once a month and she is constantly switching up my meds (I also see a second neurologist every three months for my sleep disorder.)
I am a mass of contradictions.
I am very rational and logical but my passion seems to rule my life (and that little voice in my head is not so much one of morality but rather constantly telling my how irrational my actions are.)
It took me forever to like sci-fi because when i was little my dad used to come home from work, drag me downstairs, switch on star trek, and not allow me to talk to him except during commercials (he wanted to spend time with me~and such quality time it was…)
Now i love Star Trek (original and TNG~Gina, you got me hooked on this...)
I can’t stand squash (any kind—even zucchini). Never have, never will (again, childhood memories which i shan’t get into here.)
I love New Year’s Eve but haven’t celebrated it for years.
When i was younger i used to think most people thought like me, the older i get the more i realize that i am so much more liberal than most of the population.
People who think they know everything are rather annoying to those of us who actually do (see number 14, and i actually think agnosticism is the only way to go.)
When i was a child in Alaska i believed you plugged in you cars overnight to make them go the next day (instead of to keep the engine from freezing—don’t know why i never noticed my parents didn’t plug them in during the summer—perhaps because summers were so short?
funny how
Time slips
not only on seas of good intentions
but on waves of dismotivation (and lack of intentions)
on streams of distraction
on ripples of boredom
on infinite raindrops of emptiness and dissatisfaction
and on mists of ambivalence
Away. (and the water is so murky…)
(and maybe it's not so funny either...)