28 June 2007
How to even explain...?
Browsing through the Student Library Journal's archives, I came across an article on Internet filtering in public libraries.
Last year I wrote and published an article on filtering the Web in public libraries in this very journal, so I was interested to read this editorial by Louise Cooke from the UK.
In the first paragraph, I found a reference to my article and another on the same topic that came out in the same issue in which mine was published (Sept 2006). I stopped short, staring at my name in print, slowly realizing that I was witnessing my first citation. Granted, it's not a professional journal, but it is a peer-reviewed library student publication. Meaning, it has some clout.
My first citation. I'm an official professional who has contributed to our discipline's literature.
Last year I wrote and published an article on filtering the Web in public libraries in this very journal, so I was interested to read this editorial by Louise Cooke from the UK.
In the first paragraph, I found a reference to my article and another on the same topic that came out in the same issue in which mine was published (Sept 2006). I stopped short, staring at my name in print, slowly realizing that I was witnessing my first citation. Granted, it's not a professional journal, but it is a peer-reviewed library student publication. Meaning, it has some clout.
My first citation. I'm an official professional who has contributed to our discipline's literature.
27 June 2007
Scary deal
After a shortened work day today, Em picked me up (wearing one of my favorite new shirts--with shiny blue guitars on a black background) and we headed home for a quick stop before heading out for some low-key shopping.
Discussing masseuses (mine is fabulous and Em just visited her), dropped internet connections, strange little boys in love with Emily and her (my) guitar shirt in Starbucks, and twilight zone type occurrences from last night, I grabbed some clothes to change from my dressy-ness to a more relaxed feel.
Halfway through dressing, I tossed the t-shirt onto the bed and turned to fix my Internet connection, which once again (7th time in 3 days) had stopped working. When I returned to my abandoned shirt, I saw a white streak across a section of the back. Thinking it was deodorant stain (sorry, it happens) and that I had forgotten to wash the shirt from the last time I wore it, I leaned in for a closer look.
And I was seized by fear. Because it wasn't deodorant. No, it wasn't a stain. It was a thick web. AND there was a stringy spider hanging by a few legs near it. I froze. I couldn't move. My heart started palpitating so fast I thought I was going to throw up, or keel over.
"Emily. Are you afraid of spiders?"
When she answered, "Yes," I realized that I need a man in my life to do things like kill bugs when I'm frozen by fear.
She came to inspect the offender, pronounced him dead, and then said, "Now the question is, does he look like a recluse?" Meaning a Brown Recluse Spider, the deadliest of deadly spiders. Hanging out in my clothes. In my closet. In my bedroom. Trying to kill me in my sleep.
She dumped him into the toilet, even though he was dead. After looking up "brown recluse spider" in Google, we decided he wasn't one. He was just f-ing scary.
Now I have to check all my clothes before I wear them for Brown Recluses and their scary ass cousins. I hate spiders.
Discussing masseuses (mine is fabulous and Em just visited her), dropped internet connections, strange little boys in love with Emily and her (my) guitar shirt in Starbucks, and twilight zone type occurrences from last night, I grabbed some clothes to change from my dressy-ness to a more relaxed feel.
Halfway through dressing, I tossed the t-shirt onto the bed and turned to fix my Internet connection, which once again (7th time in 3 days) had stopped working. When I returned to my abandoned shirt, I saw a white streak across a section of the back. Thinking it was deodorant stain (sorry, it happens) and that I had forgotten to wash the shirt from the last time I wore it, I leaned in for a closer look.
And I was seized by fear. Because it wasn't deodorant. No, it wasn't a stain. It was a thick web. AND there was a stringy spider hanging by a few legs near it. I froze. I couldn't move. My heart started palpitating so fast I thought I was going to throw up, or keel over.
"Emily. Are you afraid of spiders?"
When she answered, "Yes," I realized that I need a man in my life to do things like kill bugs when I'm frozen by fear.
She came to inspect the offender, pronounced him dead, and then said, "Now the question is, does he look like a recluse?" Meaning a Brown Recluse Spider, the deadliest of deadly spiders. Hanging out in my clothes. In my closet. In my bedroom. Trying to kill me in my sleep.
She dumped him into the toilet, even though he was dead. After looking up "brown recluse spider" in Google, we decided he wasn't one. He was just f-ing scary.
Now I have to check all my clothes before I wear them for Brown Recluses and their scary ass cousins. I hate spiders.
Best comment of yesterday
Calling someone a cheater, liar, or skank is not a nice thing to do. You usually have some remorse or, if not, you're mad at them and trying to throw a low blow.
In conversation yesterday, I heard this description of someone:
"She is a cheating, skanky whore."
Under normal circumstances, that might seem harsh. However, in this particular case, it was the truth. Not so much an insult as an observation.
In conversation yesterday, I heard this description of someone:
"She is a cheating, skanky whore."
Under normal circumstances, that might seem harsh. However, in this particular case, it was the truth. Not so much an insult as an observation.
22 June 2007
Last evening, after the all-day seminar, Beth and I went walking along the canal. It was hot outside, but people were running, walking, biking, and paddle-boating around us. An outdoor cafe was getting ready for a jazz night. People had to pay to sit close, but across the canal, you could sit and listen for free.
One paddle boat slowly passed us, completely laden with people. It was an Amish or Mennonite family (I'd guess Amish, but Brett made me second guess my original assumption), a total of 8 people, mostly little ones. They were facing this way and that - every direction - so that all could fit in there. The parents were the ones at the wheel, as it were, paddling and steering. One tiny little boy, with the hat and everything, was facing backwards, his little red cheeks accenting his sweaty little face and the blonde hair plastered to his head underneath his hat. The oldest child could not have been more than 10.
I know it's probably patronizing to say "oh my gosh, that is precious," but it was on a couple of different levels. First, it was a huge family all together in one very small space at the same time. They weren't arguing or yelling, in fact, they seemed to be getting along rather well. All the kids were behaving themselves in public. They were out for an afternoon jaunt on the canal. And the lifestyles that they (and their clothes) represent always make me smile, a more simple way of living. More simple life. Not simple as in lower or less valid or less fulfilling. In fact, probably the opposite.
As I told Beth and Brett, I tried to capture that moment, the picture of that giant family in a paddle boat, and hold it in my memory.
One paddle boat slowly passed us, completely laden with people. It was an Amish or Mennonite family (I'd guess Amish, but Brett made me second guess my original assumption), a total of 8 people, mostly little ones. They were facing this way and that - every direction - so that all could fit in there. The parents were the ones at the wheel, as it were, paddling and steering. One tiny little boy, with the hat and everything, was facing backwards, his little red cheeks accenting his sweaty little face and the blonde hair plastered to his head underneath his hat. The oldest child could not have been more than 10.
I know it's probably patronizing to say "oh my gosh, that is precious," but it was on a couple of different levels. First, it was a huge family all together in one very small space at the same time. They weren't arguing or yelling, in fact, they seemed to be getting along rather well. All the kids were behaving themselves in public. They were out for an afternoon jaunt on the canal. And the lifestyles that they (and their clothes) represent always make me smile, a more simple way of living. More simple life. Not simple as in lower or less valid or less fulfilling. In fact, probably the opposite.
As I told Beth and Brett, I tried to capture that moment, the picture of that giant family in a paddle boat, and hold it in my memory.
I have not been kidnapped by librarians, (ahem. Beka.) but I have been busy and tired. Thus the lack of posting. Plus, let's face it, when I get super busy, it's usually not with interesting things. Posting, then, becomes problematic.
I had to drive 4 hours total on Wednesday to get my permanent retainer reattached - an appointment which took about 30 minutes. I was the only patient in the office, and only a receptionist and one technician were in the entire building. Oh, except for the cat that lives in Dr.'s office. Yes, a cat lives there. "Doctor loves cats." according to his receptionist.
As I was leaving the following morning at 6:30 to do an airport run and then attend an all-day database training session (which I was actually excited about) in Indy, I planned to get a full night's rest. But alas, my anxiety for oversleeping my alarm kept me up the entire night. I did not sleep at all. At 4:30, I finally looked at my clock and prayed for an hour of sleep. An hour later, I sat straight up, not having slept at all, and proceeded with getting ready. Hit rush hour on the way down. Barely made it to class because, I assumed like an idiot, that I was attending a small gathering in a small town (apparently I'm really used to rural Indiana at this point). I had to find a parking garage and then find the building to find the room in which our session was taking place. Thank God I had allowed a few extra minutes. I made the mistake of not carrying cash with me, which means, you can't pay for parking. The attendant looked at me as if I was the dumbest person alive and asked if I had a check. I did. Accidentally, but I did. So I wasn't imprisoned in the parking garage for the rest of the night.
The day was pretty fun, not because I hadn't slept or because the training was that engaging, but mostly because I met a new friend. Her name is Beth and she and I have led oddly parallel lives, even having some of the same friends, but had never met. Her dad's a prof where I work and went to school. She attended SLIS, leaving a month before I began. We worked the same job at IU. Her early librarian mentors were mine, too. She knows one of my best friends. Everywhere I've gone in the past three or four years, I've heard her name, been asked if I knew her, and generally have felt like I've been following in the footsteps of someone I would rather like if I could catch up with her.
Finally, we met. And she's fabulous. Not only did she keep me awake in the class by chatting with me from her office, but she bought my lunch, offered to infuse me with caffeine, and even invited me to chill at her downtown apartment so I could miss most of rush hour. We decided it'd be awesome to work together, although, in all likelihood, we'd never get any actual work done.
To recap briefly, I've traveled several hundred miles in the past two weeks (maybe more than that), hit rush hour several times, visited with people, met lots of new people, all the while trying to do my job, find time to eat, exercise, and sleep. Goals met with moderate success.
I'll try to do better, and should be able to seeing that my summer vacation starts in a week! Woot!
I had to drive 4 hours total on Wednesday to get my permanent retainer reattached - an appointment which took about 30 minutes. I was the only patient in the office, and only a receptionist and one technician were in the entire building. Oh, except for the cat that lives in Dr.'s office. Yes, a cat lives there. "Doctor loves cats." according to his receptionist.
As I was leaving the following morning at 6:30 to do an airport run and then attend an all-day database training session (which I was actually excited about) in Indy, I planned to get a full night's rest. But alas, my anxiety for oversleeping my alarm kept me up the entire night. I did not sleep at all. At 4:30, I finally looked at my clock and prayed for an hour of sleep. An hour later, I sat straight up, not having slept at all, and proceeded with getting ready. Hit rush hour on the way down. Barely made it to class because, I assumed like an idiot, that I was attending a small gathering in a small town (apparently I'm really used to rural Indiana at this point). I had to find a parking garage and then find the building to find the room in which our session was taking place. Thank God I had allowed a few extra minutes. I made the mistake of not carrying cash with me, which means, you can't pay for parking. The attendant looked at me as if I was the dumbest person alive and asked if I had a check. I did. Accidentally, but I did. So I wasn't imprisoned in the parking garage for the rest of the night.
The day was pretty fun, not because I hadn't slept or because the training was that engaging, but mostly because I met a new friend. Her name is Beth and she and I have led oddly parallel lives, even having some of the same friends, but had never met. Her dad's a prof where I work and went to school. She attended SLIS, leaving a month before I began. We worked the same job at IU. Her early librarian mentors were mine, too. She knows one of my best friends. Everywhere I've gone in the past three or four years, I've heard her name, been asked if I knew her, and generally have felt like I've been following in the footsteps of someone I would rather like if I could catch up with her.
Finally, we met. And she's fabulous. Not only did she keep me awake in the class by chatting with me from her office, but she bought my lunch, offered to infuse me with caffeine, and even invited me to chill at her downtown apartment so I could miss most of rush hour. We decided it'd be awesome to work together, although, in all likelihood, we'd never get any actual work done.
To recap briefly, I've traveled several hundred miles in the past two weeks (maybe more than that), hit rush hour several times, visited with people, met lots of new people, all the while trying to do my job, find time to eat, exercise, and sleep. Goals met with moderate success.
I'll try to do better, and should be able to seeing that my summer vacation starts in a week! Woot!
10 June 2007
So no one wonders where I've disappeared to, I'm going to be professionally developing myself this week for 5 days at a librarian conference in Michigan. Such an exciting place. (Lies, all lies.)
I'm sure I'll have stories upon my return, but until then, my internet access is going to be sporadic at best.
Have a great week!
I'm sure I'll have stories upon my return, but until then, my internet access is going to be sporadic at best.
Have a great week!
04 June 2007
The Year of the...
Last year, or the year before, I remember deciding to dub every year something in line with the Chinese tradition - The Year of the Dog, Year of the Boar (was that a book title, too?), Year of the Dragon, etc.
I know what this year is.
The Year of Grace.
2007 is my year to learn about grace. Giving and receiving.
I'm reading books about grace, listening to talks on grace, I'm desperately needing others to extend grace to me, and I'm trying to reciprocate that.
One of the books I'm reading said that of all world religions, the thing that sets Christianity apart is grace. Our God is gracious; he gives us undeserved favor and forgiveness. He loves unconditionally. Because of that, because we are his ambassadors to the world, we should exude grace toward everyone.
Grace is significant because it's hard. But every time, every small moment that I am able to give someone else grace, and especially every time (the many times) I need to ask for grace to be shown to me, I see that God is here. He's in the world. He is the love we show.
There's peace in that. And assurance that eventually our hope will be realized.
I know what this year is.
The Year of Grace.
2007 is my year to learn about grace. Giving and receiving.
I'm reading books about grace, listening to talks on grace, I'm desperately needing others to extend grace to me, and I'm trying to reciprocate that.
One of the books I'm reading said that of all world religions, the thing that sets Christianity apart is grace. Our God is gracious; he gives us undeserved favor and forgiveness. He loves unconditionally. Because of that, because we are his ambassadors to the world, we should exude grace toward everyone.
Grace is significant because it's hard. But every time, every small moment that I am able to give someone else grace, and especially every time (the many times) I need to ask for grace to be shown to me, I see that God is here. He's in the world. He is the love we show.
There's peace in that. And assurance that eventually our hope will be realized.
01 June 2007
A great thought
"God does not force his kingdom upon anybody but gladly gives it to all who know they're losers without him and humbly seek his help."
~ Clarence Jordan, Sermon on the Mount
~ Clarence Jordan, Sermon on the Mount
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