As my time winds down at work for the year (academic year, that is), I've been extremely busy with major projects and meetings and, most recently, library field trips. Two were scheduled this week - one 14-hour day that was a tour of Northern Indiana academic libraries, and one all-day meeting in Indy. Next week, my boss and I have another all day meeting that relates to the 14-hour day tour.
In addition to that, I spent the entirety of last week working on a project for freshmen that will be implemented in the Fall. I had to learn two new pieces of software that deal with sound and video recording and editing, things I know nothing about. But it was fun to learn new equipment and to see the end products. Yesterday, I found out they'd accidentally reset the computer on which I did all of my work and they lost it all. I had saved a couple of unfinished products elsewhere, so have to rebuild from them. Ultimately frustrating!
Despite all that drama, I've been very blessed recently to get to spend lots of time with people I love. Memorial Day weekend probably couldn't have been better or more relaxing. Movies, food, tons of old and new people, multiple naps a day...it was awesome. It ended with a cookout at Sara's with her duplex-neighbors, who Leslie would love to go on adventures with. They tell the best stories. Last night was movie night with a new friend in Upland, someone who could very well make the rest of my time here bearable.
Game night is tomorrow at Leslie D's, and I can't wait to break out dominoes, perhaps Settlers, and Scattergories. Later this weekend I get to see my family.
See what I mean about good things? My cup overflows.
29 May 2008
20 May 2008
Maybe she was right...
This morning as I was getting ready for work, I found my first white hair.
At work today, a friend said to me, "Wow, you look exhausted."
I realize I do have dark circles under my eyes, and sometimes I can barely muster the effort to keep my eyes open, and I know I'm not glowing or exuding any uber-friendly vibes, but wow. I mean...it's a good thing I embrace brutal honesty.
At work today, a friend said to me, "Wow, you look exhausted."
I realize I do have dark circles under my eyes, and sometimes I can barely muster the effort to keep my eyes open, and I know I'm not glowing or exuding any uber-friendly vibes, but wow. I mean...it's a good thing I embrace brutal honesty.
15 May 2008
Time goes on...
Last weekend was Mother's Day. Not that we've ever been huge celebrants of these non-Big-3 holidays, but this year...I dunno. It was significant for me.
Mom and I are coming off of a great year. Perhaps it's because of the few conflicts that we've had, and addressed, I feel like we're closer than ever. I was very happy to be home spending time with her in the kitchen.
Growing up in the United Methodist Church, I remember on these parent holidays being forced to pass out little gifts to the respective celebrated parent. For instance, one year we gave the dads little fir trees. In the middle of the service, they'd have all the children pass these gifts out. It was always very difficult to determine as a child which adults were actually fathers and which were men without children. Deciphering this was made more difficult by the fact that all the children were passing these gifts out, rather than sitting by their fathers.
Now, flash forward from my childhood to last Sunday, Mother's Day 2008. As is typical when I stay at home, I arrived at church by myself (later than Mom and Dad). As I walked in, I saw small children with baskets of something, obviously for the mothers. One small girl shyly said to me, "Happy Mother's Day" and extended her basket. I smiled and said, "No thanks, I'm good."
Around the next corner, before entering the sanctuary, I met two fathers of friends of mine. In the midst of our brief conversation, another small girl approached me. "Happy Mother's Day," she said, struggling to hold up the heavy-laden basket.
Because my friends were standing there, I knew that I had to have a response. "Oh, honey," I said as smoothly as I could, "I don't need one because I'm not a mother."
The guys laughed and one muttered, "Not yet," under his breath. I shot him a Lana Look of Death.
Thinking she'd understand and walk away, I was surprised to see her stand her ground.
"But my grandmother said," she pointed into the next room, "that all the older ladies, even if they're NOT mothers are supposed to get a cookie."
I gawked.
Older lady. Even though I'm not one to care much about age and the aging process, being labeled as an older lady at twenty-five is quite disturbing. I remember a story by a fifty-something woman I worked with at a public library. She could recount the precise time when she was first called "ma'am". It crushed her. She cried. Her whole perception of herself was shattered. At the time of her story, I thought her reaction a bit much. HOWEVER, after Sunday's little interaction, I'm beginning to grasp the significance of these moments.
Part of my issue is that the comment by this little girl came in the same week that a few of my friends commented on a couple of pictures hanging on my fridge. These photos were snapped during my senior year, only three short years ago. Yet, Danny mentioned that I looked so young.
"What, do I look old now?" I asked him. He withheld a response.
When explaining all this to Scott, he looked at me, shrugged and said, "Well, Lana. You are half-way to fifty." Thank you for that, dear friend!
I guess I was set up for disaster because for about six or seven years, I looked exactly the same. When I went to college, my grandmother changed out my senior picture for the one from my freshman year of high school. We all understood that for all intents and purposes, I had not changed.
Maybe I hit a wall at twenty-five. Maybe it's all downhill from here. Maybe I was just shocked to find out that even though this has been the most fun and exciting year of my life, lack of sleep and time in general are taking a toll on me. Who knows.
Welcome to the Older Lady side of life.
Mom and I are coming off of a great year. Perhaps it's because of the few conflicts that we've had, and addressed, I feel like we're closer than ever. I was very happy to be home spending time with her in the kitchen.
Growing up in the United Methodist Church, I remember on these parent holidays being forced to pass out little gifts to the respective celebrated parent. For instance, one year we gave the dads little fir trees. In the middle of the service, they'd have all the children pass these gifts out. It was always very difficult to determine as a child which adults were actually fathers and which were men without children. Deciphering this was made more difficult by the fact that all the children were passing these gifts out, rather than sitting by their fathers.
Now, flash forward from my childhood to last Sunday, Mother's Day 2008. As is typical when I stay at home, I arrived at church by myself (later than Mom and Dad). As I walked in, I saw small children with baskets of something, obviously for the mothers. One small girl shyly said to me, "Happy Mother's Day" and extended her basket. I smiled and said, "No thanks, I'm good."
Around the next corner, before entering the sanctuary, I met two fathers of friends of mine. In the midst of our brief conversation, another small girl approached me. "Happy Mother's Day," she said, struggling to hold up the heavy-laden basket.
Because my friends were standing there, I knew that I had to have a response. "Oh, honey," I said as smoothly as I could, "I don't need one because I'm not a mother."
The guys laughed and one muttered, "Not yet," under his breath. I shot him a Lana Look of Death.
Thinking she'd understand and walk away, I was surprised to see her stand her ground.
"But my grandmother said," she pointed into the next room, "that all the older ladies, even if they're NOT mothers are supposed to get a cookie."
I gawked.
Older lady. Even though I'm not one to care much about age and the aging process, being labeled as an older lady at twenty-five is quite disturbing. I remember a story by a fifty-something woman I worked with at a public library. She could recount the precise time when she was first called "ma'am". It crushed her. She cried. Her whole perception of herself was shattered. At the time of her story, I thought her reaction a bit much. HOWEVER, after Sunday's little interaction, I'm beginning to grasp the significance of these moments.
Part of my issue is that the comment by this little girl came in the same week that a few of my friends commented on a couple of pictures hanging on my fridge. These photos were snapped during my senior year, only three short years ago. Yet, Danny mentioned that I looked so young.
"What, do I look old now?" I asked him. He withheld a response.
When explaining all this to Scott, he looked at me, shrugged and said, "Well, Lana. You are half-way to fifty." Thank you for that, dear friend!
I guess I was set up for disaster because for about six or seven years, I looked exactly the same. When I went to college, my grandmother changed out my senior picture for the one from my freshman year of high school. We all understood that for all intents and purposes, I had not changed.
Maybe I hit a wall at twenty-five. Maybe it's all downhill from here. Maybe I was just shocked to find out that even though this has been the most fun and exciting year of my life, lack of sleep and time in general are taking a toll on me. Who knows.
Welcome to the Older Lady side of life.
06 May 2008
Taking hold of the reins
In an effort to self-medicate and thus improve my sudden and inexplicably foul mood this evening, I purchased dark chocolate M&Ms, junior mints (in honor of Leslie), and a huge box of Willy Wonka's Runts.
Mixing the dark chocolate with the fruity goodness of the Runts has certainly changed the evening's atmosphere.
Plus, I just found a grape Nerd in my box of Runts.
Brilliant!
Mixing the dark chocolate with the fruity goodness of the Runts has certainly changed the evening's atmosphere.
Plus, I just found a grape Nerd in my box of Runts.
Brilliant!
05 May 2008
"I'm sure that was extremely exciting..."
Upon returning from this weekend's extravaganza in the big city, one of my friends asked what I'd been doing.
"I was at a librarian conference for two days..."
That's when the above comment emerged, followed by laughter from several sources.
I continued talking, "...and then I visited my one of my best friends from college."
While I understand that to the outside world a librarian conference sounds eternally lame, for those of us who love our jobs, who were made for our jobs, who believe this to be, essentially, our calling in life, these conferences equip us to better serve our communities. For most of us, that's our goal. We entered a service profession because we like to help people, because we think enabling people to learn at any stage of life can lead to personal betterment for all of them.
Turns out, this conference wasn't bad. In fact, I found it quite interesting, so much so that because of my level of engagement with the material presented, I was brain-dead by the end of the first 16-hour day of activities. The sessions I attended were immediately applicable to quite a few major projects I have going on at work presently, and thus what I absorbed will enable me to produce better learning aids for our students. That, to me, is exciting.
Not only did I learn, but I had fun (surprise of all surprises). I ran into at least three girls that I attended grad school with, ones I'd shared good (and bad) classes with, who had the same mentor as I had. It was lovely to catch up with them, to learn how they like their first professional jobs--the positives and negatives of any library culture. All of us were very grateful to run into each other, as we were traveling from our various libraries alone and, being new to the profession, didn't know anyone.
One of the girls said to me, "Oh, Lana, right? One of my students cited you in a paper they turned in and when I came across your name I thought...I know her. Lana from IU!"
I've been cited by an undergrad! Truly, my scholarly work is spreading (I say this in jest, people. Don't worry, I don't have an over-grown ego. I realize, it was probably a library school student who cited me from the library school student journal.)
During my trip, I was able to meet up with three very good college friends, too: Jenny, Elaine, and Susan.
Jenny and I caught up on the last few years over some coffee one morning, and Elaine and Sus and I had a phenomenal dinner of cornish hens stuffed with lemon and herbs, steamed broccoli, and wine at Elaine's. We sat around discussing our lives over the past two years, which is how long it's been since I'd seen Susan. Much has changed. We're both newly smitten, and Elaine is getting married in August. It was a strange, but beautiful exchange of grown-up considerations, conversations, and a time of reconnection. We've established at least one, maybe two more times this summer that the three of us can get together. That, in and of itself, is eternally exciting!
As Elaine is one of my best friends, my un-related twin, being with her is akin to slipping into my favorite pj's and curling up in front of a fire with an old, favorite book (perhaps The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle). Being with her is comfortable and right. And despite her allergies and current state of sickness, our 24 hours together was thoroughly enjoyable. She is so hospitable and thoughtful, providing me with snacks for the road home and that lovely meal with Sus.
And because my weekend was so spectacular, I had to add one more thing in, though I knew it would cause me to begin this busy week in a sleep-deprived haze...I drove home from Chicago by way of Indy. Which, many of you know, is not very direct. Indirect, but worth it, I must say.
"I was at a librarian conference for two days..."
That's when the above comment emerged, followed by laughter from several sources.
I continued talking, "...and then I visited my one of my best friends from college."
While I understand that to the outside world a librarian conference sounds eternally lame, for those of us who love our jobs, who were made for our jobs, who believe this to be, essentially, our calling in life, these conferences equip us to better serve our communities. For most of us, that's our goal. We entered a service profession because we like to help people, because we think enabling people to learn at any stage of life can lead to personal betterment for all of them.
Turns out, this conference wasn't bad. In fact, I found it quite interesting, so much so that because of my level of engagement with the material presented, I was brain-dead by the end of the first 16-hour day of activities. The sessions I attended were immediately applicable to quite a few major projects I have going on at work presently, and thus what I absorbed will enable me to produce better learning aids for our students. That, to me, is exciting.
Not only did I learn, but I had fun (surprise of all surprises). I ran into at least three girls that I attended grad school with, ones I'd shared good (and bad) classes with, who had the same mentor as I had. It was lovely to catch up with them, to learn how they like their first professional jobs--the positives and negatives of any library culture. All of us were very grateful to run into each other, as we were traveling from our various libraries alone and, being new to the profession, didn't know anyone.
One of the girls said to me, "Oh, Lana, right? One of my students cited you in a paper they turned in and when I came across your name I thought...I know her. Lana from IU!"
I've been cited by an undergrad! Truly, my scholarly work is spreading (I say this in jest, people. Don't worry, I don't have an over-grown ego. I realize, it was probably a library school student who cited me from the library school student journal.)
During my trip, I was able to meet up with three very good college friends, too: Jenny, Elaine, and Susan.
Jenny and I caught up on the last few years over some coffee one morning, and Elaine and Sus and I had a phenomenal dinner of cornish hens stuffed with lemon and herbs, steamed broccoli, and wine at Elaine's. We sat around discussing our lives over the past two years, which is how long it's been since I'd seen Susan. Much has changed. We're both newly smitten, and Elaine is getting married in August. It was a strange, but beautiful exchange of grown-up considerations, conversations, and a time of reconnection. We've established at least one, maybe two more times this summer that the three of us can get together. That, in and of itself, is eternally exciting!
As Elaine is one of my best friends, my un-related twin, being with her is akin to slipping into my favorite pj's and curling up in front of a fire with an old, favorite book (perhaps The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle). Being with her is comfortable and right. And despite her allergies and current state of sickness, our 24 hours together was thoroughly enjoyable. She is so hospitable and thoughtful, providing me with snacks for the road home and that lovely meal with Sus.
And because my weekend was so spectacular, I had to add one more thing in, though I knew it would cause me to begin this busy week in a sleep-deprived haze...I drove home from Chicago by way of Indy. Which, many of you know, is not very direct. Indirect, but worth it, I must say.
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