A fellow student of mine in grad school graduates today and this past week landed her first professional job...
...as DIRECTOR OF LIBRARY SERVICES in a university.
Say what? That doesn't happen. Your first job out of school is one that pays crap, one in which you slowly learn how to run a single collection or department by working your way up through the corporate ladder.
You don't start at the top of the ladder.
Congrats to her! How very exciting.
05 May 2007
04 May 2007
Join the club
Last night at 9:45 I reached a milestone in my life: I finished Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince. And it was sad, oh my goodness. I cried. I cannot lie. This last book, or the second to last in the series, is very sad. Which goes to show how fond I've grown of the characters: Harry, Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore, Hagrid, Ginny, and others. I love Hogwarts and Hagrid's cottage, and have learned to despise the Dursleys and Malfoys. (a link to a great H.P. character resource)
It has been just three months since I picked up the first book, H.P. and the Sorcerer's Stone. After quickly racing through that one, I realized that I had to finish the series as soon as possible. It was going to take a lot of time, as the books get longer and heavier with each new installment, and I had no desire to turn into a hermit who sat around with her nose buried in a book during every spare minute.
At that point, I remembered the suggestion of my friend Kate that I listen to the books on CD. The dramatic reading was excellent, she told me. When I found out that one of my co-workers had them all on CD, I began borrowing them. Thus, I could spend my lunch hours "reading" about Harry Potter, while preparing, consuming, and cleaning up after my food. I could continue my journey with Harry during my three weekly trips to and from Muncie. To the grocery store (first time I felt lucky that it was in a different city), on the way to friends' houses in Ohio, on my way to meet my parents for dinner, etc.
I was able to nearly finish a ginormous scrapbooking project because I could listen to Harry's stories and get lost in the process of choosing background paper, matting, and cutting and arranging all of my photos and bits of pamphlets that I'd saved from my trip to Ireland. I also made great progress on my quilting project while listening to Harry Potter.
And did I mention the Jim Dale, the reader of the books on CD, is the best dramatist ever? He won an award (can't remember which one) for the 134 different voices he created for H.P. and the Order of the Phoenix. How could a person keep all of those characters straight without Mr. Dale's voices? He brings life to the characters in a way that reading the words on a page could not (not that I'm discouraging reading them, but I'm saying -- he's good. He's very good.).
But now I'm finished. And I'm sad, though very eager for Book 7 (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows) to arrive (July 21st). I'm also excited to share the tremendous story-telling ability that JK Rowling possesses and the convincing world she has created.
From one bibliophile/librarian to her readership - you absolutely must read these books. They are so well-written; the characters are endearing and revolting (as per the author's intentions), and there are so many excellent themes woven throughout each book - within each and within the series as a whole. She deals with issues of racism, adolescence, cliques, self-identity and self-esteem, and decision-making. Giving of oneself for others - therefore, selflessness - is a significant theme beginning in Book 1 and continuing.
These are important for ideas for people to consider, and it would be easy for parents to parallel these issues with things their children deal with in real life, thus helping them learn how to digest and personally apply, even to discern positives and negatives, in their own lives.
Thus, READ, I say. And read good literature, the stuff that fortifies your soul and encourages your imagination. This is one example, but there are many books out there. Read things that challenge you (both your intellect and your perceptions), not just the things that make you feel good.
It has been just three months since I picked up the first book, H.P. and the Sorcerer's Stone. After quickly racing through that one, I realized that I had to finish the series as soon as possible. It was going to take a lot of time, as the books get longer and heavier with each new installment, and I had no desire to turn into a hermit who sat around with her nose buried in a book during every spare minute.
At that point, I remembered the suggestion of my friend Kate that I listen to the books on CD. The dramatic reading was excellent, she told me. When I found out that one of my co-workers had them all on CD, I began borrowing them. Thus, I could spend my lunch hours "reading" about Harry Potter, while preparing, consuming, and cleaning up after my food. I could continue my journey with Harry during my three weekly trips to and from Muncie. To the grocery store (first time I felt lucky that it was in a different city), on the way to friends' houses in Ohio, on my way to meet my parents for dinner, etc.
I was able to nearly finish a ginormous scrapbooking project because I could listen to Harry's stories and get lost in the process of choosing background paper, matting, and cutting and arranging all of my photos and bits of pamphlets that I'd saved from my trip to Ireland. I also made great progress on my quilting project while listening to Harry Potter.
And did I mention the Jim Dale, the reader of the books on CD, is the best dramatist ever? He won an award (can't remember which one) for the 134 different voices he created for H.P. and the Order of the Phoenix. How could a person keep all of those characters straight without Mr. Dale's voices? He brings life to the characters in a way that reading the words on a page could not (not that I'm discouraging reading them, but I'm saying -- he's good. He's very good.).
But now I'm finished. And I'm sad, though very eager for Book 7 (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows) to arrive (July 21st). I'm also excited to share the tremendous story-telling ability that JK Rowling possesses and the convincing world she has created.
From one bibliophile/librarian to her readership - you absolutely must read these books. They are so well-written; the characters are endearing and revolting (as per the author's intentions), and there are so many excellent themes woven throughout each book - within each and within the series as a whole. She deals with issues of racism, adolescence, cliques, self-identity and self-esteem, and decision-making. Giving of oneself for others - therefore, selflessness - is a significant theme beginning in Book 1 and continuing.
These are important for ideas for people to consider, and it would be easy for parents to parallel these issues with things their children deal with in real life, thus helping them learn how to digest and personally apply, even to discern positives and negatives, in their own lives.
Thus, READ, I say. And read good literature, the stuff that fortifies your soul and encourages your imagination. This is one example, but there are many books out there. Read things that challenge you (both your intellect and your perceptions), not just the things that make you feel good.
30 April 2007
Barrier of Evil
To anyone who knew me prior to my semester abroad experience in college, I was quite an intense person. I didn't really have a sense of humor and I didn't talk or smile very often. I may have developed, in my first two years in school, somewhat of a reputation in our extremely small dorm (only 70 or so people) as a person not to be messed with.
When I spent the semester in Ireland, a lot changed for me. I opened up to people and learned how to laugh and smile. I learned to like people and began to embrace things that were out of my control.
But few people back in Indiana had a clue that I'd be different upon my return, and for the freshman who entered our dorm that semester, what they heard of me "put the fear" into them, as one of my friends told me. I don't necessarily know what stories were told, what tall tales the guys spun about me, but there was one freshman who was terrified of me.
I tend to be a bit sarcastic, and sometimes, even still, people can't tell if I'm joking or serious, but this guy, J., he could never tell.
Because of his reactions to me, it became a sort of game for me to see how long it took for me to scare him senseless, or at least to make him walk away or turn and run (which did happen). [Leslie, my experience with J. helped me understand why you tortured me in our younger years...it was fun for you. I see that now.]
Last week I was telling a colleague about J. and his fear of me, combined with a recent story about how unapproachable I can make myself, if I'm in an uncomfortable spot.
My colleague responded with a laugh, saying, "I guess I haven't mastered the Barrier of Evil that you've created around yourself, your aura."
Thus, it finally has a name, the image, the manner in which I conducted myself for so many years. My own bubble--the Barrier of Evil.
When I spent the semester in Ireland, a lot changed for me. I opened up to people and learned how to laugh and smile. I learned to like people and began to embrace things that were out of my control.
But few people back in Indiana had a clue that I'd be different upon my return, and for the freshman who entered our dorm that semester, what they heard of me "put the fear" into them, as one of my friends told me. I don't necessarily know what stories were told, what tall tales the guys spun about me, but there was one freshman who was terrified of me.
I tend to be a bit sarcastic, and sometimes, even still, people can't tell if I'm joking or serious, but this guy, J., he could never tell.
Because of his reactions to me, it became a sort of game for me to see how long it took for me to scare him senseless, or at least to make him walk away or turn and run (which did happen). [Leslie, my experience with J. helped me understand why you tortured me in our younger years...it was fun for you. I see that now.]
Last week I was telling a colleague about J. and his fear of me, combined with a recent story about how unapproachable I can make myself, if I'm in an uncomfortable spot.
My colleague responded with a laugh, saying, "I guess I haven't mastered the Barrier of Evil that you've created around yourself, your aura."
Thus, it finally has a name, the image, the manner in which I conducted myself for so many years. My own bubble--the Barrier of Evil.
25 April 2007
Reason #1,026 I should be single for life, or Reason #554 I should have stopped talking to him months ago
"Remember that one time we were friends...What happened?"
"I'm just not good at being friends with girls I've been involved with..."
And just like that, I lost a friend.
It shouldn't be that easy.
"I'm just not good at being friends with girls I've been involved with..."
And just like that, I lost a friend.
It shouldn't be that easy.
21 April 2007
It all started last Sunday
This week produced a sort of stress that I couldn't have predicted in a million years. I knew that I had to take a written test at the license bureau in order to switch over from an AZ license, so I spent the late night hours on Saturday and Monday reading the manual online. I had designated Tuesday as the day for testing and switching licenses, as well as renewing my plates.
Following a rather productive day at work, I drove to the closest BMV branch, noting that the IN.gov web site said it had an average of a 10-minute wait. But the place was packed as Tuesday is the only day they remain open 'til 7pm - everyone who had business to do post-working hours was there. I saw one of the maintenance men who's helped put my office in order this semester. He'd been waiting 45 minutes by the time I got there.
After waiting 30-40 minutes myself, I realized I needed to walk up and say I needed to take the written test. I did so, and finished the test rather quickly, despite the racket produced by everyone in the waiting area (which was not at all separated from the "testing area" aside from a different type of desk--testing ones had desk arms). A small 2-year-old boy and his dad being the noisiest. While they were grading my test, Heather started filling out the computer form to expedite the process. She'd been there all day dealing with major computer problems and cranky patrons, but she was pleasant, even friendly.
She looked at all of my forms of identification and address verification, and another woman took my social security card to a back room to "run" something, though no one said what it was they were running. Heather also got me the correct new license plate with proper registration, and all was going very well until the woman who'd taken my soc. card called from the back room:
"Heather, wait a second. Just wait a minute."
Heather asked if she'd need to push this into deferment, but the woman called, "just wait a second," before appearing from the back room with a piece of printed computer paper.
"What's the deal?" Heather asked.
The woman didn't speak, but held out the paper so only Heather could see, emphatically underlining a particular line on it with her finger and glancing at me with a strange expression.
"Oh, okay." Heather began gathering my pieces of identification, including my AZ license, which she'd tossed behind her into a trash receptacle as we'd begun the process.
"This is what you'll need to do..." and she pushed the pile towards me. "You'll need to go to the social security office and get a verification of your social security number."
When I asked why, she sucked air in through her teeth quickly and said, "oooh, um, I can't tell you that. All I can say is that it's for your protection and the protection of others that we take this precaution. In the age of identity theft, you can't be too careful."
At that point, my insides flipped, and with my mind racing, I could barely follow what was going on. She renewed my plates, though, and gave me the total amount I owed.
"How will you be paying?"
"Check," I said numbly, still processing the soc. card incident as I drew out my pen and checkbook.
A moment passed as I flipped through to the right check, and she stammered, "I can't take a check from you...You have an out-of-state driver's license."
I stared in complete shock. I had proof of my residence in hand, but that, apparently, wasn't enough. "Credit," I whispered.
I left in a daze. Had my identity been called into question twice in one week? Why did I need to go to the social security office? How did I even find one? Had someone stolen my identity - my soc. number or something? Were my bank accounts being drained right then as I stood blankly staring on the downtown sidewalk?
I was late, at that point, to my Tuesday evening class in Muncie, but I was determined to make it there and have a good night anyway. But when I started my car, I was greeted with a red light indicating I had no gas. I blew up.
I was shaking -- mixed fear and anger was coursing through my veins. I couldn't make it to class and do anything if I stopped for gas. I also realized that I didn't have time to visit a Social Security office in the next two days. Elaine was coming. I was in charge of meeting on Thursday with several faculty members. I had software training on Wednesday. I wouldn't be able to sort it all out until at least Friday. AND I HAD NO GAS IN MY CAR.
For two days I stewed over a stolen identity. Would people at the SSO believe I was me? Would they scrutinize my ID as the bouncer had done on Sunday? Would they accept my soc. card, as the license branch had not done Tuesday?
I was shaking when I arrived at the SSO on Friday afternoon, having taken a half-day at work. I was the only person in the place, but still had to take a numbered ticket and wait. A woman called my number. I stumbled over my words, telling her that the license branch had sent me over though I wasn't sure why.
"Verification of your social security number?"
"Sure," I said and shrugged.
She looked me up in the computer and printed something out verifying I was who I said I was. At least somebody believed me this week!
"They send just about everyone with an out-of-state license over here these days with that new computer system," she said, telling me more with those few words than the hundred from Heather's mouth on Tuesday.
I stopped by a different license branch, shortly thereafter, still very nervous that I'd be turned away yet again. I had all my documentation plus the SSO verification, but my hands were shaking.
The girl helping me asked why I had had to get the Soc. verification.
"I don't know," I said truthfully, "It was top secret. They wouldn't tell me."
She laughed and proceeded to explain that the "info check" they ran on my card was standard procedure for out-of-staters, like myself, and that they should have at least mentioned that to me.
Thus the ordeal ended. My identity was not stolen. I am who I say I am, in case any of you had started to doubt me.
With all of this behind me, I am now officially an IN resident with a license and plates to prove it.
Following a rather productive day at work, I drove to the closest BMV branch, noting that the IN.gov web site said it had an average of a 10-minute wait. But the place was packed as Tuesday is the only day they remain open 'til 7pm - everyone who had business to do post-working hours was there. I saw one of the maintenance men who's helped put my office in order this semester. He'd been waiting 45 minutes by the time I got there.
After waiting 30-40 minutes myself, I realized I needed to walk up and say I needed to take the written test. I did so, and finished the test rather quickly, despite the racket produced by everyone in the waiting area (which was not at all separated from the "testing area" aside from a different type of desk--testing ones had desk arms). A small 2-year-old boy and his dad being the noisiest. While they were grading my test, Heather started filling out the computer form to expedite the process. She'd been there all day dealing with major computer problems and cranky patrons, but she was pleasant, even friendly.
She looked at all of my forms of identification and address verification, and another woman took my social security card to a back room to "run" something, though no one said what it was they were running. Heather also got me the correct new license plate with proper registration, and all was going very well until the woman who'd taken my soc. card called from the back room:
"Heather, wait a second. Just wait a minute."
Heather asked if she'd need to push this into deferment, but the woman called, "just wait a second," before appearing from the back room with a piece of printed computer paper.
"What's the deal?" Heather asked.
The woman didn't speak, but held out the paper so only Heather could see, emphatically underlining a particular line on it with her finger and glancing at me with a strange expression.
"Oh, okay." Heather began gathering my pieces of identification, including my AZ license, which she'd tossed behind her into a trash receptacle as we'd begun the process.
"This is what you'll need to do..." and she pushed the pile towards me. "You'll need to go to the social security office and get a verification of your social security number."
When I asked why, she sucked air in through her teeth quickly and said, "oooh, um, I can't tell you that. All I can say is that it's for your protection and the protection of others that we take this precaution. In the age of identity theft, you can't be too careful."
At that point, my insides flipped, and with my mind racing, I could barely follow what was going on. She renewed my plates, though, and gave me the total amount I owed.
"How will you be paying?"
"Check," I said numbly, still processing the soc. card incident as I drew out my pen and checkbook.
A moment passed as I flipped through to the right check, and she stammered, "I can't take a check from you...You have an out-of-state driver's license."
I stared in complete shock. I had proof of my residence in hand, but that, apparently, wasn't enough. "Credit," I whispered.
I left in a daze. Had my identity been called into question twice in one week? Why did I need to go to the social security office? How did I even find one? Had someone stolen my identity - my soc. number or something? Were my bank accounts being drained right then as I stood blankly staring on the downtown sidewalk?
I was late, at that point, to my Tuesday evening class in Muncie, but I was determined to make it there and have a good night anyway. But when I started my car, I was greeted with a red light indicating I had no gas. I blew up.
I was shaking -- mixed fear and anger was coursing through my veins. I couldn't make it to class and do anything if I stopped for gas. I also realized that I didn't have time to visit a Social Security office in the next two days. Elaine was coming. I was in charge of meeting on Thursday with several faculty members. I had software training on Wednesday. I wouldn't be able to sort it all out until at least Friday. AND I HAD NO GAS IN MY CAR.
For two days I stewed over a stolen identity. Would people at the SSO believe I was me? Would they scrutinize my ID as the bouncer had done on Sunday? Would they accept my soc. card, as the license branch had not done Tuesday?
I was shaking when I arrived at the SSO on Friday afternoon, having taken a half-day at work. I was the only person in the place, but still had to take a numbered ticket and wait. A woman called my number. I stumbled over my words, telling her that the license branch had sent me over though I wasn't sure why.
"Verification of your social security number?"
"Sure," I said and shrugged.
She looked me up in the computer and printed something out verifying I was who I said I was. At least somebody believed me this week!
"They send just about everyone with an out-of-state license over here these days with that new computer system," she said, telling me more with those few words than the hundred from Heather's mouth on Tuesday.
I stopped by a different license branch, shortly thereafter, still very nervous that I'd be turned away yet again. I had all my documentation plus the SSO verification, but my hands were shaking.
The girl helping me asked why I had had to get the Soc. verification.
"I don't know," I said truthfully, "It was top secret. They wouldn't tell me."
She laughed and proceeded to explain that the "info check" they ran on my card was standard procedure for out-of-staters, like myself, and that they should have at least mentioned that to me.
Thus the ordeal ended. My identity was not stolen. I am who I say I am, in case any of you had started to doubt me.
With all of this behind me, I am now officially an IN resident with a license and plates to prove it.
17 April 2007
Morning revelation
Every time I drink a cup of coffee, within 15 minutes my eyes are painfully dry and gritty.
I knew coffee was a diuretic, but come on.
I knew coffee was a diuretic, but come on.
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