I work hard for the $$, so you better treat me right.

First, the scariest thing in my office:

Seriously, what the fuck is this thing? My best guess is some sort of "I know an old lady who swallowed a fly"-related game.
Perhaps I'll die; yeah when this thing comes to life and EATS ME.

Second, another tale of the out-of-touch high school librarian I'm forced to work with.
He's doing his freshmen school library orientations this week, and, like last year, I'm going and doing my little song and dance. I was early today (got confused, times-wise) and had to sit through an extremely boring, poorly executed tutorial on using the library.
Here are some highlights:

• a discussion of the internet and search tools that did not mention Google
  
• a namedrop of Coldplay, followed by an admission to a room of 14yrolds that he didn't know who Coldplay was, followed by calling them a rap group, followed by me calling out, "They're terrible!"

When I first got there, one of the reader's club kids (and a somewhat regular of mine) walked up, chatted with me a little, leaned back in her chair, and proceeded to fall back, scattering her crutches, etc. Poor girl is pretty embarrassed at this point, so I just let her be as she fixes the ace bandage on her previously injured foot.
However! Librarian and teacher rush over, making girl even more of a focal point for entire room of 9th graders than she already is. At which point, after ascertaining that girl isn't seriously hurt and doesn't think she needs to go to the nurse's office, librarian says to teacher, perfectly audibly yet over girl's head, "Do you think we should send her anyway, for liability?"
Yeesh.

Happy Banned Books Week!

heart

took him to my party as the games were starting

I've had that song stuck in my head all week. Billboard, Sept 24.

• I'm really not caring about this issue, which will either make this very blah or very bitchy.
• I already spent most of today with the new issue of VOYA, and the latest Booklist--with the cover art for Julie Anne Peters' Far From Xanadu as a cover!--is staring at me.
• Far From Xanadu = a really good book, by the way.
• Depeche Mode is using iTunes to sell tickets for their tour.
• Also, Marissa tells me the new DM song does, in fact, kick ass.
• Um, I know I'm a librarian and supposed to know all kinds of shit, but what's Jack FM? This article is acting like I'm a big stupid head for not knowing.
• Aw, Jools Holland.
• Can anyone think of a good song with the word "bird" in the title? All I'm coming up with right now is "I'm Like a Bird" and, well, ew.
• While it makes me angry when Gwen Stefani shows up in her crazy "style icon!" outfits, it makes me even angrier when she looks cute.
• Reminds me of what could be, perhaps?
• She's looking adorable and pin-up girly in a leopard with white trim halter dress, black heels, and her hair all slicked back, probably chignoned, very Dior New Look makeup.
• boring issue
• Plus, I'm talking about boys and moms with Melissa and girls and Earth Wind and Fire-playing marching bands with Brian, and it's hard to compete with all that, yes?
• Oh, Tom Petty's looking BEAT.
• Ah, there's Gwen in an ill-thought-through ensemble again. That's my girl.
• OK, I get the layout trick of having people pictures look like backstage passes, but I'm wondering at the attention paid to the placement. Too many rockstars and big time music execs with holes in their forheads, magazine.
• Hey, Earth Wind and Fire! Weird.
• Looking even assier than Petty, I might add.
• Almost as assy as Assy the Ass Dog, in fact.
• Assy the Ass Dog was a little toy dog Greg, Jim, Alison, and I found outside Jason Kirker's house on the SouthSide one day. Its ass is in the air, and its head is turned in the scariest little plastic come-hither look since Barbie started opening her eyes all the damn way.
• Gretchen Wilson, your shirt is way too small. And as someone who frequently wears children's clothing, I should know.
• Look, Bon Jovi: just stop. Stop. Please. For me?
• I'll be your best friend?
• Well, that's not true.
• How 'bout this, Jon?
• I'll Twister ya for your career.
• If you win, you can do whatever the fuck you want, make battery commercials, whatever. I'll make a serious attempt not to mock, even.
• If I win, you go back to Jersey and shut your pie hole.
• Agreed?
• Have your people call my people...uh, cats, and we'll set up a meeting.
• You have to bring the Twister board, though.
• And the snacks.
• Do they make truck falafel where you are? Bring that. And some Jones Vanilla Cola.
• Or you could stop in Pittsburgh, and bring me some Hong Kong rice bowl from Lulu's.
• With pork.
• Destiny's Child members are finally letting themselves be referred to as "former Destiny's Child members"--it's about time.
• Um, Tyra, what does "embrace the mystery" mean?
• Does it involve your giant-ass forehead in some way?
• And yes, I can mock the text of a shirt whose proceeds went to Katrina victims. I'm mocking the phrase, not the profits.
• Aw, Queen Latifah. She's so pretty. And she always looks glowy, you know?

met him in a bar/said I know who you are

I have a few executive items to clear up.
***
Somehow, my car payment never made it to the bank this month. I had to put a stop payment on a check, which I'm PRAYING is the right one, since there's a bit of confusion in my register. Otherwise, Sprint and the car people are going to be mad at me. I hate it when I'm responsible and things fuck up anyway. I also hate it when the bank charges me $10 for shit that isn't my fault (for once). So, if you are reading this and I owe you a present, it may be a bit late. But you were expecting that, anyway, weren't you?
(That's for Tiff. As far as I know--and believe me, I would know--Lara is not a Perks reader. She's also more demanding about gifts.)
Speaking of presents, I'm going to be attempting to make things this year. If you're the sort of person I give things to, and have something that I might be able to make in mind, let me know and I'll see what I can do.
Some of you it may be too late for, and you'll just have to like what you get, you ungrateful jerks.
***
Tree is too big for international travel, it was decided. Instead, my small plush triceratops (I named him Fisher the other day) is making the journey. I realized what a good thing this was last night, when I decided to read under the covers. What would I have done without Tree's neck-pillowy goodness?
***
There's been talk floating around the internet lately about my craptacular Friday night. (I love how I can take MySpace, a few Philadelphia-directed emails, some New England IMing, and Melissa's blog and turn them into "The Internet".) I had this whole thing set up, we came up with a fitting insult (Log Cabin Republican, if you're interested), but I just can't carry a grudge all like that.
Unless you're this girl Meisha I went to elementary and high school with. I still hate that bitch. And you really, really don't want to know what set it off. I have few enough friends as is.
Suffice to say, should have been hanging out with one boy. Didn't. Met an asshole.

Cara sez: "I hate when guys who are stupider/less attractive think I should still talk to them as if I were some sort of polite human being. If you aren't good to look at OR good to talk to, please stand somewhere far away and don't bother me."

I say, your problem with my intelligence, appearance, or attitude is not my problem.
The thing that really kills me about this guy, so much so that I'm still going on about it almost a week later when I could be composing my literary crush list or thinking about my actual crush or something, is that, before he turned into Asshole (TM), I was making a concerted effort to not be JessyJudgemental (as he was wearing a sweater and shorts and exhibiting a Mustang logo lookin tattoo, this was HARD) and to be JessyCharming ("Look, they have little stars on the corners!").
Just one quote, then I'll go onto the next item: "Why would anyone go to the library on the weekend?" followed by surprise and disbelief at the idea of people who don't have home computers or internet access.
Ass. Hole.
Who then (sorry, I'm on a roll now and there's still about half an hour til the RunescapeRush), at a different bar, after I was all snug in my bed, visions of kids without internet access dancing in my head, proceeds to bitch about me. To Melissa. And ask for my number.
***
Saturday was a good day, despite working, overanalyzing and jumping to (incorrect) boy conclusions, and falling into bed before 11:30. 18 kids at the anime program! And I learned how to knit in the dark.
Well, reasonably well.
Now I can't decide: do I buy more of the blue cotton yarn to finish the scarf I was working on in the dark, which I think I would wear quite a bit, or do I get completely new stuff, to expand my skill set a bit? And start on seasonably to-be-given-away stuff?
***
I've got 3 days off this weekend, and if I'm not done with that purse at the end of it, someone's gonna pay.
***
I've got these anecdotes that I forget who I've told, so I'm just going to put them on the internet and be done with it. For example, expect to see the Story of the Movie I Helped Twin Peaks Adam Make at some point.
But this is a different tale. And a shorter one.
Last year, when I was looking for library jobs, I used to check out the Special Library Assocation's job listings. (In MLS-land, we call any libraries that aren't academic, public, or school "special". They're not retarded; they're just weird.) This includes jobs like Lexmark's corporate librarian or you know how at the end of Weekend Edition they thank the librarians? Stuff like that.
Fox News listed jobs there, too. There was one that was quite tempting.
For a "Fact Writer".
When I read that listing, I got the greatest envisioning, of a bleak, former supply room somewhere, with all these posters of, like Clinton's face with a slash through it or lists of what constituted Facts.
Actually, in my head, Fox News HQ looked a lot like the workplace in Brazil. The movie, not the country.

I went to Aaaaaaaaarby's yesterday.

It was National Talk Like a Pirate Day, after all.
This is my new crappy Arby’s toy. It magnifies pictures of weather, about 5x. I should also add that these are color copy-ish pictures, so really what’s being magnified is all the little circles, giving it a bit of a rasterbation effect.
Which is kinda cool, now that I think about it. At least for a weirdo, popart obsessed girlie like myself. Not so much for the intended age group, I’m guessing.
And I’m really impressed with how the “camera’s”-eye view picture turned out. Who knew that placing my shitty digital camera up against the eyepiece would actually sort of work?

just a steeltown girl on a Saturday morning

I hate working weekends. I just thought I'd get that out there. I had Friday off, and I planned on doing all sorts of things, like a library visit, getting Junior's oil changed, changing kitty litter, etc. Then I got way-laid by The Purse and Passions.
Which, first of all, can anyone tell me exactly what Liz framed Eve for? And I love love love that Whitney is a nun now. How do you solve a problem like having a child with the man who you later realized is your half brother? How do you hold a sunbeam in your hand? I also like that whatsherface, Ethan's wife, is becoming more bitchy and soap opera badgirl, as opposed to just the whiny little bitch who feels threatened by Theresa.
Passions remains a great show, because I could work on an increasingly complicated knitting project (that was kind of a pun, b/c it was complicated b/c I was decreasing--don't kill yourselves laughing, people) and still figure out the major plot points, at least about the characters I want to know about. I don't give a shit about the "sexy" new bartender and Ivy's family.
Also Friday there was supposed to be Boy Hanging Out, which didn't happen, and I'm hoping was some sort of misunderstanding. I had my fill of stupid boy notcalling with the last one.
Instead, I went out with Melissa's Potential Boy of Interest and his friends. I'll let her tell this story, but, suffice to say, whomever's responsible for me conversing with certain members of this crew, you and perhaps your Grandma Eva owe me a drink.
I'm thinking I may leave this window open most of the day, at least until my anime program at 3, and add to it as things occur to me. It's just not a PoBaL (ooo, acronym! I'm such a damn librarian...) post unless it's 3 years long, right?
***
Also, Legs fucked up my knee last night. Seriously, it hurt for awhile after I disengaged his claws from my flesh and confiscated the ball of yarn. I wasn't just continuously bringing it up to not go off on the guy who was unaware that there are people out there without home internet access, I swear.
***
Anyway, The Purse is mostly done. The knitting part is over, with mixed results. That means that, while it doesn't look quite like I intended and I need more practice decreasing things and keeping my stitches uniform across all the rows, it still looks good. Now I just need to futz with the lining, sew up the sides, and figure out what kind of closure I want. I'm thinking magnetic snap thing. Can you just buy those?
I can't wait until I can actually use this thing!
***
More crafty nerdiness!
Over on Craftster, I'm participating in what's called the "Little Visitor" swap. At first, I thought this was an Aunt Flo reference, but it's actually much better/twee-er. In short, the idea is that you send a stuffed thing to your partner, who gives it a tour of their town, makes it an outfit, and sends it back with a photo album of their trip.
What does this mean for you? Local friends who have always thought that Tree was kinda weird won't have to worry about seeing him for a few weeks, since he'll be on vacation in New York City.
You will, however, have to put up with me showing Humor the Speech Team Whale all around our fair city.
And yes, he's coming out dancing with us, unless I find out he's allergic to cigarette smoke. I'll also be putting pictures on the internet, where all my other pics live.
***
OK, it's after lunch now. So some of you guys have spent the last week or so listening to my steady bitching about
--Ooo, fall Houghton Mifflin preview!--
this group of kids that have been using the library as their playground, despite the perfectly serviceable playground right outside the library. I even have a speech: "Don't run, don't jump down the stairs. You don't climb on the furniture; you don't throw the blocks, nor do you hit each other with the blocks."
Of course they don't listen. Damn 4th graders think they're grown. But then, inevitable, one of them gets wronged by
--Crap, the kid that is kind of consistently trouble just wandered out with a group of friends. I'm really hoping nothing happened.--
the rest of their irritating pack, and comes to tell on them to the librarian.
Which, first of all, I'm not a teacher, bitch. And, second of all, I don't care. Maybe, if she's so mean to you, you shouldn't hang out with her. Maybe none of you should come into the library AT ALL.
At least for the next 2 years, until you're 6th graders and officially mine.
Anyway, the point to all this is that one of them has taken our newfangled IM reference availability to mean that they can tell on some kid apparently harrassing them over the internet.
"He's at the library. Can you get him to leave me alone?"
Except a lot more typo-ridden than that.
***

I'm not as clever as Mark Twain.

September 17, 2005

• The skin on my right hand is all flaky and weird—heh, I’ve got a red right hand. And now it smells like weird lotion. I just noticed this this morning, and I have no idea where it came from. Going to make knitting even more of an adventure…
  
• Old news, I know, but c’mon: “George Bush doesn’t care about black people.” I love a cute, blunt as hell, talented famous boy.
  
• Apparently, elementary school kids are being taught about copyright and to add the circle C to their essays, according to some letter-writing chick from Philadelphia.
  
• And then they’ll all want a Funzo for Christmas.
  
• And, anyway, any Pgh Filmmakers alum has been told that just adding that symbol only goes so far. (thanks, Juan Cantino!)
  
• R.Kelly is BMI’s songwriter of the year. I never cease to be amused by this man, from his alleged secret marriage to Aliyah (that no one talks about anymore), to his newest shit, which I admittedly have neither heard nor seen, but that sounds a lot like an R&B version of Matthew Barney’s Cremaster Cycle: overblown and using imagery someone else used to make one point to make the complete opposite point.
  
• Anyone willing to hear my entire diatribe on Matthew Barney need only to ask.
  
• Damn, that super skinny iPod is sexy.
  
• Aw, Matador records. You just don’t hear enough about them anymore.
  
• Unless you run with people like me ‘n’ Tiff, of course. We’re still too firmly based in the 1990s, musically, to not still heart Matador.
  
• This list item was going to be a 1990s-related Belle & Sebastian quote, but I’m drawing a blank right now, which is kinda crazy for me.
  
• I’ve been all about the ampersand lately.
  
• ”Target is…implementing a bidding system for album cuts in its advertising circulars.”
  
• Target, baby, how can you do this to me? I thought we were tight, what with the $1 skeleton gloves, girl-sized cord blazers, that Hello Kitty dress Shane is wearing for Halloween (yeah, you thought I had forgotten about that, didn’t you?), and the hipster commercials.
  
• Aw, I still love you, sweetie. It’s like the folktale about the woman who lets a snake into her house and then gets surprised when it bites her: no matter how cool Target seems, they are a big multinational box store.
  
• Interestingly enough, Walmart’s still willing to go into a deal with BET that involves Kanye West. Isn’t their target audience the same group of people that suddenly started hating the Dixie Chicks?
  
• Louis XIV + Old Spice = funny as shit. I want a deodorant that smells like greasy hipster.
  
• Shit, that was a joke, but, let’s face it, we all know I’d be down.
  
• Louis XIV are looking quite pretty in this photo. Too bad they kinda suck.
  
• Also, does anyone want to talk about the fact that their single is really only good for dancing to, in a hot smoky alcohol-scented divey space, right before you go home with (most likely) a stranger? Does this say deodorant to ANYONE?
  
• Bueller?
  
• I guess my problem with all this is that I really don’t buy Louis XIV smelling all that fresh and Old Spice-ish, you know?
  
• Perks Of Being a Librarian: your home for discussions of how faux new wave bands smell!
  
• I don’t know who Bebe is, but I need someone to cause a distraction so I can steal her coat. It’s pictured on page 35, and it matches the purse I’m knitting PERFECTLY.
  
• New Echo & the Bunnymen—hee. And a tour!
  
• Anyone heard the new Depeche Mode single yet? I’m curious. As long as it doesn’t sound like “People are People”. I fucking hate that song.
  
• OK, I’ve finally found it: an unflattering photo of Kanye West. They do, in fact, exist, and where else but in the Billboard charts would I find it? That is, after all, wear they stick all those fake boobalicious pictures of Ms Carey.
  
• For just $3,375,000, me and James could live on Mulholland Drive! “Just you, and I, forever…” um, I forget the rest. Cara? Tiff? Little help?
  
• Oh my god, Shirley Manson has the same horrible fake smile in pictures I have! Scary.