My lack of blogging lately isn't necessarily because of Facebook or lack of material. It's simply been a wacky schedule with lots of vacation and time off interspersed with working on wacky work things. Since October, I have barely worked a single normal five day week and I've been working every other weekend since Thanksgiving. Breaking it down, starting with the week of October 5 and taking me through the end of January:
4.5 days on, 3.5 off
3 days on, 11 days off (Disney: Family Edition)
6 days on (two of them half-days), .5 off
3 days on, 3 off (MACE convention)
1 day on, 1 day off (Veteran's Day)
3 days on, 2 off (weekend)
5 days on, 2 off (a normal week and weekend!)
2 days on, 3 off (Thanksgiving)
6 days on (two of them half-days), 1 off
5 days on (two of them half-days), 5 off (Disney: Girlfriends Edition)
1 day on, 1 off (comp time for yet another weekend)
3 days on, 1 off
2 days on, 5 off (Christmas)
3 days on, 2 off (New Years)
5 days on (two of them half-days), 4 off (Disney: Marathon Edition)
4.5 days on, 3.5 off (MLK weekend)
4 days on, 2 off
5 on, 2 off (another normal week, and the turning point where life will seem to get back to normal)
That last week mentioned is the week of Jan. 25. No wonder I feel so disoriented!
Showing posts with label Rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rants. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Now I KNOW the Economy Is Bad
I treat myself every so often to a lunch of fried shrimp and hushpuppies at a local restaurant here in Apex. They have won recognition in particular for their fish sandwich. It has been honored in several local publications as a "Best Value" because it's huge and cheap. Their shrimp is also a decent value... $7.99 for about 14 medium shrimp with a pile o' fries and three hushpuppies, plus a soda.
They have a self-serve soda fountain, but they have always had an annoying sign on it that said "Refills are only for dining in the restaurant," which made me wonder if they really had a problem with people coming in off the street (this is near a highway intersection... not a pedestrian area) and filling up their mugs with Pepsi products. But whatever. I would drink my drink in the restaurant, then refill, put a lid on the cup, and take the soda back to work with me to hold me through the afternoon. My conscious is clear. I don't see this as soda abuse.
So I went back yesterday for the first time in several weeks. I placed my order, and they handed me a cup that was HALF the size of the ones they used to have. Probably a 12 oz. cup. I looked at it and said, "I think this is the wrong size cup." He said, "It's the only size we have. It's right." And I could tell from his voice that he had answered this question a million times... and I knew what had happened. Apparently, the owner has decided to cut costs, and he thinks the soda is what is doing him in. Well... that and the hushpuppies, which were half the size THEY used to be. And the cocktail sauce, which was in the same size little ramekin, but it was only half full. And they used to give you TWO ramekins, but I was only offered one.
I was pleased that I didn't seem to be getting less shrimp or fries. But I have to wonder. Does he really think those items are affecting his bottom line that much?
They have a self-serve soda fountain, but they have always had an annoying sign on it that said "Refills are only for dining in the restaurant," which made me wonder if they really had a problem with people coming in off the street (this is near a highway intersection... not a pedestrian area) and filling up their mugs with Pepsi products. But whatever. I would drink my drink in the restaurant, then refill, put a lid on the cup, and take the soda back to work with me to hold me through the afternoon. My conscious is clear. I don't see this as soda abuse.
So I went back yesterday for the first time in several weeks. I placed my order, and they handed me a cup that was HALF the size of the ones they used to have. Probably a 12 oz. cup. I looked at it and said, "I think this is the wrong size cup." He said, "It's the only size we have. It's right." And I could tell from his voice that he had answered this question a million times... and I knew what had happened. Apparently, the owner has decided to cut costs, and he thinks the soda is what is doing him in. Well... that and the hushpuppies, which were half the size THEY used to be. And the cocktail sauce, which was in the same size little ramekin, but it was only half full. And they used to give you TWO ramekins, but I was only offered one.
I was pleased that I didn't seem to be getting less shrimp or fries. But I have to wonder. Does he really think those items are affecting his bottom line that much?
Friday, August 22, 2008
Hazards of Mid-Life Crises
Well, wouldn't you know it? About two days before I hit the 30 day mark on my piercing, I get the beginning of what would soon become a nasty little infection. Very few piercings result in infection. Unfortunately, belly piercings are more likely than most (although obviously there are piercings in more ... um... hard to clean areas that get infected a lot too). And double-unfortunately, mine has become one of them.
Over the weekend, I started getting some twinges of pain that told me something was wrong, but the piercing has been a little angry ever since I got it, so I figured it was just that. A little redness... no biggie.
By Tuesday, the ooze had begun. This is totally just as gross as it sounds. When I first got pierced, I was told that there would be some oozing initially and to just keep cleaning it. I was pleased to find that I had no oozing at all. I took this as a good sign! Apparently, I was wrong.
So anyway, on Tuesday, I called the piercing place and told them my plight. I described the situation, and they asked me to come in. Needed to see it first hand before making any sort of judgement.
I went in, and they agreed that it was not (yet) an infection, but had potential. Oh yeah, my overachieving white blood cells... gotta love 'em! Anyway, they changed out my nice sparkly jewelry for a plain, longer barbell to accomodate the swelling, gave me instructions for a salt soak (three times a day for ten minutes a pop) and sent me on my way.
I began my soaks, and found the easiest way to do them was in a nice tub of warm water. Wednesday night, when I finished my soak and pulled the drain on the tub, I stood up only to hear a distinct *ting* on the tub floor. I looked down, and there was the barbell, with no closure. The other ball on the bar had apparently immediately gone down the drain. Dammit.
This early into the piercing (up to three months), they suggest that you come in to have them change out the jewelry, so even if I had wanted to do it myself, I really needed to have them do it. Just looking down at the oozy hole was enough to convince me there was no WAY I was going to do it, and so I got dressed, jumped in the car, and headed into town.
When I got there, someone was getting her nipple ring changed out. It was not someone I really wanted to see get a nipple ring changed, but it was interesting nonetheless. Then it was my turn. He cleaned the wound, replaced the barbell with a new ball and sent me on my way. And oh, there was pain and discomfort, my friends.
They told me to come back today so they could look at it and be sure it wasn't becoming an infection. I headed in thinking that I was feeling much better actually, and the salt soaks really seem to be working. This demonstrates how unrealistic I am. He looked at it, took the barbell out, did some squeezing, and declared my piercing officially infected. JOY!
Because he is holistic, he recommended continuing the salt soaks for another 24 hours before resorting to evil antibiotics. I did actually consider this. But that would mean that if the salt soaks did NOT work, I would be going to Urgent Care on a Sunday morning before I had to be at work. Not cool. So I sort of flipped a coin.
I left a message for my doctor's nurse with details of my situation and requested that she call in a prescription for me. If she needed me to come in first, well... I couldn't do that as I was in meetings the rest of the day. I'd opt for Urgent Care on Sunday and go forth with my hippie salt soaks. She called me back quickly and said, "No worries... I'll call it in."
So now I have a Z-Pac. And I'm looking forward to being infection-free within 72 hours. Sure, I feel bad that I cheated a bit. I know antibiotics aren't great for me in the long run. But seriously. Did I mention the ooze? This totally needs to go away. Now.
Over the weekend, I started getting some twinges of pain that told me something was wrong, but the piercing has been a little angry ever since I got it, so I figured it was just that. A little redness... no biggie.
By Tuesday, the ooze had begun. This is totally just as gross as it sounds. When I first got pierced, I was told that there would be some oozing initially and to just keep cleaning it. I was pleased to find that I had no oozing at all. I took this as a good sign! Apparently, I was wrong.
So anyway, on Tuesday, I called the piercing place and told them my plight. I described the situation, and they asked me to come in. Needed to see it first hand before making any sort of judgement.
I went in, and they agreed that it was not (yet) an infection, but had potential. Oh yeah, my overachieving white blood cells... gotta love 'em! Anyway, they changed out my nice sparkly jewelry for a plain, longer barbell to accomodate the swelling, gave me instructions for a salt soak (three times a day for ten minutes a pop) and sent me on my way.
I began my soaks, and found the easiest way to do them was in a nice tub of warm water. Wednesday night, when I finished my soak and pulled the drain on the tub, I stood up only to hear a distinct *ting* on the tub floor. I looked down, and there was the barbell, with no closure. The other ball on the bar had apparently immediately gone down the drain. Dammit.
This early into the piercing (up to three months), they suggest that you come in to have them change out the jewelry, so even if I had wanted to do it myself, I really needed to have them do it. Just looking down at the oozy hole was enough to convince me there was no WAY I was going to do it, and so I got dressed, jumped in the car, and headed into town.
When I got there, someone was getting her nipple ring changed out. It was not someone I really wanted to see get a nipple ring changed, but it was interesting nonetheless. Then it was my turn. He cleaned the wound, replaced the barbell with a new ball and sent me on my way. And oh, there was pain and discomfort, my friends.
They told me to come back today so they could look at it and be sure it wasn't becoming an infection. I headed in thinking that I was feeling much better actually, and the salt soaks really seem to be working. This demonstrates how unrealistic I am. He looked at it, took the barbell out, did some squeezing, and declared my piercing officially infected. JOY!
Because he is holistic, he recommended continuing the salt soaks for another 24 hours before resorting to evil antibiotics. I did actually consider this. But that would mean that if the salt soaks did NOT work, I would be going to Urgent Care on a Sunday morning before I had to be at work. Not cool. So I sort of flipped a coin.
I left a message for my doctor's nurse with details of my situation and requested that she call in a prescription for me. If she needed me to come in first, well... I couldn't do that as I was in meetings the rest of the day. I'd opt for Urgent Care on Sunday and go forth with my hippie salt soaks. She called me back quickly and said, "No worries... I'll call it in."
So now I have a Z-Pac. And I'm looking forward to being infection-free within 72 hours. Sure, I feel bad that I cheated a bit. I know antibiotics aren't great for me in the long run. But seriously. Did I mention the ooze? This totally needs to go away. Now.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Eye Eye Cap'n
Chris got the eye gout last week. It wasn't pink eye, exactly, but it behaved like pink eye... except for the pink part. Runny, swollen... almost looked like he'd... um... walked into a door. You know. Really hard. One of those doors with five fingers tightly crunched up in a ball-like shape.
And two of his co-workers had it as well. At almost exactly the same time. I said "Don't touch me, you infested-with-gout icky boy." But, you know... I didn't resort to sleeping on the couch or anything.
He's all better now... but since yesterday, my eye has been twitching. This morning, driving to work, I swear it started to swell shut. As I left my library to go to another library to cover their staff meeting, I felt it again... swelling.
So I did what any card-carrying real woman does. I called my husband to bitch at him.
His response?
"It was allergies, hun."
uh huh... well... then your allergies are catching, my man.
ALTHOUGH, it does always seem to get worse when I go outside. Stupid pollen. Stupid eye gout. Stupid twitchy eye.
And two of his co-workers had it as well. At almost exactly the same time. I said "Don't touch me, you infested-with-gout icky boy." But, you know... I didn't resort to sleeping on the couch or anything.
He's all better now... but since yesterday, my eye has been twitching. This morning, driving to work, I swear it started to swell shut. As I left my library to go to another library to cover their staff meeting, I felt it again... swelling.
So I did what any card-carrying real woman does. I called my husband to bitch at him.
His response?
"It was allergies, hun."
uh huh... well... then your allergies are catching, my man.
ALTHOUGH, it does always seem to get worse when I go outside. Stupid pollen. Stupid eye gout. Stupid twitchy eye.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Practical Cats (and Ungrateful People)
My kitty is so proud. She wrote you the following and asked me to post it for you to read and enjoy.
Hello. My name is Hermione, and I am the lovely kitty of Elizabeth and Chris. In theory, I suppose I should admit that there are two little creatures living here too, but they are loud and they tend to pull my fur, so I generally don't talk to them. The girl one has nice pillows on her bed, though. So I like to sleep on them when she is away. Maybe it makes her sneeze. I don't care.
Anyway, I am writing today to tell you of how ungrateful my people are. Today, my woman person came home early from work! I was very excited! I came down right away to say hello, and she petted me and told me I was beautiful (which I am, of course).
So after she gave me so much love and such good scratchies, I felt I should do something nice for her. I know I didn't have to, but that's just what makes me so nice.
So I went outside and found the cutest little fun toy I could. I brought it in to her while she was cleaning the closet out. (She does this so often, I wonder how it keeps getting all messed up... I bet she wonders that too). I put it right at her feet. She stepped back a little, and barely stepped on my little gift. She said, "Oh, I'm sorry, Hermione! Was that your tail?" Then she looked to her left and saw me there. I said *blink.* Then she said *blink.* Then she said, "Oh, what was that I stepped... a SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!"
And then she screamed a scream that would call forth the very devil. Fortunately, I know the devil quite well, and he knows me... so he knew he wasn't needed here.
Then that silly lady FREAKED out. She called my man person and shrieked into the phone. Since he is so far away and couldn't help her, he called the neighbor. The neighbor came over (after my woman person had trapped the gift under a toy bucket that belongs to one of the moist little creatures of the house) and put something heavy on top of it. The neighbor is a real meany! She took my gift right outside and put it in the bushes. hrmph.
These people just don't value a true gift of the heart.
Hello. My name is Hermione, and I am the lovely kitty of Elizabeth and Chris. In theory, I suppose I should admit that there are two little creatures living here too, but they are loud and they tend to pull my fur, so I generally don't talk to them. The girl one has nice pillows on her bed, though. So I like to sleep on them when she is away. Maybe it makes her sneeze. I don't care.
Anyway, I am writing today to tell you of how ungrateful my people are. Today, my woman person came home early from work! I was very excited! I came down right away to say hello, and she petted me and told me I was beautiful (which I am, of course).
So after she gave me so much love and such good scratchies, I felt I should do something nice for her. I know I didn't have to, but that's just what makes me so nice.
So I went outside and found the cutest little fun toy I could. I brought it in to her while she was cleaning the closet out. (She does this so often, I wonder how it keeps getting all messed up... I bet she wonders that too). I put it right at her feet. She stepped back a little, and barely stepped on my little gift. She said, "Oh, I'm sorry, Hermione! Was that your tail?" Then she looked to her left and saw me there. I said *blink.* Then she said *blink.* Then she said, "Oh, what was that I stepped... a SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!"
And then she screamed a scream that would call forth the very devil. Fortunately, I know the devil quite well, and he knows me... so he knew he wasn't needed here.
Then that silly lady FREAKED out. She called my man person and shrieked into the phone. Since he is so far away and couldn't help her, he called the neighbor. The neighbor came over (after my woman person had trapped the gift under a toy bucket that belongs to one of the moist little creatures of the house) and put something heavy on top of it. The neighbor is a real meany! She took my gift right outside and put it in the bushes. hrmph.
These people just don't value a true gift of the heart.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Leaving On a Jet Plane
I'm off to the frozen north tomorrow. Minneapolis. Cold. Speaking of which, I have one. A cold that is. It kicked it around Friday night, and despite my best efforts to hold it off, it has managed to creep down from my sinuses (where it is still happily dwelling) into my throat. Sort of a Manifest Destiny situation. This would be fine except... well, did I mention I'm getting on a plane tomorrow? I did. Yes, well... it bears repeating...
I'm getting on a plane WITH a freaking head cold. (I have the cold, mind you... not the plane... which would be just silly, right? Although planes do have noses...)
Hmmmm... how many Benadryl did I take?
I'm getting on a plane WITH a freaking head cold. (I have the cold, mind you... not the plane... which would be just silly, right? Although planes do have noses...)
Hmmmm... how many Benadryl did I take?
Saturday, March 22, 2008
The Glamorous Life
As a librarian, travel opportunities are rare. And when they come along, they are often as anti-glamorous as you would expect. And here's proof.
Tuesday, I leave for the PLA (Public Library Association) Conference in BEE-Utiful Minneapolis. I return the following Sunday. Over those six days, the average temp is expected to be 30 degrees F.
The F stands for F**king Cold.
Today, it was 70 degrees F here.
The F stands for Fabulous.
My F's are all "F"ed up.
Tuesday, I leave for the PLA (Public Library Association) Conference in BEE-Utiful Minneapolis. I return the following Sunday. Over those six days, the average temp is expected to be 30 degrees F.
The F stands for F**king Cold.
Today, it was 70 degrees F here.
The F stands for Fabulous.
My F's are all "F"ed up.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Sibling Rivalry
I'm way past my jealousy of my sister. Way past it. I mean, it doesn't bother me in the least that she once chatted with Bill Murray for about fifteen minutes before a Broadway show once, just because she actually had the nerve to approach him when she spotted him down the row from her.
And I don't even care that she talked to Elizabeth Taylor for quite some time at a Macy's event she was working.
And certainly, it doesn't faze me in the least that she just traveled to Japan on business. I mean, she did send us all some way cool kimonos.
So I am CERTAINLY not jealous that she is turning Times Square into a Buddhist Garden on Thursday as a publicity event for a Japanese Buddhist organization. A stunt that will be on all the major networks' morning shows (tune into your favorite and marvel at her skillz). And besides, who really wants to escort Mira Sorvino to an awards ceremony so she can get some recognition for her peace efforts? Really. I mean, besides my husband, who would have ulterior motives anyway. Who cares?
*uh... am I looking a bit green to you?*
And I don't even care that she talked to Elizabeth Taylor for quite some time at a Macy's event she was working.
And certainly, it doesn't faze me in the least that she just traveled to Japan on business. I mean, she did send us all some way cool kimonos.
So I am CERTAINLY not jealous that she is turning Times Square into a Buddhist Garden on Thursday as a publicity event for a Japanese Buddhist organization. A stunt that will be on all the major networks' morning shows (tune into your favorite and marvel at her skillz). And besides, who really wants to escort Mira Sorvino to an awards ceremony so she can get some recognition for her peace efforts? Really. I mean, besides my husband, who would have ulterior motives anyway. Who cares?
*uh... am I looking a bit green to you?*
Friday, March 14, 2008
And I Thought We Loved Penguins
Apparently, Louden, VA doesn't love penguins. Or at least one jerk of a superintendent doesn't.
I am apathetic about many things. This is not one of them. I apologize for being late in sharing this. I'm catching up on my professional reading.
I may buy this book this weekend for Marcus' birthday.
I am apathetic about many things. This is not one of them. I apologize for being late in sharing this. I'm catching up on my professional reading.
I may buy this book this weekend for Marcus' birthday.
Monday, January 21, 2008
We Are So Screwed
Well, fate has pointed its fickle finger to us, apparently, and I say "PSHAW" to your broken windshields, crummy phone/cable service, and bad column on the front porch. When we get screwed, we go all the way.
Let me explain.
No, it's too much. Let me sum up.
Termite inspector came two weeks ago for annual inspection. Found high moisture levels and standing water, but no termites, in our crawl space.
Chris poked around down there and couldn't find the problem.
Chris went down two days later and after crawling around a bit more, found the problem. Rotted floor joist, ruined insulation, and two pipes terminating just above that. He contacted the builder.
Builder emailed him back to say they would be in touch.
Termite people called to schedule another inspection since they have a $25,000 guarantee that we won't have termites, and wet wood is really not on their side when it comes to keeping their money in the bank.
Builder has not been in touch.
We did laundry this weekend. Lots of laundry.
Termite guy comes today and confirms that the exposed pipes are the problem, the damage extends into our garage and could cause our staircase to collapse, and the culprit is most likely our washing machine (even though we haven't noticed a leak at all). He also confirms that the idea of terminating pipes into our crawl space is negligent and stupid AND even if they were only for emergencies, they terminate too high, therefore splashing water on our dry wall and other important bits that keep the house standing upright. We prefer that our house stand upright. Call us sentimental, if you will, but we do.
He also pointed out some problems with our water heater "leak prevention" pan provided by our builder. Basically, if the water heater has to "blow off," the water would spray everywhere before it even thought about going down the "emergency drain" which also terminates in the crawl space. This would ruin walls and carpet upstairs. Not all of them, mind you, but some. I was thrilled.
Called Sears to have someone repair the washer. They can't come until Monday (one week from today) between 8 and 12. (They apparently learned scheduling from Time Warner Cable and glass repair dudes).
Called Nationwide to file a claim. If it's covered, we're looking at a $500 deductible and I am hoping THEY will wrestle with the builders to get the money back. If it's NOT covered, we will have to pay for repairs out of pocket while we wrestle with the builder. (I'm assuming that the builder isn't going to just fork over the dough). We're talking substantial money. I'm guessing in the 10K range. Yes, that's 10 G's. 10 grand. TEN FREAKING THOUSAND dollars.
We looked at our budget last night and realized that we have zero money on hand regularly. Negative really. Not that we needed a budget to tell us this... it just confirmed what we already suspected. I will have to sell stock that my grandfather gave me to pay for this. And pay Capital Gains taxes on it. And I will then have nothing in savings save my random 401K accounts that are dotted all over the US of A.
We are so screwed.
Let me explain.
No, it's too much. Let me sum up.
Termite inspector came two weeks ago for annual inspection. Found high moisture levels and standing water, but no termites, in our crawl space.
Chris poked around down there and couldn't find the problem.
Chris went down two days later and after crawling around a bit more, found the problem. Rotted floor joist, ruined insulation, and two pipes terminating just above that. He contacted the builder.
Builder emailed him back to say they would be in touch.
Termite people called to schedule another inspection since they have a $25,000 guarantee that we won't have termites, and wet wood is really not on their side when it comes to keeping their money in the bank.
Builder has not been in touch.
We did laundry this weekend. Lots of laundry.
Termite guy comes today and confirms that the exposed pipes are the problem, the damage extends into our garage and could cause our staircase to collapse, and the culprit is most likely our washing machine (even though we haven't noticed a leak at all). He also confirms that the idea of terminating pipes into our crawl space is negligent and stupid AND even if they were only for emergencies, they terminate too high, therefore splashing water on our dry wall and other important bits that keep the house standing upright. We prefer that our house stand upright. Call us sentimental, if you will, but we do.
He also pointed out some problems with our water heater "leak prevention" pan provided by our builder. Basically, if the water heater has to "blow off," the water would spray everywhere before it even thought about going down the "emergency drain" which also terminates in the crawl space. This would ruin walls and carpet upstairs. Not all of them, mind you, but some. I was thrilled.
Called Sears to have someone repair the washer. They can't come until Monday (one week from today) between 8 and 12. (They apparently learned scheduling from Time Warner Cable and glass repair dudes).
Called Nationwide to file a claim. If it's covered, we're looking at a $500 deductible and I am hoping THEY will wrestle with the builders to get the money back. If it's NOT covered, we will have to pay for repairs out of pocket while we wrestle with the builder. (I'm assuming that the builder isn't going to just fork over the dough). We're talking substantial money. I'm guessing in the 10K range. Yes, that's 10 G's. 10 grand. TEN FREAKING THOUSAND dollars.
We looked at our budget last night and realized that we have zero money on hand regularly. Negative really. Not that we needed a budget to tell us this... it just confirmed what we already suspected. I will have to sell stock that my grandfather gave me to pay for this. And pay Capital Gains taxes on it. And I will then have nothing in savings save my random 401K accounts that are dotted all over the US of A.
We are so screwed.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Stupid Alarm
Athena had some issues sleeping last night. Consequently, so did Chris and I.
Actually, I can't be sure it was all Athena. I think I noticed Chris come back to bed at least once last night, and I have no idea if that was to take care of Marcus or Athena... I never heard either one of them cry.
But shortly after he came in, Athena pattered in all smiley and expectant. It was 4am and she was intending to crawl into bed with Daddy. I led her back to her room instead.
She was obviously tired, but awake, nonetheless, so I tried to get her to relax. I thought she was drifting off, so I exited, only to be pulled back in her room 15 minutes by her wails and moans.
She dropped off very quickly this second time, and I came back to bed. I was seriously into my REM sleep when the stupid alarm went off. It was hard work to rouse myself completely and get out of bed, but I managed to accomplish it in a half hour or so, knowing that if I waited much longer than that, I'd be seriously late to work.
It wasn't until I got into the shower that I realized I have to start my day at another library today, and don't really need to be there until 8:15, which means I probably could have waited another half hour (beyond when I actually got up) to get out of bed.
Stupid alarm.
Actually, I can't be sure it was all Athena. I think I noticed Chris come back to bed at least once last night, and I have no idea if that was to take care of Marcus or Athena... I never heard either one of them cry.
But shortly after he came in, Athena pattered in all smiley and expectant. It was 4am and she was intending to crawl into bed with Daddy. I led her back to her room instead.
She was obviously tired, but awake, nonetheless, so I tried to get her to relax. I thought she was drifting off, so I exited, only to be pulled back in her room 15 minutes by her wails and moans.
She dropped off very quickly this second time, and I came back to bed. I was seriously into my REM sleep when the stupid alarm went off. It was hard work to rouse myself completely and get out of bed, but I managed to accomplish it in a half hour or so, knowing that if I waited much longer than that, I'd be seriously late to work.
It wasn't until I got into the shower that I realized I have to start my day at another library today, and don't really need to be there until 8:15, which means I probably could have waited another half hour (beyond when I actually got up) to get out of bed.
Stupid alarm.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Poop Happens
It has finally happened. I have had it up to HERE with poop. Lately, it seems everything in our house revolves around the vile stuff. Poop has never been my favorite subject to begin with, and here I am, BLOGGING about it.
New Cat: poop in the litter box.
Older Toddler: potty training (training is the operative word here)
Younger Toddler: NOT potty training... just pooping
Training Potty: Chamber pot in which someone poops and someone else has to clean it up
Bad Diapering: Poop everywhere from clothing to car seat
Fancy Scandinavian Diaper Pail: Improperly installed bags that don't receive poop properly
Apple Juice: Soft messy poop
Cheese Sandwiches: Big hard poop
Artificial Coloring in Foods: Multicolored poop
I HATE POOP! Make it stop!
New Cat: poop in the litter box.
Older Toddler: potty training (training is the operative word here)
Younger Toddler: NOT potty training... just pooping
Training Potty: Chamber pot in which someone poops and someone else has to clean it up
Bad Diapering: Poop everywhere from clothing to car seat
Fancy Scandinavian Diaper Pail: Improperly installed bags that don't receive poop properly
Apple Juice: Soft messy poop
Cheese Sandwiches: Big hard poop
Artificial Coloring in Foods: Multicolored poop
I HATE POOP! Make it stop!
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Laundry Purgatory
Today, I am packing for Disney and working my way through Laundry Purgatory. I thought I'd seize the opportunity since Chris is working this afternoon. Laundry is normally his job, but he tends to stick to the "must do's" rather than feeling that all of it is really needed. Therefore, we have an impressive backlog in the laundry room I like to refer to as Laundry Purgatory. I'm sure it happens in all homes, but it happens to an extreme degree in ours.
You know... all those blankets, comforter covers, area rugs, delicates... all those things you don't want to wash or feel you don't have to because there isn't an immediate need for that particular thing. In our house, this usually amounts to the area rug in the guest bathroom, the off-season comforters, and some of my clothes. One year, the comforter cover I removed in the spring didn't get washed until I took the lightweight cover off in the fall and realized I had nothing to recover the comforter with.
Don't get me wrong here... this is not a post knocking Chris for not getting to this stuff. I am just as capable of doing it, and I don't ever get to it. So today, I'm getting to it. Chris caught up on most of the laundry earlier this week, so with any luck, Purgatory will be empty by the end of the day.
You know... all those blankets, comforter covers, area rugs, delicates... all those things you don't want to wash or feel you don't have to because there isn't an immediate need for that particular thing. In our house, this usually amounts to the area rug in the guest bathroom, the off-season comforters, and some of my clothes. One year, the comforter cover I removed in the spring didn't get washed until I took the lightweight cover off in the fall and realized I had nothing to recover the comforter with.
Don't get me wrong here... this is not a post knocking Chris for not getting to this stuff. I am just as capable of doing it, and I don't ever get to it. So today, I'm getting to it. Chris caught up on most of the laundry earlier this week, so with any luck, Purgatory will be empty by the end of the day.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
I'm at the End
The library closes next week for renovation, and I'm at the end of my rope. I've hurt people's feelings, made them angry, and even think I've ended a friendship because of the stress. For the first time in years, I don't want to go to work tomorrow.
But I will. And I will go in next week too. And then I will go to DisneyWorld and try to re-normalize myself so I can come back a productive, caring citizen of libraryland.
I doubt I will post again until we travel. Unless I witness or partake in a great "moving-the-library" story, which I will... of course... share.
Oh, and if Marcus doesn't start walking soon, I may rupture a disc. He's almost as heavy as Athena. I'm developing severe wrist pain from carrying him.
I know... "whine, whine, whine." But if you can't whine in your blog, who can you whine to?
But I will. And I will go in next week too. And then I will go to DisneyWorld and try to re-normalize myself so I can come back a productive, caring citizen of libraryland.
I doubt I will post again until we travel. Unless I witness or partake in a great "moving-the-library" story, which I will... of course... share.
Oh, and if Marcus doesn't start walking soon, I may rupture a disc. He's almost as heavy as Athena. I'm developing severe wrist pain from carrying him.
I know... "whine, whine, whine." But if you can't whine in your blog, who can you whine to?
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Let Me Get This Straight
The Wall Street Journal published a piece about libraries the other day. I would like to take this opportunity to respond. I wish I could reproduce the whole article here for you, but that would violate copyright, and we all know how I feel about that. So I shall quote a lot of it. My citation is incomplete (read "nonexistent" at the moment, but I will edit it later). It appeared in the 1/3 paper I believe, and was written by Mr. John J. Miller. His words are in italics...
Full Citation: In the Fray: Should Libraries' Target Audience Be Cheapskates With Mass-Market Tastes? John J. Miller. Wall Street Journal (Eastern edition). New York, N.Y.: Jan 3, 2007. p. D.9
"For Whom the Bell Tolls" may be one of Ernest Hemingway's best- known books, but it isn't exactly flying off the shelves in northern Virginia these days. Precisely nobody has checked out a copy from the Fairfax County Public Library system in the past two years.
Full Citation: In the Fray: Should Libraries' Target Audience Be Cheapskates With Mass-Market Tastes? John J. Miller. Wall Street Journal (Eastern edition). New York, N.Y.: Jan 3, 2007. p. D.9
"For Whom the Bell Tolls" may be one of Ernest Hemingway's best- known books, but it isn't exactly flying off the shelves in northern Virginia these days. Precisely nobody has checked out a copy from the Fairfax County Public Library system in the past two years.
I say, does this surprise you? Who reads Hemingway anymore?
And now the bell may toll for Hemingway. ... If titles remain untouched for two years, they may be discarded -- permanently.
Well, yes. No one has read it, so why exactly should one keep it?
Library officials explain, not unreasonably, that their shelf space is limited and that they want to satisfy the demands of the public. Every unpopular book that's removed from circulation, after all, creates room for a new page-turner by John Grisham, David Baldacci, or James Patterson -- the authors of the three most checked-out books in Fairfax County last month.
But this raises a fundamental question: What are libraries for? Are they cultural storehouses that contain the best that has been thought and said? Or are they more like actual stores, responding to whatever fickle taste or Mitch Albom tearjerker is all the rage at this very moment?
If the answer is the latter, then why must we have government-run libraries at all? There's a fine line between an institution that aims to edify the public and one that merely uses tax dollars to subsidize the recreational habits of bookworms.
Okay, wait just a second. So... if people are reading books from the library, but they aren't Hemingway (or Proust, or Hardy) and they LIKE those books, then why do it? Are you saying that government entities should not exist for recreation? Hmmmm... I imagine there is a whole Parks service that may see that a bit differently.
Perhaps [Fairfax County is] inadvertently highlighting the fact that libraries themselves are becoming outmoded.
Uh, what?
There was a time when virtually every library was a cultural repository holding priceless volumes. Imagine how much richer our historical and literary record would be if a single library full of unique volumes -- the fabled Royal Library of Alexandria, in Egypt -- had survived to the present day.
Okay, first... there is this place called the Library of Congress. It has a lot of stuff in it. You should check it out (if I may use the phrase).
And second, this is REALLY hypothetical, dude. Are you trying to put forth that if the Library in Alexandria had survived, we would be better off? That if we had held on to a whole lot of papers that no one was reading anymore until they disintegrated... we would be living in some sort of Utopia now? And that all those papers were worth reading? Okay... I think that's a stretch, but I'll bite, as I'm just curious where this is going.
Carnegie always credited his success in business to the fact that he could borrow books from private libraries while he was growing up. His philanthropy meant to provide similar opportunities to later generations. ...
It has never been easier or cheaper to read a book, and the costs of reading probably will do nothing but drop further...
YAY! Books are cheap! This is good, right?!
If public libraries attempt to compete in this environment, they will increasingly be seen for what Fairfax County apparently envisions them to be: welfare programs for middle-class readers who would rather borrow Nelson DeMille's newest potboiler than spend a few dollars for it at their local Wal-Mart.
My head... it's hurting... Please... don't go where I think you are going, man.
Instead of embracing this doomed model, libraries might seek to differentiate themselves among the many options readers now have, using a good dictionary as the model. Such a dictionary doesn't merely describe the words of a language -- it provides proper spelling, pronunciation and usage. New words come in and old ones go out, but a reliable lexicon becomes a foundation of linguistic stability and coherence. Likewise, libraries should seek to shore up the culture against the eroding force of trends.
AAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH! You totally went there! You WENT there. May I remind you that Austen, Bronte, Dickens, Poe... they were all writing serial novels? They were POPULAR READING! Some were even, dare I say, considered substandard for a while. There was little that marked them as much more than... well... TRENDS!
The particulars of this task will fall upon the shoulders of individual librarians, who should welcome the opportunity to discriminate between the good and the bad, the timeless and the ephemeral, as librarians traditionally have done...
You mean, "censor?" And exactly what tradition is this? Librarians have been pushing the right to read and Freedom of Information for decades now. How old are you, man?
They ought to regard themselves as not just experts in the arcane ways of the Dewey Decimal System, but as teachers, advisers and guardians of an intellectual inheritance.
Well, at least you support my desire to be an expert in the Dewey Decimal System. After all, that's why I went to library school, right?
The alternative is for them to morph into clerks who fill their shelves with whatever their "customers" want, much as stock boys at grocery stores do. Both libraries and the public, however, would be ill-served by such a Faustian bargain.
So, by "Faustian bargain," do you mean "spending your tax dollars on things you want to read rather than on things that I think you should read?" Because personally, I'm usually looking for my government, whether it be local, state, or federal, to actually do something that I WANT them to do with my tax money, and give me something that I will actually use. But maybe that's just me.
That's a reference, by the way, to one of literature's great antiheroes. Good luck finding Christopher Marlowe's play about him in a Fairfax County library: "Doctor Faustus" has survived for more than four centuries, but it apparently hasn't been checked out in the past 24 months.
Dare I suggest that you consider going to Fairfax Library and CHECKING THE FREAKING BOOKS OUT IF YOU CARE SO MUCH?! Or would that be too arcane for you? Or wait... it's not your job, right? It's mine! Might I remind you that you are the patron and if you wish for the library to keep a book for the betterment of your community, you can let them know that by READING THE DAMN THING!
Sheesh.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Librarian Secret #2 - Not All Things You Get on the Internet are "Internet Sources"
I worked a couple of hours on the Reference Desk today, and several high school students came to me with their questions for their homework projects. Bless their little hearts, some of them are really confused about "sources." I remember being one of them. And yet, I didn't have nearly as many choices as these kids have.
They ask me for a "Newspaper Source" for their paper on Global Warming. I start typing into the computer. They say "NO! I need a NEWSPAPER!" I explain that old newspapers fall apart, take up space, and present a HUGE fire hazard. So thanks to the "Digital Age," we have gotten rid of all of them and we have it all on the computer now.
"But NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" they cry. "My teacher said "NO INTERNET SOURCES!" Don't you have newspapers?
*sigh*
Just because you access something over the Internet, doesn't mean that it is actually an "Internet Source." There is a phenomenon called "The Deep Web." Or perhaps there is a new catchphrase for it. The information in this Deep Web costs money. And our taxpayers pay for those resources to be available.
So... if you teach children and assign them papers, or if you are a parent who will help your children with homework one day, please explain the difference between an Internet source and a database. PLEASE! These poor kids are freaking out.
Oh, and teach them not to use so many "quotation marks." It's really "irritating" to read.
They ask me for a "Newspaper Source" for their paper on Global Warming. I start typing into the computer. They say "NO! I need a NEWSPAPER!" I explain that old newspapers fall apart, take up space, and present a HUGE fire hazard. So thanks to the "Digital Age," we have gotten rid of all of them and we have it all on the computer now.
"But NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" they cry. "My teacher said "NO INTERNET SOURCES!" Don't you have newspapers?
*sigh*
Just because you access something over the Internet, doesn't mean that it is actually an "Internet Source." There is a phenomenon called "The Deep Web." Or perhaps there is a new catchphrase for it. The information in this Deep Web costs money. And our taxpayers pay for those resources to be available.
So... if you teach children and assign them papers, or if you are a parent who will help your children with homework one day, please explain the difference between an Internet source and a database. PLEASE! These poor kids are freaking out.
Oh, and teach them not to use so many "quotation marks." It's really "irritating" to read.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Holy Monkey! Where Did November Go?!
I seriously cannot believe that we are midway through this month. And my last post was from the zoo, which seems just yesterday. Since then, we've been to High Point twice (once without the kids), the kids have both gotten nasty head colds, I have also been somewhat ill, both of our cars have broken down (mine was brakes, Chris' was the starter), I finally wrote my September and October monthly reports at work (yes, I was that far behind), Chris has helped move his mother into her new apartment (although we both wish we could do more), I've cancelled my Pampered Chef party due to too few participants, and I've written ONE blog entry -- this one.
The sad thing is... there's way more in my future. I have to take the car in next week to have the body work done from the accident last month. We are going to Maryland for Thanksgiving, which will be fun, but a long drive with two kids. I have to send out invitations for our big holiday party (not to mention plan it). I have to do all my Christmas shopping (although I did get a teensy bit done in High Point. And I'm going to take a yoga class in December to see how I like it.
Insanity.
What is it about the holidays that dictates we all run around like beheaded chickens? And if that weren't enough, I really should bake cookies and decorate the house and do all that fru-fru stuff.
I sure hope I don't explode. Sheesh.
The sad thing is... there's way more in my future. I have to take the car in next week to have the body work done from the accident last month. We are going to Maryland for Thanksgiving, which will be fun, but a long drive with two kids. I have to send out invitations for our big holiday party (not to mention plan it). I have to do all my Christmas shopping (although I did get a teensy bit done in High Point. And I'm going to take a yoga class in December to see how I like it.
Insanity.
What is it about the holidays that dictates we all run around like beheaded chickens? And if that weren't enough, I really should bake cookies and decorate the house and do all that fru-fru stuff.
I sure hope I don't explode. Sheesh.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
The Fickle Man
Okay... we all know I am crazy in love with my husband. In fact, "crazy" is an excellent word to use there. But anyway...
He does have this annoying tendancy to change his mind about things. This, by itself, isn't annoying. What is annoying (in that charming, funny way of course), is that when he changes his mind, he a) pretends he never ever felt differently (i.e. not acknowledging that he was wrong, heaven forbid) and b) he then gives me hell if I still feel the same way HE felt last week.
Example:
Chris used to always take the kids to daycare, as it was generally on his way to work. I only took them rarely. We always went a certain way. Then one day, unbeknownst to me, he switched to a different route. I did notice this by accident, when I realized he was still behind me while we were on our way one morning, and he should have turned way back. I saw where he exited instead, and realized he must have decided to take a different route.
So about a week after I noticed this (and for all I know, it was months after he had switched routes), we were taking the kids to school together for some reason. When I turned to go "the old way," he snorted and said, "I can't believe you go to daycare this way. I NEVER go this way."
Uh... dude... you TAUGHT me to go this way.
Example Two:
I brought my work laptop home with me two years ago when I went on maternity leave for Athena. It was his first look at the tools I was provided by my excellent, cushy county job. I pulled the computer from its case, and he snorted, "Gateway! What a piece of crap."
Chris is buying a laptop for his writing work now that he has had to surrender his old one to the People's Republic of Computers. He's shopping tonight and has selected the optimal laptop for his needs. Guess what brand it is?
And when I pointed out that he had once snorted at it, he said, "Well, they aren't that bad. And yours is old."
And they say WOMEN are fickle! Sheesh...
He does have this annoying tendancy to change his mind about things. This, by itself, isn't annoying. What is annoying (in that charming, funny way of course), is that when he changes his mind, he a) pretends he never ever felt differently (i.e. not acknowledging that he was wrong, heaven forbid) and b) he then gives me hell if I still feel the same way HE felt last week.
Example:
Chris used to always take the kids to daycare, as it was generally on his way to work. I only took them rarely. We always went a certain way. Then one day, unbeknownst to me, he switched to a different route. I did notice this by accident, when I realized he was still behind me while we were on our way one morning, and he should have turned way back. I saw where he exited instead, and realized he must have decided to take a different route.
So about a week after I noticed this (and for all I know, it was months after he had switched routes), we were taking the kids to school together for some reason. When I turned to go "the old way," he snorted and said, "I can't believe you go to daycare this way. I NEVER go this way."
Uh... dude... you TAUGHT me to go this way.
Example Two:
I brought my work laptop home with me two years ago when I went on maternity leave for Athena. It was his first look at the tools I was provided by my excellent, cushy county job. I pulled the computer from its case, and he snorted, "Gateway! What a piece of crap."
Chris is buying a laptop for his writing work now that he has had to surrender his old one to the People's Republic of Computers. He's shopping tonight and has selected the optimal laptop for his needs. Guess what brand it is?
And when I pointed out that he had once snorted at it, he said, "Well, they aren't that bad. And yours is old."
And they say WOMEN are fickle! Sheesh...
Friday, September 29, 2006
Vacation Mode
I am totally useless today.
I'm posting on my lunch hour, which has actually been the busiest hour of my day so far. I'm about to do two hours on desk, then sign timesheets, and then I believe I may leave early. Or I may process some gift books, just because that's about all my brain can take right now.
I had to go by Verizon to get a charger for my mobile phone, as all I can locate are my two car chargers and I won't have a car in Florida. Let me just say that the good folks at Verizon could stand with a little customer service training.
"We don't have that charger."
"Um, okay... " *blink* "Does the Crossroads store have it?"
"Well, the closest store to here is Crossroads..."
*blink* "Okay... so do they have it?"
*tippity tappity* "Yep, they have it..."
*blink* "Okay... so..." *giving up* "nevermind, what's their number?"
"What?"
"They're PHONE number... so I can call them?"
"Oh... it's 555-1212"
"Thaaaaaaanks"
Bastards.
I'm posting on my lunch hour, which has actually been the busiest hour of my day so far. I'm about to do two hours on desk, then sign timesheets, and then I believe I may leave early. Or I may process some gift books, just because that's about all my brain can take right now.
I had to go by Verizon to get a charger for my mobile phone, as all I can locate are my two car chargers and I won't have a car in Florida. Let me just say that the good folks at Verizon could stand with a little customer service training.
"We don't have that charger."
"Um, okay... " *blink* "Does the Crossroads store have it?"
"Well, the closest store to here is Crossroads..."
*blink* "Okay... so do they have it?"
*tippity tappity* "Yep, they have it..."
*blink* "Okay... so..." *giving up* "nevermind, what's their number?"
"What?"
"They're PHONE number... so I can call them?"
"Oh... it's 555-1212"
"Thaaaaaaanks"
Bastards.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Now, the Real Essentials Can Stay With You
I was just reading up on the new, relaxed security for flying since I am headed to Mouseland on Saturday, and I was relieved to see this paragraph:
Up to 4 ounces of a few items will be permitted in carry-on bags: eye drops, saline solution, nonprescription medicine and personal lubricants.
Let's read that again, shall we?!
Up to 4 ounces of a few...
No no no... not that part... read further... that last bit...
...and personal lubricants.
All right. I ask you... what in the &*%^ ^%#$# do you need a *&%# personal lubricant for in your mother&*%$# carry on bag?! I am SO not going to the lavatory on this flight.
Or the airport bathrooms.
Now I'll just look around the waiting area and wonder who is packing the K-Y.
Up to 4 ounces of a few items will be permitted in carry-on bags: eye drops, saline solution, nonprescription medicine and personal lubricants.
Let's read that again, shall we?!
Up to 4 ounces of a few...
No no no... not that part... read further... that last bit...
...and personal lubricants.
All right. I ask you... what in the &*%^ ^%#$# do you need a *&%# personal lubricant for in your mother&*%$# carry on bag?! I am SO not going to the lavatory on this flight.
Or the airport bathrooms.
Now I'll just look around the waiting area and wonder who is packing the K-Y.
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