Yeah, I love the workin' Sundays

It's not VERY often that I call (or text) Beast as I leave work and ask (demand) a drink mixed and waiting for me when I arrive home.

Today was one of those days.

I think my tolerance for Teh Stoopud was maxed out today before 1:05. We opened for bidness at 1.

The vodka-tonic Beast mixed was inside me in less that 25 minutes. That too is unusual. He makes a mean 'un.

My fingers, feet, and brain are numb. That's a Very Good Thing, especially the latter.

Humor

So I Facebooked a link to this video:

I find it hysterical, primarily because I've been to Russia and this kind of get-together is normal...until I recognized the song.

Holy cow, these people know Britney Spears?? I'm ROFLing all day thinking about it.

And then I get slapped down because it's, apparently, demeaning to old people.

WTF? It is? OK, maybe, but could this person's timing have possibly been worse? As if I'm not aware that we all get old? I think it's awesome that people "of a certain age" are rocking out and having a blast and singing...Britney-fucking-Spears.

Some people...I'm telling ya, I know it's been a rough couple of weeks for the person who smacked me up, but, yeah, of course, MY last couple of weeks has been so DAMN MUCH FUN.

I actually think it's kind of demeaning to think that old people aren't insanely goofy sometimes. And, in this case, I'd think they were pretty well lubricated too.

Morality Play at Midnight

(which sounds like one of those paperback mysteries that generally rely on puns or onomatopoeia to attract readers, like a light attracts bugs)

A couple of nights ago I woke up with cold feet--welcome to the North!--and eventually staggered out of bed to the closet to grab a pair of socks. I grabbed blindly, and heard a pair slide off the shelf onto the floor. {shrug--sigh--oh, well} When I got back to bed, they turned out to be the only pair of socks I own with toes. Did I stagger back to the closet? Nope. I sat there figuring out which foot matched which sock and slotted my toes in. And then I keeled over and went back to sleep. My clearest thought was the fear that I'd rip off my anklet when I toed off the socks later.

Moral #1: Put the winter socks away. Better idea, in fact, is to put the CHRISTMAS winter socks away well before July. There are boxes in which the socks are supposed to live, but there are always socks stacked on top of the half-full boxes.

Moral #2: Grope more carefully. The socks that fell (thinnish trouser socks) were better-suited to summer cold feet than the ones I returned to bed with.

Moral #3: Rather than going to the closet...in fact, rather than getting out of bed at all...reach into the nightstand (top drawer, in front) and snag a pair of footies that I keep there for this very purpose! These would also have caused me no worries in the anklet-ripping-off department.

Moral #4: Rather than going to the closet, turn off the overhead fan. Which the eye doctor told me not to have on at night. Which was the reason there was a chilly breeze blowing on my feet on an already-chilly night.

Mind you, I thought of NONE of these at 2 a.m. or even the next day. It was finding the trouser socks in the laundry basket yesterday that caused me to rethink my brain damage.

More screaming at God

That would be me. Screaming W.T.F.??. Because really, if being a Christian means that I have to condone this in any way whatsoever, God, I'm out. Just out, done, finished. Done. Over.

But I don't think it does. But people who twist around the "good news" this way make me so very angry. Good thing He can take it, from me and from others who are just as angry.

Blood pressure

I bought some radio show CDs for my mom some time ago and when she stopped using them, they were in good enough shape to donate to the library.

They have worked their way to the point of needing labels and cases and so forth. The person in charge of this--who, I'm sure it will come as no surprise given the title of this post, is CT--brought one over to ask something about it. When I took a look at it, I realized that my sister had written Mom's last name on the discs to ensure they were returned to Mom at the nursing home. So I said to CT, "You are going to black out the name, right?"

Sigh. "I don't know...."

WTF? Why would you leave someone's name on something when they don't own it anymore?? And it's a matter of taking a Sharpie and doing just what my sister did: writing on the surface of the printed side of the disc. I'm not asking for a label.

"There are an awful lot of them...."

So I told her fine, give them to me to scribble on because my time is ever so less valuable than hers. "I'll do it, I'll do it...." as she walks away. Sounding just like my mother, The Martyred One.

I'm telling you. I'm ready to feed her to the sharks.

Ridiculous day

• So there was the lengthy non-service Customer Service call outlined earlier with FOX (grrrrrrrrr.......)



• I have also been trying to get our account cancelled with another Big Name Company (whose boilerplate claims to be "the world’s leading source of commercial information and insight on businesses." Fair enough, except they have priced themselves out of our budget. I called last month sometime to commence this process (bargaining them down on rates). After no rate quotes were forthcoming for three weeks, I called and left a message to cancel our account and send me a confirmation email/fax/snail mail. Two weeks, three calls, and an email (today), and we're finally set. At least it was cleared up before the budget year rolled over.



• CT has turned into a canker on the souls of the entire staff. It's gotten completely out of hand. I've heard at least three other people--besides me--ask, "Is it just me, or is she even worse than usual today/this week/lately?" No, it's not just you. Or you. Or you. With the director out of town this week, and all of us on our last nerve with CT, either someone is going to start WWIII or someone's going to have to tell her to back the hell off whatever is going on that's causing her constant harping, whining and complaining. Did I mention extreme unhelpfulness? Oh, yeah, that too: she will not help anyone out for even the shortest or easiest reasons...except when doing so would be the most useless 'help' possible.



• Sparky has a tux. That took an hour. Them 'r expensive suckers, too. sigh Oh, well, it's only money, right? Supporting the economy, right? ...we still need to figure out flowers. This looks like a $300 'date,' not counting her ticket(s), dress, or hair/nail appointments. I'm reverting back to my own high school point of view: What, precisely, is the point?



• Beast got a call from one of his customers today asking for help. The customer's company burned yesterday (?I think), and he's going to have to start over from scratch. What a huge bummer, though definitely not bad news for Beast's business. We both feel awful for the guy, though, and Beast is going to ask if there is anything we can do for the community, which apparently was pretty messed up by these wildfires.



• An hour or so ago I finally got around to checking Facebook, only to find that a blogger/Fb'er/Twit friend of mine found out from her son today that his speech teacher is a complete moron. Or as a commenter wrote, concisely: "Starts with a C. Rhymes with Bundt Cake." One does not make comments about who 'should be' allowed to parent. Apparently, in spite of being a Christian Speech Teacher, she never heard the one about casting the first stone, or even the one about living in a glass house. Ppl r toopud.

And now, I'm mixing a drink for myself. It's not even a full moon!! What is going on around here??

Edited @ 9:45 p.m. to add that the first Tweet I read this morning was this one: "New idea to save libraries. Be an opinionated, trusted "filter." Hire librarians with taste. Buy only excellent books. Guarantee quality." Yeah. That's radical and new. And utopian and impossible due to tax support. Do you know how many good friends I have who think The Shack is the Best Book Evah?!

Should have known from the moment I read that how the day was going to go.

Lyrics and Revelation

Thank you, God, for Nat King Cole's voice. And thank you for inspiring these guys: words: John Turner and Geoffrey Parsons; music: Charlie Chaplin. Hey, is that the Charlie Chaplin?? Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though it's breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You'll see the sun come shining through for you

Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near
Thats the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile

That's the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smileWhile dealing with my hair this morning and replaying some conversations from yesterday at work, it dawned on me: CT's major issue, the reason she's so fucking annoying all the time, is that she's incredibly disappointed in life.

Whenever there is a discussion of why something stupid happened, or why people do things a particularly stupid way as a matter of course, CT can be counted on to pipe in with a comment to the effect of "But that's not the way it should be."

Well, no. But life is rarely as we think it should be, eh? I think she's never really figured out how to stop raging against fading chance at utopia and deal with life in practical terms. Look, there are certain things people do that are thoughtless and/or backward. They shouldn't do those things. But the fact is that they do, they have done them, and all the rest of us can do is a) bitch about it and/or b) deal with the fallout. I'm OK with bitching (if you've read the blog, that's pretty obvious), but at some point we all really need to get past that step and carry on. CT seems to be rather stuck there.

In the case of yesterday, we were talking about a method of doing something work-related that is bass-ackwards, but due to circumstances, it's kinda the way things happen. We all do this procedure this way, and most of us recognize that it's really stupid, but there's no efficient permanent workaround. (Yes, I'm being obtuse on purpose.) Occasionally, we discuss changing it, but it would be a LOT of work, so we mostly just gripe and then get on with it.

Not CT. She jumped into the discussion Box Lady and I were having--across the workroom from CT--about part of this issue. CT's introductory comment was, "But we should do [this/that/the other thing]. It shouldn't be [the way it is]." Yes, of course we should, and it shouldn't. How about taking the next 6 full weeks of your work-time to coordinate and streamline the process and then train the whole world to do that? BL and I were just trying to figure out how to make that one step a little less painful, but by all means, CT: go nuts. Fix the world. Really. Go on.

Which leads to her next problem: follow-through. As in, she has none. Several years ago she was going to 'prettify' the Large Print section so all the labels said the same thing on them. Some currently say LP, some say Large Type, some say Large Print, and some just have the author's name all alone. She did two shelves, out of about 150 total.

So, now, having come to this realization about her--that she's constantly fighting reality rather than managing it to her benefit, or at least ignoring the bad parts--I think I can get through the day without murderous rage.

Sometimes God just drops this kind of stuff in my head as a gift. So, thanks, Big Guy.

Waste

The boss asked me to be at a meeting with her this afternoon at a library about an hour from ours. Things got weird because of scheduling and then I got sick so I wan't sure what to expect when I got there.

First of all, we started over half an hour after she told me to be there, 10 minutes late according to the prescheduled starting time. At that point, I knew I was in trouble, since the handouts all pertained to something I've been using for about 5 years (maybe more). This is a component that all the directors should be using, but what was on display was a clear case of the Peter Principle among a couple of them (not mine). There's a new component that was recently added, but after 2 hours we still hadn't gotten to it.

I bailed at 3:50. Got back to Sparky's school to pick him up at 5. I will definitely submit my mileage for reimbursement, but it was a lot of time that would have been better spent sleeping.

Symptom of the problem

Beast is out of town this week. That's not a big deal for me. Not really.

Between dialysis and diabetes--among other medical issues--his dad has continuing testing and evaluating going on, and one of my charges yesterday was to deliver some stuff to the hospital lab for them to work on. As far as I was concerned, I was going to the facility where he lives, picking the stuff up from the floor nurse while he was at dialysis, taking it to the lab, and leaving. Beast thought he had everything set up.

The first hurdle went up at the front 'reception' desk of the hospital where the volunteers demanded the name of the patient and then couldn't find him in the computer. Well, he's not a patient, so duh. I went on to the outpatient area and they couldn't find any record of this test. Turns out, we were supposed to pre-register the drop off. WTF?

So, I called Beast, who called his dad for the insurance info needed to register him, Beast called the registration desk, and that situation was resolved.

I went back in the lab and the tech informed me that she couldn't complete the orders from the doctor unless FIL was there because she needed a blood draw and his height/weight.

Huh? We were told--by this lab, where Beast picked up the equipment--that all we had to do was return the equipment and results. Nothing was mentioned about brining in FIL, nothing about a blood draw, nothing about pre-registering.

Of course, I couldn't go get FIL just then because he was still hooked up to the dialysis stuff for another 45 minutes or so half an hour away . Plus we would need to cancel his ride back to his apartment. Also, I needed to pick Sparky up from school at the same time a half an hour the other direction and get him home long enough to change clothes and eat before his band concert last night.

I was pissed, needless to say. The lab tech I was working with was not the one Beast had talked to--though she came out to 'apologize' (consisting of "I'm not sure who put my business card in the bag, because I wouldn't have said that"--some apology!). The one I worked with called the nephrologist several times to clarify what was going on, but he didn't return calls for the hour I was there. I told them several times that I would be happy to go get FIL after dialysis and bring him in, but I was annoyed (ahem) that we hadn't been told about this, and it was completely balling up the rest of my schedule.

Finally, in a stroke of genius, Beast called me and said, "Wait a second: if they need a blood draw to compare the results with...it won't work for you to bring him this afternoon. He's had dialysis. His blood won't resemble ANYthing from yesterday because it's been CLEANED! Duh."

Now. Explain to me why we, laypersons who don't 'do' medicine for a living, figured this out when the lab staff, who do 'do' this for a living, did NOT.

Really? No...REALLY??

The upshot--we'll do it all over again this coming weekend, and bring FIL into the hospital for the blood draw before he goes to dialysis next Monday.

So, 90 minutes after I walked in the building for a 10-minute (AT MOST) errand, I finally left with nothing to show for it except high blood pressure and 30 minutes of burned up cell phone usage. Beast probably burned through another 20 minutes on top of that.

The kicker? When Beast was registering FIL over the phone, the registrar basically said, "I don't see anything on this order from the doctor for a blood draw." He didn't tell me that until last night, fearing I might go apeshit on the tech.

I hope to hell I never get taken to this hospital as a patient. Every time we've dealt with them (ER for Beast, admission for FIL a couple of years ago, etc.) they have fucked up something. I know that mistakes happen, but that kind of track record in medical services is not something that makes me real confident.

I'm gonna be glad to get to work today where the insanity is, at least, not life-threatening.

People, really: Libraries are NOT safe places!!

So please, please, don't just dump your kids there and assume everything will be fine. Usually things go smoothly, but sometimes they don't.

Those of you who have been around awhile may remember this incident of inappropriate library behavior.

At least that incident was at least more or less consensual. The one today was--allegedly--not. Again, a 19-year-old was arrested, and again a minor was involved (not the same one as last time). This particular minor used to attend storytime with my son. This kid's mother just died last summer, and apparently the kid didn't want to call the police because Dad is drinking a lot more than he used to and isn't handling things well.

My heart hurts. And I'm very, very angry.

I won!

The National Lottery Board
Home Office:L## 1NL Liverpool,
P. O. Box ####, UNITED KINGDOM
(Customer Services)
Reference Number: UK/######/68
Batch Number: 074/05/####
Ticket Number: ##4756005451##.

WINNING NOTIFICATION:

We happily announce to you the draw (#1377) of the UK NATIONAL LOTTERY, online Sweepstakes International program held on Wed. 4th March, 2009. Your e-mail address attached to e-ticket number: ##475600545 1## with Serial number ####/02 drew the lucky (lotto) numbers:

03 21 25 32 37 46

Bonus ball (#15)which subsequently won you the lottery in the 2nd category i.e match 6 plus bonus. You have therefore been approved to claim a total sum of £540,000(Five hundred and forty thousand pounds sterling) in cash credited to file KTU/####118308/03. This is from a total cash prize of £3,240,000 shared amongst the (6) lucky winners in this category i.e Match 6 plus bonus.

All participants for the online version were selected randomly from the World Wide Websites through computer draw system and extracted from over 100,000 unions, associations, and corporate bodies that are listed online.

Your prize award has been insured in your name and is ready for claims. To begin your claims therefore, you are advised to expeditiously contact our licensed and accredited claims agent for Overseas Lottery Winners within a period of 21 days (date of this email inclusive) for the processing of your winnings and remittance to your designated bank account after all statutory obligations have been satisfactorily dispensed with.

This promotion takes place Bi-weekly. Please note that your lucky winning number falls within our European booklet representative office in Europe as indicated in your play coupon. In view of this, your £540.000(Five hundred and forty thousand pounds sterling) would be released to you by any of our payment offices in Europe.

Please be informed that claims not processed within the stipulated period may be forfeited to the pool without further notice.

Our European agent will immediately commence the process to facilitate the release of your funds as soon as you contact her. For security reasons, you are advised to keep your winning information confidential till your claims is processed and your prize remitted to you in whatever manner you deem fit. This is part of our precautionary measure to avoid double claiming and unwarranted abuse of this program. Please be warned.

To file for claim, fill out the information required in the verification form and establish contact via e-mail between the hours of 8.00am - 7.30pm on Monday through Saturday and contact our overseas claims unit with the information below:

OVERSEAS CLAIMS UNIT
United Kingdom Lottery Fiduciary
Contact Person: Mr. John W---, email:

sec##...@yahoo.com.hk

VERIFICATION FORM

1.FULL NAMES:__________________________________
2.ADDRESS:_____________________________________
_______________________________________________
3.SEX:__________
4.AGE:__________
5.MARITAL STATUS:___________________
6.OCCUPATION:_______________________
7.E-MAIL ADDRESS:_____________________________
8.TELEPHONE NUMBER:__________________________
9.LOTTO NUMBER:____________________ B. DRAW NUMBER:______________
10.TICKET NUMBER:___________________
11.SERIAL NUMBER:__________________
12.AMOUNT WON:______________________
13.BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF COMPANY/INDIVIDUAL__________________________________________
14. COUNTRY________________________________

CLAIMANT SIGNATORY DECLARATION
====================================

I,......................................HEREBY DECLARE THAT I HAVE NEVER RECIEVED ANY FORM OF SETTLEMENT FROM THE UK. NATIONAL LOTTERY NOR ANY MEMBER OF MY FAMILY. I, THEREFORE, DECLARE THAT THE UK. NATIONAL LOTTERY ACTS ON MY BEHALF IN THE PROCESSING AND TRANSFER OF MY PRIZE AS INSTRUCTED BY ME.
==========================================================================

You can go to our online result site to confirm your winnings and also for verification of your winning numbers: www.national-l0ttery.c0.^k/pl@yer/p/res^lts/res^lts.d0

Goodluck from me and members of staff of the UK NATIONAL LOTTERY.

Yours faithfully,

Mrs Kathleen W--, for

Dr. Carl A. M--.
Online coordinator for UK NATIONAL LOTTERY
Sweepstakes International Program.
Phone :+44- ####066047
+44- ####065627

Or not. I highlighted the bits that made me suspicious, but the punctuation and grammar are just wrong in places. Then there's the fact that I never buy lottery tickets. I hid those numbers and names just in case I won. ha ha ha [I actually hid them so that no one gets jammed up with these people.]

Drama

Sparky stayed after school yesterday to lift weights. He's doing that to prepare for football tryouts. Whatever. Meanwhile, I had to do a presentation for a Girl Scout troop at work so we knew he'd have to wait a bit when he finished.

He called just as I started the presentation saying he couldn't find his wallet. There was no way I could stop what I was doing, so I told him he'd have to work it out with his coach.

No dice. They looked everywhere. We finally decided that it must have fallen out when he changed pants and landed unnoticed on the floor where someone picked it up. He was devastated. Angry, upset, crying, yelling...yeah. Fun night.

Fast forward to this morning. I went with him to school to talk to the administrators. The vice principal took a report and said she'd investigate. I asked about the police and she sort of treated it as if I wanted to make an insurance claim (?!). Whatever again. I went to the cops directly from school and reported the theft.

Long story short, the officer went over and interviewed several students and eventually the wallet was recovered, minus Sparky's driving permit and yearbook receipt. He got all the cash and gift cards and library card back, though. Turns out the doofus hadn't actually closed his locker after changing; the other kid saw the wallet in the open locker and snagged it.

So what did I learn? Go to the cops first. Involve the school second. There is at least one cop in our town that is hysterically funny, and just a good guy. [He 'yelled' at Sparky for having such awful handwriting in the statement he wrote up last night.]

So at some point this week, we have to face down the licensing people and get a replacement permit. And I'll talk to the yearbook people at school about the situation--he's supposed to present the receipt to pick up his book in May. Since I volunteer with the people coordinating the yearbook, it's kinda not gonna be a problem.

We have not been told the name of the student who did this, but he has been suspended for a week (I think) and I'm sure the grapevine will pass along his name to Sparky PDQ. I feel bad for his parents, who had to stand there and watch the cop search their son's dirty laundry today. I'm very grateful it wasn't us on that side of the equation. Hopefully, Sparky learned a few lessons from this. For one thing, maybe carrying $100+ in gift cards in your wallet is kind of a stupid idea. Especially to school! d'oh

And it turned out all right, for us. Silver linings.

Four hours of work

(a.k.a. what is NOT going on my weekly report to the boss about my time usage)

• Kicked two feet of snow out of the way of the distance (outdoor) bookdrop so that I could open and empty it. They didn't plow the lane to drive up to it, and piled snow in front of the door. Idiots. I hate the bookdrop more than any other part of my job. And what did I retrieve? Three of our items and 10 donated trashy paperbacks.
• Found out that the labels we use to indicate that an item is new had a typo. The whole batch is ruined. Nice.
• Realized I forgot my lunch at home.
• Got drawn into a rant by CT. Sigh.
• Was attacked by my eye. Called doctor for a referral to my eye doctor. Called my eye doctor for appointment.
• Ate a Tootsie Roll
• Another staff member asked me about an email I forwarded to her yesterday about filling holds from other libraries. I explained: politics. Turf. Grr.
• Looked for new labels to replace the stupid ones. Considered redesigning. Decided against it.
• General email stuff.
• Ranted to Beast via Meebo about my eye and other stuff.
• Realized my eyes feel just fine again right now (well, right then).
• Redid most of a document I worked on last week because I'd done it all backwards. My boss checked it over and was still confused, because I'd REDONE part of it backwards. But the colors are pretty. (and it's fixed now)
• Talked to Box Lady about Large Print books.
• Forwarded document to our system tech, and waited for the stupid questions to ensue.
• Cataloged 8 DVDs. One of them is The Jazz Singer. It arrived with about 15 postcard-type things, 4 or 5 booklets that reprint a bunch of period reviews and such, and a reproduction of a telegram. In other words, a bunch of JUNK. Grumbled to people about that.
• Ate another Tootsie Roll.
• Put in Rx eyedrops. Sting, a little itchiness, but generally still fine.
• Received reply from tech. Only one really retarded question. Since he cc'd to my boss, she came down from her office and dared me to call him a dork in my reply. I said I would. We answered his other questions, and I (naturally) explained the obvious to him without using the words "dork" "asshat" "blind" "fool" or "kill." Am quite proud of myself, and I'm getting an AWESOME-funny new password so it's ok. So far he hasn't answered me back. But he will. I've complete faith in him. [Update 3:20--yup, I was right, and now my blood pressure is sky high. He is a fucktard.]
• Ate another Tootsie Roll (so much for that "not eating junk" thing...)
• Discussed the budget cuts that must be made this year, and the rest of the impact the dismal economy is causing. Havoc, much? Oh, it's only just begun, my friends.
• Ranted briefly at Beast some more.
• General email. One of the lists I'm on is having a long discussion under the subject "turkey parthenogenesis." Cracked up. Catalogers are weird.
• Realized I haven't eaten lunch.
• Realized I'm cold. My hands are ice blocks as I type this. Quite unusual--the library is normally warm in the winter.

I'm going to lunch. Maybe I'll catalog 8 more things this afternoon. That'll help. I've got about 250 things to go before I'm all caught up. ha ha ha ha ha {choke}

{thump} Head meets wall

Mood: amused
Hair: braided
Eyes: dry and itchy
Listening to: silence (and guinea pig squeaks)(and the fridge humming)

So.

Sparky had homework over his break from school. Nothing major, just a little research, finding some resources for a paper to be done at a later date. He did the research on the Saturday between the holidays, and created his bibliography for the teacher and saved it.

This morning, as part of the launch sequence, I asked him if he had the printout. "Oh, I never printed it. Thanks for reminding me!" {eyeroll} He accessed the document and tried to print it and then shut the laptop. I didn't hear the printer start so I asked fairly innocuously, "All set?"

"No. I forgot; Dad hasn't set up this computer to print so it won't go."

And that's it. We have three other computers that ARE ready to print. WTF! "You could email it to yourself on one of the others and print it from there," says I, fairly calmly. "Are you seriously just going to quit trying without even asking for help?"

I logged off the laptop I was using and went to get ready to leave while he took care of this. He came upstairs 10 minutes later to tell me it didn't work because the settings aren't set up to access email on the new computer. Huh? He accesses his email all the time from that one! Turns out, he was in the word processor trying to send the document. I assumed he knew I meant to go into Gmail and attach the document to an email to himself. Sigh.

On the good-ish side, he found his thumb drive and saved it there. Did he print it from another computer then?

No. (of course not!)

"I'll do it at school, from one of the computers there."

OK, yeah. He'd just got through telling me that he couldn't take both his band instruments today because he wouldn't have enough time to drop them in the bandroom before classes began. Which would have been no problem if he would have accepted my freely given offer of a ride to school at the very beginning of the morning's conversation. I'll be headed there anyway to volunteer for a couple of hours, so it's not like it would have been a big deal.

He doesn't have a study hall, so I really don't know when he'll have time to do this printing. Especially since the doc isn't a Word doc, and that's what the school uses.

Plan ahead much, kid?

What a DORK.

---

No word today. I'm too stunned by the stupid.

Breastfeeding

So, there's this insane controversy on Facebook that has erupted into the mainstream media. It seems that Facebook has yanked photos that were posted on profiles because those photos show women breastfeeding babies. This somehow violates their policies about ... uh? ... nudity or something. Or it is upsetting to ... someone. I thought it was just crazy, uneducated, sexually frustrated individuals who--in this relatively new millenia--were freaked out by public breastfeeding and photos of it, but I've just read a blog post by someone whom I respect which completely floored me.

I started a lengthy ocmment on his--note pronoun for irony purposes--website, but it got very soapboxish. So I'm posting the comment here instead. The comment I did leave was brief, courteous, and (I hope) non-inflammatory. For contextual purposes, one of the arguments he makes is quoted below, because I refer to it in my response:

It doesn’t have to be a matter of being a prude; imagine the woman who has lost a baby, or the woman who has suffered breast cancer. While I can’t imagine being in either position, I can imagine that seeing the image of a newborn breastfeeding might be a little torturous for any woman who has gone through either situation.

My heated reply:

For me, I think the issue is that you can see plenty of breasts on Fb, but the only ones being banned are the ones doing what they are made to do. So, Fb will let a photo of a woman or girl in a VERY low-cut top stay (unless someone reports it), but a photo that shows less breast but has a baby feeding is pulled. Yeah. That's perfectly sensible.

Perhaps if people (ahem, men) saw breasts doing what they are designed for they'd stop being so freakin' wound up about seeing breasts exhibited as artwork.

Have you seen any of the photos these women posted? I don't think there are any that are even remotely sexual in nature, not that I've looked at them all. Nor have I seen any in which what you call "the whole breast" is visible. And frankly, I can randomly pull up several Fb profiles with WAY more revealing photos than these. Do I care? No, because I don't look at, much less 'friend', people who post those sorts of pictures. That way I don't have to look at their retardo exhibitionism.

However, I have a friend who has an amazing photo of herself feeding her baby: it's a candid and one of the best pictures of her I've seen. I don't think she's on Fb, but I'm sure no one could be offended by it.

Women have been fighting this uphill battle for more than 'just' this year. I was called all sorts of names on the occasions when I nursed my son when he was a baby 16 years ago. My sisters, ditto, 20-30 years ago. We weren't flaunting, we had blankets over our shoulders, and yet people (ahem, men mostly) were horribly rude about it. Had we parading through the room wearing a low-cut blouse, I doubt they'd have complained at all, though.

I do have a relative who recently gave birth to a stillborn baby. The merest sight of babies is painful. Yes, seeing a photo of a breastfeeding baby is painful, but so is seeing happy parents playing with their newborn. This particular argument is straight-up bizarre. Seeing older men sometimes upsets me because my father is dead; should photos of old men be banned from Fb? Come on.

As for those people (not just women) suffering from, or recovering from, breast cancer...do you really think this is any more painful than seeing ads for Victoria's Secret? Really? Should those be banned? (well, actually...I'd be OK with that...)

Speaking as a mom, and a feminist, I will tell you that babies get hungry on their own schedule. To a degree you can plan ahead, but sometimes they will start fussing when you are in a public place. I would much prefer finding a quiet corner and a comfortable chair over sitting on a toilet or the floor in a public restroom. If someone took a photo of me that was a good picture, I'd cherish it.

I do think that perhaps you're being very disingenous. To the best of my knowledge you've never had a baby in your life full-time much less had the opportunity to breastfeed. For that I'm very sorry. I think you're viewpoint might change were you a little closer to the situation in your own life.

In other words, you know not whereof you speak, so perhaps you ought to take it down a notch.

OK, yeah, I'm cranky. Blame David Caruso and today's CSI:Miami marathon.

Link

Small Town

Headline in today's paper:

Boy smuggled friend's urine

So much for any developing appetite I had for dinner.

[and, may I suggest to anyone who is considering using this dumb idea to pass a drug test, that doing this in a COURTHOUSE should mean a quadrupled sentence due to excessive dumbitude]

Belated

Mood: Awake (-ish)
Hair: Yanked back in a braid
Eyes: So far, so good
Listening to: Beast, in the fridge, making noise...dropping things, etc.

I meant to post last night, but my brain was just not up to cruising through the highs and lows of the day. The short version:

The place where Beast's dad was going to be moving--next Friday--pulled the plug on his acceptance. Apparently he's too sick, or not sick enough, for them to manage. It makes no sense; dialysis is not that uncommon among the elderly and he'd be doing it at a center, not at home...whatever. It's just weird that an elder-care facility would refuse someone for needing elder care--and then tell us that the nearest place who can accommodate us is an hour a way.

Beast spent the early afternoon calling back some places that were on the B team, and found a spot for FIL at a place that's further away (by 10 minutes, not an hour!), has medical staff on site more often, and has no issues with dialysis, and which has space available for him to move in next Friday. The timing is still the same, but the location and amenities are different. Thank goodness I hadn't bought anything yet for FIL's windows or kitchen cupboards!

Beast's blood pressure may never return to normal however, and the original location has shot themselves in the foot bigtime over this. So much for me volunteering there, or feeling generally charitable when they do something that makes the news. They should go hang for all I care now.

Last night was pretty quiet. We watched the debate...and it was, for the first time in a long time, an actual debate, not a one-sided duck-and-dive. I think they were actually thinking for themselves. Both of them. Shocking.

And here's a bit from Buddy, whom I was holding while Sparky cleaned his cage:

y5t hfrtl;v.tt;;;;;;;;;;;c l.8ewlceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, e88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888 888888888
8888888888888888888888888 888888888r
[[[[[[[;[;p;pppppppppppppu ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,hhhy gm

---

Urban Word:

SEP: Someone Else's Problem

It is rare for me to think this way, but I'm learning to let go of what I can't control and allow it to be SEP.

I think I missed the memo

Mood: OK
Hair: Keeping my neck VERY warm tonight
Eyes: Sore, but feeling better than they have in awhile
Listening to: Some random football game Beast turned on (the NFL network): Colts/Vikes. I dunno.

Where was it posted? Because it really does seem like "Let's Be As Dumb As Possible Week."

1. Saturday and Sunday were crazy-busy at work, due to the computers being psycho.
2. Then there was the email I posted yesterday.
3. Sarah Palin--every day something new. I can't even bear to read about her. This does NOT make me anti-woman. It makes me pro-humanity (and moose)!
4. People monkeying with their meds, because they are so much smarter than doctors--and then wondering why they are having medical problems.
5. The same person who wrote yesterday's email sent ANOTHER stupid one to the wrong person...long story.

[Edited: The corker today were a couple of emails, which I excerpted and edited, and published here. I have taken them down because…well, I didn’t ask for permission and the last thing I need is for her to stumble across them and “out” me. If you didn’t see the post, I will be happy to forward it to you if you email me at P*s*a*l*m*2*3 @gmail. Leave out the asterisks. Or IM me in the meebo window.

Trust me: it’s boring librarian stuff but it totally infuriated me.]


I can't wait till tomorrow. The stupidity just keeps growing.

---

Urban Word:

phuket thailand: a word [sic] used to express absolute astonishment!

Phuket Thailand, life is pissing me off this week!

This is...just...incredible

Just found this in an email from a coworker which she sent to several of us; she is a reference librarian:
I assume Hurricane Ike is named after the former president? Think what would have happened if it would have been named after the current one!While I tend to agree that the idea of naming anything after Bush is farcical and probably will end up as a disaster, she apparently doesn't realize that "Ike" is a first name (hello, Ike Turner?) nor that the storms are not named for individuals.

Do y'all see why there are days when I want to put my face through a wall?

---

Urban Word:

27/4: 27 seconds a day, 4 days a week, i.e. quite rare

Identifying the person who put this in an email will be easier if I note that her ideal work plan is 27/4. She even includes Sundays in that work-week!

What an awful day!

Work today was pretty much useless. Lots of rain brought out lots of people needing all sorts of stuff at the library. Our Tr!b carrier triple bagged the paper...then slid it across concrete and shredded all three bags, which meant the paper was 75% soaked upon retrieval. (Investors Business Daily was a complete loss: totally soggy and melting into itself.) The computers were moving so slowly by 10 that we were essentially working in reverse, and the staff functions were slower than the public YouTube and MySpace viewing. Residents of a group home arrived in the middle of that mess. I like these guys because they are almost always 100% up-front about what they need, but they are needy...and we don't have any books on dentistry. Or teeth. The printers weren't printing right, either. And I didn't feel good for the last half of the day: I was up in the middle of the night last night being friendly with porcelain, but felt OK this morning. By early afternoon, I was ready to head home, except I couldn't because we were short-staffed and barely hanging on. Oh, and people were registering to vote in droves today for some reason--I'm not complaining about this, really, just the timing.

Highlight of the day: wrangling three 13-year-olds out of the building at closing, one of the staff said something about knowing one of them along with his parents. Another kid pipes up, "You know my family? I doubt it. Go on, what's my last name!?" I burst into a guffaw--he was wearing a baseball shirt...with his last name printed on it. Goomba!!

I work tomorrow as well. Gaah.

Meanwhile, Beast has spent the day doing all the laundry and sorting through his parents' paperwork trying to formulate a way of organizing it. I just asked him if he feels as if he's crested the hill and can see the lay of the land, and he says he doesn't even know what the hill looks like. His back is, at least, a little better.

Sparky continues to plug through his stack of homework assigned for this weekend.

I think I've figured out (part of) my eye problem: computers. So this is about all I'm doing tonight online.

---

Urban Word:

poopular: Adj. Popular on the outside, poopy on the inside.

The more I see and read about Sarah Palin the more I think she personifies the Ultimate Poopular PTA Bitch. Sorry, no vote here; I never did like you ladies (term used intentionally--you have no idea how much I loathe that word).