Know It All

Somehow, my gene pool is rampant with people who like to expound on their knowledge about random things. Maybe it's not just my gene pool; maybe every family is like this. It makes me crazy, so I know two things from that: 1) I am probably overly sensitive about people in general who are self-proclaimed fonts of knowledge; and 2) I probably do the same thing more than I'd like to think I do.

On the "overly sensitive" front, I posted something today on Twitter about people getting a clue on Facebook. I was being snarky, and I posted on Twitter specifically because the person to whom I was alluding on Fb doesn't follow me on Twitter. Just venting, right?

Then a colleague who is 97.3% annoying at all times came back on Twitter with a comment to the effect that "Fb sux" (paraphrase) followed by the 'enlightening' comment that he only uses Fb because some people don't know how to upload photos anywhere else. Niiiiice--we're all just morons, those of us who use Facebook. It's not even remotely possible that people upload photos to 16 other sites and don't tell him for any one of many reasons. Oh, wait. I do that: Fb, Snapfish, Flickr, etc. Is there a need for him to know this? Not really. He just assumes...a lot.

The silver lining is that I'm not anywhere near as annoyed with the original clueless Facebook thing; the rest of the thundercloud is that I want to snag a specific ponytail in a woodchipper and turn up the power level.

One of these days, I'm going to turn to him--either physically (in a meeting) or by email--and seriously ask him how he got to be so much smarter than anyone else on earth. The unfortunate thing is that He. Will. Answer. The. Question.

AAARGGHHHHHHH!!!!

[But really people: if you want to say something about someone's status on Facebook, would you PLEASE leave the comment on--or even NEAR!--the status to which you are responding; it's not that complicated!]

OMFG

Sparky and I are working our way through Star Trek: The Next Generation. We've gotten about midway through Season Two to an episode called The Dauphin. One of the 'new life forms' that appears at the beginning is played by an actress called Paddi Edwards. Here's her photo:

Any of you who read me often enough probably remember me talking about someone I call CT.

Welcome to my world: this actress--in this getup and role--looks and acts a LOT like CT! Especially around the mouth, less so around her eyes. But if you've seen the ep...well, I'll just say that the resemblance tends to increase in certain ways over the course of things.

Consider me officially freaked out.

Youngest (Rant Alert)

This will come as no surprise to anyone who is the youngest sibling--and possibly anyone else towards the bottom of the list in multi-child families.

Being the youngest makes us (me) a little thin-skinned about being treated like a baby. Yes, sometimes we regress and sometimes we can be spoiled little kids, not to mention somewhat lighter-hearted and flaky than Oldests and even Middles.

The issue is that I've always been WAAAAY younger than everyone in my family (of birth); not just a little younger, WAAAAY younger. And when I was 10, it was appropriate to treat me like a kid.

With four older sibs of my own I have done my best over the years to 'grow up' and be myself. I have also worked (mostly) for and with people older than me. Most of the time, I defer. Most of the time, I'm OK with being the younger/dumber one. Mostly I understand that "Oldests" and my elders may actually have some information about life that I haven't yet accrued.

I can't tell you how tired I am becoming of (some of) the older-than-me Boomers.

And I really. really. really. do. not. need. anymore people in my life who treat me like their kid sister. Cuz,

1. I'm 45, thus patently NOT a kid [even if I cry too often for some peoples' comfort];



2. None of my siblings are around here, and for good reason. [why do you think they are all far away? Hmmm, let's let that percolate for awhile, eh?];



3. Even my sibs don't treat me like this (often) anymore [although I know someone who might disagree with this rather vehemently].



4. I'm not an idiot.

So yeah, please, if you don't mind, I'd like to spend some of my adult, workplace years at least attempting to impersonate a grown-up. Here's a list for you if you aren't clear on things:

1. If I'm crying, it's not necessarily your fault, and I'm not doing it to upset you. Usually. huh I understand that there may have been a disagreement that preceded the crying, but, truly, it is not all about YOU. I'm aware of that. You can't "make me" cry. So stop assuming ... well, everything, frankly.



2. When I'm being treated like a child, it's quite likely that my first response is going to be childish. I may snap at you. I may bark. That's my issue and I am trying to deal with it. I will almost always be the first to apologize for doing so, but jeez, just once in awhile would it kill you to go first?!



3. Don't ignore me.
   Don't talk over me.
   Don't patronize me and/or be condescending.
   Don't assume I can't handle the realities of life.
   Don't keep secrets from me, and gossip around me without including me.
   Don't tell me you were "just kidding" when you were being a bitch or a prick, because that is what precedes "Can't you take a joke??", at least in my head.
   In short, don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining (ty, Judge Judy).



4. Examine your behavior once in awhile. You are NOT the Omphalos for anyone but your own beautiful self. Accept appropriate accolades gracefully but don't assume you 'deserve' them.



5. For most of the world: I'm not your sister. Don't assume I need a big brother/big sister to get be through life. I don't. Really. I'm good. Go (the fuck) away already!



6. Did I mention apologize first sometimes? Oh, yeah, I did.

I've always liked people younger than me better, overall. I used to worry that it was because I could lord it over them--there may be some of that--but young people at least have the courtesy of not treating me like a baby. [I'm sure that will come when I reach old age! I'm going to be quite a cranky old person if that happens, though.]

Like Aretha, I'm just asking for a little respect.

Take me outta the toaster--I'm burnt

O
          M
                    F
                             G
                                      !!!!

CT has to go away. Consider the bidding war open: suggestions, comments, requests for proposals, etc. Anything goes. Know, however, that there is a line forming in-house for kneecapping and nose-punching.

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.

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.

Pride

In our church, there are a few older couples. Of course, eh? One in particular has been in the forefront of our minds lately. The wife--I'll call her Dite--is a fireplug and a dynamo, always on the move (though considerably slower than before) and involved in lots of things, from helping out at the schools to working with the homeless to volunteering at the hospital. It was in the latter capacity that she was working a couple of weeks ago, in the gift shop, when she suddenly fainted. She's NOT a fainter, by the way. On the way down, she apparently hit her head on the counter and ended up in ICU for a couple of nights. She's being really coy about the medical stuff (typical for someone in her 80s) so no one is completely sure what the full story is, but she's been having a great deal of trouble with dizziness since then.

Another friend at church contacted us earlier this week. She had been at Dite and Bert's house and noticed that they have no stair rail on one side of the staircase in the house. She asked if Beast and a few others would get together and go take care of that. They live in a split level, so there are actually two staircases next to each other and it's the railing between them that's missing. So, if Dite lost her balance and tipped that direction, she'd actually fall down two flights.

Pretty basic fix, though. Except Bert is extraordinarily prideful. This couple has not had no garage door for at least 15 years--just plastic taped over the opening--in spite of several (and I mean dozens) of offers to fix it or help him fix it. They park outside. Dite herself has been unwilling to host gatherings in her home, and I'm beginning to guess that perhaps there are other repairs that need doing and she's embarrassed about them. It's not that Bert sits around--he's as active as she is in various things, but he's not capable physically anymore and refuses to accept help.

So three big boys, Beast included, appeared on his doorstep last night and assessed the stair rail situation. This is a life-safety issue, not an embarrassment thing, and they are G O I N G to F I X this.

I have strongly suggested Beast never to behave this way. I included a couple of other men of our church in that strong suggestion, for all the good it will do.

And the starkest contrast? They are approximately the same age as my mom, who has spun into yet another dramatic health moment.

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}

Cheer

Mood: Good
Hair: Flatter than flat, and dry
Eyes: Itchy. here we go again....
Listening to: The house. It's VERY quiet.

I opened Borders today. Hee.

I also grocery-shopped in anticipation of what they've been saying is going to be a GIANT STORM. I always use the self-check lanes at Meijer's because it's faster. They have hired some people do help bag on those lanes, which is nice. The guy working mine didn't do a great job, but it did save me some time. On the way out the door, a voice behind me said, "Uh-oh. You dropped your cheese."

People are nice.

---

WordSpy Word:

murketing: n. A form or marketing where the product or service is not mentioned or shown.

Obviously, I'm not murketing Meijer's. They have their issues, but I do like the store near us.

Ten Things I'd Like to Say to Assorted People

One per person. I swiped this idea from Allison, and decided to do it here instead of the memes blog...

1. It. Really. Is. NOT. All. About. You.


2. Thank you.


3. One conversation at a time, please.


4. If you can't say anything positive, then just shut up.


5. Could you lighten up on the perfume and only wear a half bottle every day?


6. If you're sick, go home.


7. Perhaps you should buy a dog so you have someone to talk to.


8. Being around you makes me smile, and you have no idea how much I need that.


9. Please slow down; you're making me dizzy.


10. You are the most annoying person I know. Go away.

See why I can't actually say most of these? Most of them are to people I should just not talk to at all.

We Are One

(Love this song)
As you go through life you'll see
There is so much that we
Don't understand

And the only thing we know
Is things don't always go
The way we planned

[But you'll see every day]
[That we'll never turn away]
When it seems all your dreams come undone

[We will stand by your side]
[Filled with hope and filled with pride]
We are more than we are
We are one

If there's so much I must be
Can I still just be me
The way I am?

Can I trust in my own heart
Or am I just one part
Of some big plan?

[Even those who are gone]
[Are with us as we go on]
Your journey has only begun

[Tears of pain, tears of joy]
[One thing nothing can destroy]
Is our pride, deep inside
We are one

[We are one, you and I]
[We are like the earth and sky]
One family under the sun

[All the wisdom to lead]
[All the courage that you need]
You will find when you see
We are one

--Angelique Kidjo

YouTubed here:

Until we meet

About ten years ago, I met a man I'll call "Mark." He was the brother of a good friend and had just moved back to the area with his wife and 3-year-old son. Nice-looking guy, talkative, somewhat charming, rather opinionated, and an ordained minister who was currently not working in the field.

He was also one of the most challenging people I've ever known. He put PsychoBoss firmly in her place as a second-rate nightmare. There are names, pigeon-holes, to describe him which I won't use here. Even at the time I saw God throwing down the gauntlet with Mark: Here, deal with THIS!

The lesson was, I can't. I certainly couldn't have "Mark" in my life and keep my own emotional see-saw stable; the injection of him into any situation caused more difficulty and strife than anyone could reasonably handle without more skills than I had...or have now.

There was a series of other situations going on at the same time carefully set up by Someone to teach me this lesson over and over and over, but "Mark" was the Red Flag Waving at the top of the pile. I was in our pastor's office often in that period, in tears, broken, wondering why I couldn't fix stuff, make people understand, solve problems, etc. And the answer was, I can't. I can't without a great deal of external help. The further answer was that I don't have to; not everything is my problem to solve. Walk away.

Walk
Away

It's not easy to walk away when something breaks. I was raised to go find a broom and start cleaning up. "Don't just stand there, DO something!" My mantra with "Mark" eventually became, when I was not reacting emotionally to his games, "Don't just do something, STAND THERE!" And then walk away.

And so, I am. Again. For different reasons, and much sooner.

There is a relationship which was damaged several months ago by thoughtlessness. I've alluded to it online multiple times, obliquely. There was a further extraordinary appeal. It was further damaged by my chickenshittedness about dealing with the situation directly with the individual. But the damage caused me to open my eyes, and I looked around to find that I was only the latest collateral damage in the wake; there were other floaters. I started to dog paddle to the outer reaches of the wake where I have spent several months observing.

I don't like what I've seen. I don't like what seeing this is doing to me. I don't like that I've got a fish-eye lens on this person all the time, even when I claim irrelevance.

So I'm walking away. It takes epoxy to repair some things and I only have one side of the formula. Without the other agent, there's just no point.

I'm grateful for the good times, aware of my debts, but trying very hard not to be ashamed to admit that I just don't have the skills to deal with this situation. And so, I'll walk on without this person, at least for now.

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
                                        For Thine is the Kingdom
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
                                                    Life is very long
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
                                        For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

                                                      -- from "The Hollow Men" by T.S. Eliot

---

What happened to "Mark"? Eventually--after several years of negative influence--he was formally requested by our church's leaders to leave our congregation. His wife and children left him and he degenerated both mentally and physically; he died about four years ago. I'm sure God has enfolded him into the Kingdom and "Mark" is whole and happy now in ways he could never achieve here. His sister and I remain friends.

(blank)

Mood: The usual
Hair: Funky pony
Eyes: Fine
Listening to: Beast typing on the other laptop, and MNF

That's me: blank. I sat here for two minutes staring at the screen trying to come up with a title for this post.

I woke up this morning about 3:30 with a scratchy throat. Time for the autumn cold, I guess. Whee. Never did get back to sleep all the way.

The best I can do for content is to say that it's Spirit Week (i.e. Homecoming) for Sparky. We drove 40 minutes in rush hour traffic looking for colored, washable hairspray for Wednesday. Yep. I spent about as much on gas driving to the nearest pop-up costume store as I did for the two cans of silver-colored dust.

FIL is more-or-less situated in his apartment, and seems to be loving it so far.

Beast has been wandering around for half an hour saying he's lost his mind. It's just never good when the reliable person is doing that!

Summation: I'm tired. Too tired to get excited about some of the Stupid People Tricks on display today (excluding family, although Sparky's on kind of a roll tonight).

---

WordSpy Word:

stay-at-work mom: n. A mother who returns to work soon after giving birth. Also: stay-at-work mother.

I am proud to say that, with the exception of about 18 months, I have always been a stay-at-work mom, following in my own mother's footsteps--though, granted, she was not able to go back to work till I was four, in 1967. Times change.

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!

Must be the moon

Mood: Fair
Hair: Probably fine, but flat
Eyes: OK right now
Listening to: Mike Rowe autopsying a shark

Publishers are insane. Or perhaps it's the fault of Cataloging-in-Publication institutions. I'm not sure. An hour of my day today was spent discussing by email what date to use as the publication date in a bib record: copyright or pre-publication (i.e., guess) date. Just precisely HOW can you say a book was "published" in 2007, but not copyrighted until 2008? 'Course, we had a stellar example show up in the middle of this discussion of exactly the reverse: a series of children's books "published" in 2008, but copyrighted in 2006.

In the interest of being informative, if you want to open a public library in an area already served by public libraries...there are some rules. You can't just plonk out a handwritten sign in front of any old crap-ass building and call yourself a library. "Let's put on a show!" is only cute if you're a kid. Grow up.

When OCLC/Connexion doesn't work, it's a problem. Last week I actually had pared two full carts of books down to one full cart. I'm not back up to two full carts again, since Friday. And Connexion picked this morning to crash.

Oh, and I live in an area that makes rural areas and small towns look bad. A sequel to "Deliverance" could be filmed here, but they'd have to import smarter and more attractive rubes.

I had a headache most of the day, too.

Some days it doesn't pay to get up outta bed.

---

Urban Word:

HTF: How the fuck.

One wonders, some days when surveying the panoply of humankind, HTF we ever could consider ourselves The Most Intelligent Species on Earth.

Petty Is as Petty Does (Notes to Self)

Mood: Sleepy
Hair: It's clean but the braid is ... in disarray
Eyes: Itchy
Listening to: NASCAR

Annoyance: People who assume that working in a library means the employees have to behave like Glinda the Good Witch all the time, or who want my job so they can "read all day."

Annoyance management: Seethe. Smile and roll eyes internally. Discreetly point out the lunatic across the room talking to him/herself. Ask if they'd rather clean the cart full of {filth of questionable origin}-encrusted picture books, or plunge the nearly-overflowing toilet in the children's room. Bite tongue. Remember not to say stupid things about other people's jobs in the future.

---

Annoyance: Allergy meds that cause unpleasant secondary symptoms.

Annoyance management: Stay away from allergens as much as possible. Take alternating cycles of acetaminophen and ibuprofen. Switch meds entirely. Move to a polar region.

---

Annoyance: Finding out that someone you admire can be unbearably holier-than-thou not to mention a bit passive-aggressive and thin-skinned about her own misbehavior.

Annoyance management: Point out unfairness of their behavior. Remove them from pedestal on which you placed them. Forgive them. Bite tongue. Remember not to behave that way in future.

---

Annoyance: Being the only person to show up at a celebratory event to which everyone at work was invited.

Annoyance management: Appreciate and fully enjoy the event. Be extra glad I showed up. Keep mouth shut at work unless someone else there mentions it.

---

Annoyance: Teenaged offspring and his behavior.

Annoyance management: Remember that the cooler we play it now, the better the relationship will be in the future. Enforce the rules, but be willing to renegotiate some of them. Bite tongue often.

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Annoyance: Sudden lack of internet access at home.

Annoyance management: Do all the tricks we already know that usually fix the problem. Call provider. Do the new tricks they suggest. Try one more possibility after getting off the phone with them. Congratulate the brilliant person who thought of the last possibility that fixes the problem. Call provider and crow.

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Summing up:
Note how many of these involve saying nothing and biting tongue. Do that more.

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Urban Word:

Q.E.D.: A mathematician's way of saying "I win"

In social interaction, creating a Q.E.D. situation tends to mean it has not been a successful interaction.

Why I Love the Public (pt. ...uh...4,000,000,000?)

The phone at the Reference Desk rang last night at 8:43, just as I was about to make the "we're closing, go home you manky dolts!" annoucement.

"Is there...do you know how...{pause} OK, are you busy? Can you just come up to the circ desk for a sec?" It's Thursday night just following a wing-dinger of a thunderstorm--of course it's not busy. I debate making the announcement and then decide that whatever's going on up front can be handled quickly and THEN I'll chuck people out.

So I arrived up front. As I round the corner to the circ desk, I realize with that I was far too optimistic. My current least-favorite Thursday night regular is standing there, Mr. I've-Been-Hacked-on-the-Library's-Computers. Dude has hit several of us up about people getting his password and logging onto his account and using his time!!! Oh the horror of that! He was so demanding about it the first time--several months ago--that we went ahead and created a new library card so he could start over fresh because he insisted that changing his password on the old card wouldn't stop people from continuing to hack in.

Mind you, all they seemed to be doing thus far was using his time. To clarify, everyone gets an hour a day, which is shown on the screen when you first log in. If you've already been in and checked your email once at 10 a.m. and come back at 3, the timer will say something like "34 minutes" indicating that you have used 26 minutes already.

So about two months ago, dude comes FLYING up to me while I'm helping someone at the Ref Desk: "Someone has hacked my account! They've used my time. I just got here and it's telling me I've already used up part of my hour! I haven't..." Since I was helping someone else at the time, I told him to go log off for now and I'll come figure it out when I've finished with the people ahead of him in line. He was huffy, but I got to him quickly. Of course, he is (always) using the computer farthest away from the Ref Desk--and the rest of humanity--so it's a hike. When he logs back on, he points to the timer and says, "SEE?? SEEE???????? It says I only have 27 minutes left! But I haven't been here ALL DAY!" I look at the time, check my watch, and say, "Well, it is a little confusing, yes, but the fact is that we close in about 27 minutes, so that's all the time you have left today...because the computer will automatically shut down then."

"BUT SOMEONE USED MY TIME!!!" I go through the mechanics of what I had just said several more times and he eventually settled down with some grumbling.

However. Last night. OMG.

He logged on. Someone had used his time again. (same reason, duh) Plus, when he got into the start screen, there were two email accounts open on the desktop. Now THIS is weird: when people log off, the hard drive is supposed to be wiped clean of every-damn-thing they've been doing. He wrote down the email addresses and then proceeded on to use the internet. And logged out.

And then came to the circ desk to get a new library card. Because SOMEONE HAS HACKED INTO HIS ACCOUNT! [Pay attention--you'll love this next part.] See, those two people who left their email accounts logged in? They were hacking him. From those email accounts. Yeah. Because, somehow they knew he would be the next person in, and they could sit at another computer somewhere and log into their email and...what? This is not a party line on a phone where everyone can talk to everyone through any receiver they've left off the hook (i.e. any computer they've logged into their email with). Is it?

For the love of Pete.

So I told him that a) no one had used his time, it was just counting down till closing; b) he needs to tell us immediately when he sees the computer doing something he thinks is bad--like having other people's email still open after he logs in!; c) what you are suggesting is technically highly improbable (hell, it could be possible--how do I know?).

Then I told him again.

And again. And again. I even, at one point, say, "Look, you have to come get us as soon as you see something weird. After all, you don't go to the doctor a week after you stop throwing up to find out what made you sick last week, right?"

Luckily, he had to "leave for work."

Once he left, I made the #)@$*% Closing Announcement. Then I talked to ILL Tyrant--who had called me for help--and she said she had basically gone through the whole thing with him and he wasn't listening. Then Sout’ Sider said the whole hot mess had started with him demanding a new library card because (all together now) his account had been hacked!!

Dude is terminally nutso. He doesn't seem to be capable of getting unstuck from this one subject. But yet, he will sit down at a potentially buggy computer and open his own email and type in who-knows-how-many other passwords? And he will continually use a computer that he thinks has messed him up innumerable times rather than using any one of the other 30 in the building?

So, I have a list of stuff from last night to go over with the boss this morning:

-- Mr. I've-Been-Hacked-on-the-Library's-Computers
-- the non-functional Line 3 that went out during the storm last night
-- the missing emergency light that used to be at the Ref Desk that is MIA now
-- the fact that the pages don't have time to shelve and there are probably close to 100 abandoned books lying all over the nonfiction area since last Thursday when I cleaned all the tables off PLUS the cartload of stuff that's been sitting since the beginning of June next to the Ref Desk
....

Hee.

This is why she gets paid the big bucks.

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Urban Word:

combat nap: That 5-10 minute nap that you have to take when your body is completely exhausted and your mind is over stressed. Happens if you want it or not, and you usually wake up feeling like you've had a full night's rest.

I really could've used a combat nap last night at about 8:45.

In my head

So, randomness:

• If someone greets you for the first time at 1:00 pm by saying "Good morning" wouldn't you assume they were joking? I did. He wasn't.



• George Carlin was a genius. HBO is replaying a shitload of his 'concerts' tonight, and I think tomorrow night. In the one they are showing right now, Carlin is just a little more...special...than normal. He's either high or slightly wasted. Pretty funny--he keeps cracking himself up. And Sparky has now been introduced to the Seven Words, a couple of which he didn't (doesn't) know definitions for, and of course his father and I are laughing too hard to tell him.
  
  
• I have pretty hair for the conference. Cuz it matters that much to me (not). OK, for real? I have pretty hair for the READ posters we're busy making at work. My close-up is tomorrow. Maybe.
  
  
• Twice in the last month at family restaurants in town we have been seated next to or near tables of men with the foulest, and loudest, mouths. Now, y'all know I don't have a problem with swearing as a way of emphasizing. But...when literally every 4th or 5th word is "fuck" at 107 decibels, I dunno, it's just really annoying.
  You know who was most upset? Sparky. He could barely eat tonight.
  
  
• If someone needs help from someone else, wouldn't it behoove them to be somewhat...I dunno...humble? Respectful? As opposed to insolent, rude, and pushy? Because, y'know, if I were asking a favor, or looking for information, I think I'd want to not piss off the person to whom I was talking.
  
  
• Our Session meeting was last night. There are 12 people, plus the moderator, who are supposed to be there. We had a total of 6 including the moderator. There were 4 non-Session members of the church who came to present information. It was pretty weird; we're not really sure it was a legal meeting, or rather whether anything we decided was legal.

And now my brain is empty.

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Urban Word:

handy: European slang for cellular telephone

When my sister lived in Germany 7 years ago, she found that there were some interesting slang terms. We never did figure out where "handy" came from, really, but it's certainly more fun than "mobile" or "cell phone."

Poetry Month

Meditatio
by Ezra Pound

When I carefully consider the curious habits of dogs
I am compelled to conclude
That man is the superior animal.

When I consider the curious habits of man
I confess, my friend, I am puzzled.

To all my dog-lovin' friends: please give your loved ones a scritch from me today.

Update

The people I work with?

The loudest ones? The "squeaky wheels" if you will?

They S U C K.

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Urban Word for today:

office ghost: An employee who maintains a position at a company despite the fact that all of his [her] job duties have been reassigned to other employees. This could be by the ghost's own design or due to restructuring within the department.

Office Ghosts are particularly effective when they have a big title that comes with an assistant, and a boss in another location because no one is really sure what they do all day, but they still have the ability to step up and take credit once a project is completed.

Schedule Nazi's picture is next to the words "Office Ghost" in the dictionary.

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But she's not the problem here at work today.

Yet. She hasn't even arrived. I'm sure she'll live right down to my expectations of today however. She usually does.