76 Trombones Led It. Not Really.

Happy Late Memorial Day!

Did you picnic? Swim? Frolic? Barbeque? Sunburn? *Gasp* - all of the above?

I hope whatever you did, it was awesome and with awesome people. I love Memorial Day - it's the kickoff to summer! Not to mention a great day to honor the men and women who have served and currently serve our country in the military. THANK YOU!

I had a fabulous time walking in our local Memorial Day parade with a theater group, passing out flyers advertising free Shakespeare in the Park performances. I have loved volunteering with this local group for the last few years, and I was excited to spread the word. Passing out flyers to hundreds of people quickly is quite a whirlwind: "Support the arts!" "Free performances!" "Shakespeare in the Park!" "Free!" "Date night!" "Free!"

And did I mention it's free?

Of course, walking in the parade always makes me feel a bit like a celebrity. That's right, I think to myself. They're all here to see me. Struttin' down the street with my shades on, passing out literature. The children love me! No big deal, though.

I've walked in past years with my church or with the library and it's always such a good time. It would have been BETTER if all those riding LAWNmowers hadn't cut us off and we got so far behind the marching band I couldn't hear the festive parade music...but whatever. We were in the parade!

And it was super hot. Seriously, I was saturated. I'd like to apologize to all the old people in lawn chairs I may have dripped on, hovering over their socks and sandals with my sweaty self. And that hike through the streets is not leisurely, let me tell you! You look up and suddenly the truck with the rest of the candy and flyers is aaaalll the way up the hill and you have got to pick up your feet, slowpoke!

It felt completely lovely to enjoy a fabulous barbeque afterwards, not moving and sucking down fluids. What a great way to spend Memorial Day!

What did YOU do?

Oh, now watch this, just for fun.

iWant to Scream

The other day I was working with the iPad for over an hour.

Frustrating. I had to-

walk around the library several times to pick up the best Wi-Fi signal, since it's not that great back in the office.

type in a crazy-long password what seemed like a million times before finally changing it to something shorter.

change multiple settings since someone had messed them up.

uninstall an app. try and reinstall it (sounds simpler than it ended up being).

wait. and wait. and wait.

use Google. a lot.
Why does technology make me want to "lash out irrationally"? (Bonus points if you know where that comes from...)

I get so mad! The rest of the library staff was laughing at me as I paced and talked to myself. Yes, there was also chocolate involved; not gonna lie.
Why is technology so frustrating? I usually keep a cool head. I don't get obviously angry or feel like throwing things unless I'm fighting with technology (or with someone I really love. Go figure.)

Maybe it's because I feel so helpless. Those times when my computer has had viruses or other issues, I've broken down in tears because I didn't know what else to try and I hated leaving problems unresolved.

Okay, pity party over. I troubleshooted and figured out what to do to the iPad (not chuck it out the window), and I think I learned a few things.

One thing being, make sure you have Google and chocolate readily available when dealing with a technological crisis.

Ew. Ew. Ew ew ew EW EW EW GET IT!

I'm going to call them "phantom bug itches."

You know, when you feel like there's a bug crawling on you and you look and nothing's there?

I liken it to stories you hear about people losing limbs and feeling like they still itch in lost places...?

Bad example? Probably.

Anyway, this time of year when all the bugs come creeping out from their winter hiding spots, I remember that this is what I don't appreciate about spring.

It's just, suddenly there are random ants and spiders and centipedes strutting around thinking that they own the place. Crawling across the table bold as brass, just trusting that I won't squash them where they stand! Ha!

Actually, they're probably right. By the time I summon the courage, or a napkin, they have usually already vanished into an invisible crevice. And that's even worse, because they're still at large.

So anyway, seeing all these bugs around and occasionally having one crawl on me makes me feel them on appendages even when there's nothing there. Ugh, I hate it! It makes me want to flap my hands and kick up my feet, as my voice goes up several octaves.

Honestly, sometimes I'm such a girl.

(I googled "bug on arm" to find a good picture for this post, and proceeded to almost lose my cookies at the pictures that popped up. So no picture today, friends.)

Speling and gramer, Its importent

Not gonna lie; I lose a smidge of respect for people who make obvious spelling and grammatical errors.

Does this make me a grammar nazi? Or simply a lover of words who hates to see them misused..?

I blame typing. And texting. And firing off words without thinking or pausing or checking. At least read your comment over again before posting. At least remember fifth grade English. At least only use words you can spell. And define.

I do hold people who should know better to higher standards. Especially businesses and reputable websites. Adults who should really understand correct usage of their, they're, and there. Seriously, it's not that difficult! Not caring is just lazy. Why should I care what people say if they're that sloppy in their professional writing?

It might seem simple, but it makes a big difference to me. Precise, correct writing prevents the reader from being bogged down with distractions. If I look at a flyer and the first thing I see is "it's" instead of "its," I'm mentally rolling my eyes as I glance through the rest of the words.

Why do skills like spelling and grammar have to be part of a lost art? Why do people who care about such skills get labeled as stuck-up?



Think about it.

Grown-Up

Sometimes I'll be talking with someone and I'll sort of have an out-of-body experience.

I'm talking to an adult.

I am an adult.

I'm having an adult conversation.

Like, the kind my parents have. Like the kind they always had when I was bored and wanted to go home and play Barbies.

Whoa, did I just make a corny joke about the weather? Why am I talking about "kids these days"? Surely everyone will know I'm just a twelve-year-old in a twenty-three-year-old's body as my mouth (without my brain's approval) has now changed the subject to... wait, grocery store sales? Who am I?

Is this just me? When I was younger, I thought everyone older than me knew what they were doing. Now, I keep catching myself being surprised that I'm doing grown-up things like making small-talk with strangers. I thought things would be different...

But I sort of have the feeling that I won't be ready to be sixty, either.

Mom Day

Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there!

I'm very grateful to my mom for her years of love, protection, wisdom, creativity, advice, help, and all-around awesomeness.

In celebration of moms, I had to look up this video again. It's a classic; enjoy!

May I Live With You?

So sometimes I'll be out shopping or whatever, and I'll hear other people's conversations.

I listen, because I can't help it. And because I love it.

And people are always talking about what they're going to do next. Like, when they're done shopping.

And when it's a mom with her kids, a lot of the time she will be pumping them up for doing something fun after shopping.

Do you know where I'm going with this?

Yes, I get jealous of what the kids get to do after shopping.

"Guess what, kids? We're going for pizza!"
"We're going to the movies!"
"I'm going to get us all ice cream!"

Excuse me? Some of us are trying to shop!

Also, will you please adopt me?

Xtreme Library Workout

Get up!

That's right - I'm talking to you! Put down your bag of chips and get up! It's time to sweat, tone, and strengthen...in the librarian workout!

Now, I'm sure some of you are thinking that librarians are pretty sedentary. Not so. At MY library, you get a workout.

So let's do this! Take off your cardigan, put your glasses on top of your head, and let's do the librarian workout:

1. The Book Squat: Of course the book you need to shelve is on the bottom shelf. It seems like they all are, sometimes. No matter, use those glutes to stick that book right where it belongs, according to the dewey decimal system. And one and two and three and four!

2. The Literary Lunge: Whether you're carrying a large stack of DVDs or arranging material on the holds shelf, you are bound to lose your balance. In such occasions, simply lunge to grab falling items. This is a library, so you can't let too many things hit the ground at once. And don't forget to follow-through!

3. The 10-Shelf Dash: Pick up your pace, swing those elbows, and stride through the library. Don't forget to walk by the gang of unruly teenagers "doing homework," the sketchy guy at the computers, and the kid eyeing the spinning rack of periodicals. There's nothing like a brisk walk around the joint to remind everyone that you've got your eye on things.

4. The Chair Hover: Picture this: you just helped a patron at the desk and are now heading back to the office to sit down and continue working on that program flyer. But just before you hit the seat, another patron steps up to the desk. (How do they time it like that?) Engage your lower half and pick yourself back up before your butt even TOUCHES that seat.

5. The Cruisin' Cart: Do your library muscles still need a little help, even after hefting all those books? Give the book cart a push! After you've loaded it, of course. My dream is to one day be able to ride a cart through the library, but that's unfulfilled currently. Want to know how many times I've thought about doing that? 75. Oh - 76.

Hope you enjoyed a taste of the active life of a librarian. Don't forget to stretch!

Pardon My Limbs

I have long legs.

Sometimes, I feel like everywhere I try to sit I have to worry about folding my legs up somewhere out of the way. I need my leg room.

At the movie theater, I love to put my feet up on the chair in front of me. Don't judge; it's not like I'm scuffing my shoes all over it. My ankles just rest on the top, feet crossed. Oh, it's so comfortable to have my legs stretched out!

It's always tricky, though, strategically picking the perfect spot to sit so no one will sit in front of me and thwart my plans.

This brings me to last night. I went with some friends to see The Avengers and at first all was perfect. No one was in front of me and I found the perfect position to relax.

Then, things started deteriorating. The empty seat on the right side of me was taken over by some random guy with a beard who totally stole my arm rest. He just edged his way onto it and I decided it wasn't worth it to have our arms touching... no thank you!

So, bitter about that but still relieved my feet were up, I settled down and started watching the previews. Before a couple came and sat, that's right, directly in front of me. Bummer. I mean, there were other seats in the place, people! Not my fault you came rolling in late!

I started getting antsy. This was going to be a long movie, and this girl needed to put her giraffe legs somewhere! Luckily, my understanding friend sitting on the other side of me felt my pain, and she shifted so I could put my feet up diagonally.

I had to adjust a couple times throughout the film as my legs got sore, but all in all I was satisfied.

Oh, and the movie was good too.

T-Shirt Critique

So, you know that awkward moment when you stare at people's torsos to read what they have written on their shirts?

And you try not to stare, but you really need to read it because you can't help being curious. Because maybe you're the type of person who reads everything they see.

And besides, it's not your fault if people wear those kinds of shirts. Especially ones that have tiny writing. Apparently they just want attention.

The worst is reading a shirt and then realizing it's some kind of insult to you, the reader. You're just reading, is that a crime? It's not your fault you have to squint and bob and weave.

Or, after all that work of trying to stare at a person's chest without them realizing it and the shirt isn't even that interesting. It's just a private band joke or something.

What....does....it...say...?

Look -
look away.

Look -
look away.

Oh, forget it.

It's More of an Art Form, Really.

Yesterday I spent some time reading shelves.

How much time? Not sure. Time has no meaning "in the stacks".

In a public library, books get touched a lot. Shuffled around. Picked up and stuck back in the wrong spot. And hey, that's okay. Sort of. We want people to be using the books; that's what they're there for. Unfortunately, we also want books to be in their proper place. Do you know what it's like to look up a book on a computer and have it say it's on the shelf, then take the patron to the shelf and not be able to find it? Awkward. We have to be able to find the books in their proper spots.

That's where shelf reading comes in.

Shelf reading is reading the spine label of each book to make sure everything is in order. Fiction books are arranged in alphabetical order by the author's last name. Nonfiction books are arranged according to the dewey decimal system.

So you stand there and examine each book. Yes, it's tedious. But it's also gratifying. Some of those nonfiction sections just get so messed up. And once a few are out of order, more books are shelved out of order.

I get into a kind of rhythm there, reading and straightening and becoming hypnotized with the numbers. No time to think or worry about life, just time to process the numbers. It's a beautiful thing.

And when I can look back and see the rows of books that I've correctly arranged, it gives me a great feeling of satisfaction. Sure, it will all just get messed up again. But for a brief time, it's all right.

Perfect.