The Games

My mother was running around the living room, looking for her purse and fussing because she was late. I took glance around the room, and Gavin looked up from his morning episode of Thomas the Tank Engine. "Purse?" he said, and scrambled up. He fetched the case to his Thomas DVDs, pulled off the cover, opened it up, and pointed to a picture of a green train engine. "Purse!" he said helpfully, offering it to my mother. The engine's name was Percy. I must now live with the fact that my 2-year old can't say his own name, but can identify the cast of Thomas and Friends. (In my defense, he also knows the names of all the characters in his collection of award-winning bedtime books.)


In other Gavin news, he has officially started talking in sentences. Why, just yesterday, he said, "Ow! Mama hit baby in the head!" (it was an accident!)

Strolling through the week

I spent Wednesday morning interviewing the woman who handles the video collection at our library. The politics involved in wrangling funds and support from the administration was as fascinating as it was terrifying. At this point, I'm not confidant about my ability to stand up to opposition in the professional field, which will be inevitable as a librarian. I can only trust that I will survive my green years and turn into a tough old stick that can bludgeon people into agreeing with me.

After lunch at BaLe, I battled the Honlulu traffic and found a parking spot only two blocks away from the public library. 20 minutes later, holding the only copy of Dance on my Grave on the island, I argued and feigned stupidity until the parking attendant let me back into the structure without paying another fee (ok, I actually was too stupid to figure out the fee schedule and she finally wanted to get rid of me). By the time class rolled around, I had been locked in the computer lab for 4 hours doing homework. I was twitchy and exhausted. The student presentation for the evening was delivered by a woman with a slow, soothing voice that made me sleepy and then repeatedly jabbed me awake with the word "liberry". Yuri passed me a note. Gee, I hope I can work at a LIE-BERRY when I grow up. I wish I had pencils to jam in my ears.

This weekend kicks off the Highland Games. There will be dancing, music, celtic stuff, and fish & chips. Too bad I'll be working.