misinformation

No spring break after all, only dentist appointments and hours of silent cataloging. I managed to cut the backlog in half without all the activity that normally interrupts my work day. Tossed some boxes of unwanted donations in the teacher's lounge as freebies. Starting to get a handle on the mountain of books that accumulated over the year before my arrival. Working on an Easter poster for the library. I have been thinking of using my illustration skills to make advocacy/literacy posters and graphics to try to sell to the ALA for library use. Hmm, we will see if I can manage not to make my literacy bunny too cutesy have it come out looking wise and funky. 

I have started listening to NPR at work. I would listen to audio books, but we don't have a tape player, of all things. There's something for my collection development lists. I feel very smart taping barcodes onto books while listening to people rant about social issues on the radio. I finished reading "how i live now", last year's Printz award winner, and it was wonderful. I thought about it while I was looking through the ALA conference schedule, wishing I could justify going for the weekend and attend the "so you want to be a book reviewer" lecture. I wonder if I could score free books for my library while developing a reputation as a reviewer for library journals... something to look into.

I spent some of my royalties on a really cool and enormous hand-carved mirror from Pier 1. I stood staring lovingly at it for 20 minutes before Mike said to just get it. I have a hard time buying big things for myself. I can see it hanging in our own little tin-roof shack some day. I guess I have come to terms with Hawaii, and for the first time in my life the thought of moving to the mainland makes me sad. We may have to live in a tin-roof shack for the cost of a mansion in Texas, but it comes with the weather and the misty mountains.

pooptacular

The poop incident broke the vacuum. The maintenance men, driven into the library by the rain, needed dirt to use on their test runs of the new bagless vacuums (bagless, I am sure, for the swift and efficient collection of forensic evidence), so I helpfully dumped the entire contents of my splenda stash on the floor. I located the spot on the rug where the poop had been and laughed when I saw it was next to the Captain Underpants books. Fitting.

So, how's work going?

I like my job. I get to do fun stuff at my job (make flyers, create displays, get the kids excited about awesome books, buy books, play with tape and stickers) and boring stuff at my job (shelf 100 books a day, write budget reports, catalog teacher resources, kick the copier into working). And like a newly discovered body of water of undetermined gullible depths, people keep sticking their toes in me. Tricky balance, being trained to be helpful and needing to stand up to people.

In order to come to the library during recess, the kids have to sign in and out so we know what time they got here and what time they left. But this is a school for dyslexic children, and the results are creative, optimistic, and completely useless.

Fun reference questions:

Are Gods real?
Are you a Christian?
Where are the books on spells - like, recipes and how to do them?
If girls have equal rights, can I chop off his head?
How do you give birth?
Where are all the books on axolotls?
Did Nazis go to church?

Fluffer nutter sandwich and Amy Tan book over lunch break. Happy librarian on Hit By Truck Day (5 classes down, 2 to go!).

Indulge and repent

Gordon Biersch, Mardi Gras. Mike showed his club card and we got to sit down ahead of everyone else, ha. I picked garlic fries and crispy artichoke hearts off the plates while Mike and my mom enjoyed their beers. Mike was happy, right at home in his favorite place. "We can't move anywhere without a Gordon Biersch. If we're moving to Seattle, we have to see their Gordon Biersch first to make sure it's as good as this one," he said.

Gavin and I went out into the holiday crowd at Aloha Tower when we were stuffed. We filled a bag with mixed candy at the chocolate shop, and Gavin held the paper bag in his fist while I carried him on my hip. A jazz band was playing, old people tottered to the music, military guys stalked in predatory herds, grumpy parents shuffled their kids through the crowd. All at once the parade started, with pounding and clanking, whistles and hoots. Gavin pressed his fist, still clutching the candy bag, up against his ear as the parade-goers danced by. A woman in a sparkling bikini gave him a strand of beads. He pulled it off indignantly when she turned away and handed it to me. I bounced him on my hip and danced along with the crowd back down to Gordon Biersch. They yelled and crashed through the brewery, and I dropped back down into my seat in front of Mike. He raised an eyebrow at my beads, and I fluttered my eyelashes innocently at him. As the parade made its way through the open patio and the noise faded around the building, I ushered our party-goers to the car and drove home.

And now it is Lent. We subscribe to Lent, more as a novelty than a religious event. We swore off chocolate. I broadened my sacrifice to include all caffeine. Mike tried to swear off getting fat, but I argued that the chocolate was a root cause.

The night was warm, so I kicked off my pajama pants and then spent the entire night dreaming that had no pants on. As I was having murder-mystery dreams, this was not great.