Full Range of Emotions

I could not have been on a more cury, up and down roller coster of emotions as I have been the past 26 days. Sadness. Anger. Desperation. Pain. Happiness. Elation. Down Cast. My mom and my sister took my father to the hospital emergency room on October 1st and he's been in the hospital ever since. There's too much to describe what's happened to my dad in the past month to explain everything, but I think the phrase, "we almost lost him," covers the severity of his stay.

A gentleman called for my dad yesterday. He asked where he was. "He's in the hospital," I replied very manner of factly.

"He's still there!?" he replied.

Oh how much I wanted to say, "Yes he most certainly his. Coming close to death can keep you in the hospital for a long time."

The first week and half was the worst. His two daughter's and his wife were at his side 24/7 at the hospital. Having the night shift was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because the hospital has finally calmed down. The lights are dim and it's easier to get the nurses attention if you need something. A curse because it was my shift that dad seemed to get worse, and to gain some sleep during the day was impossible because all his friends and family would call for an update.

And oh how much I wanted to say, "Stop calling! I'm trying to sleep! Dad had only 46% in his blood, he's agitated, can't sleep and can't breathe well. I'm tired and fucking scared! Now let me cry my eyes out and go to sleep."

I'm the first to admit that I can't write too well when I'm emotional. Give me some time.

The road I walk

The road is long.
The road is old.
Step by step my feet take me.
No direction to go but forward.

My head is heavy.
My heart is tired.
I look up to see forever, and
Know this is the road I walk.

Homesick

I'm feeling so homesick right now that the feeling seems to dwell in my bones.

There are errands I need to run before it's dark and I don't have the gumption to do them. I don't want to be on the streets of Ohio. It seems so unpleasant to me. The green grass up here doesn't compare to the beauty of Kentucky. There are no rock fences to admire. No rolling hills of green with scattered trees to sooth me. I don't have the chance to watch horses gallop across the land. No barns to come across. I hear sirens and car horns on these streets, where in Kentucky I would hear nature. There's nothing like driving down a country road with the windows open and sense nature traveling thru the car.

Once I was in a car riding along the Scenic Bypass in Central Kentucky with all the windows open. It was Fall. A stray leaf came in from the passenger side window, traveled across in front of the driver and out the driver's window. I'd like to think the leaf said, "hello."

I miss being around my family. I'm amazed at how much strength they provide me. Being up here, without them, I feel really weak. Not physically, but still weak.

I had the strong urge to talk with Memaw. It was the sewing that brought the urge. I feel close to Memaw when I begin to sew, and at the same time, sad. The quilts she gave me while growing up are my prized possessions. I'm learning to sew now that she's gone. While finishing up my first project, a lap quilt, I wanted to call her up and ask, "am I doing this correctly?" Her phone number is still in my cell phone. I don't have the heart to delete it. My mom gave me some of Memaw's leftover fabric she never used. I'll tell you, the colors are not the prettiest in the world, but I look at them and think, "I can't waste them. I can't make a mistake with them. They were Memaw's." I want to make several quilts from them, but I'm afraid of making too many errors with them that they end up as waste.

I unfolded one the pieces of fabric, held it up to my nose, took a deep breath and I was transported to Memaw's house. I saw her sitting in her favorite chair. I felt her giving me a hug. I felt her hug. I saw her smile. I heard her laugh. I heard her say, "you're going to move back down here and take care of me. Aren't you."

I wondered how long that scent would last. How much would remain once I washed it? It doesn't need to be washed. Does it?

Someone explain to me...

Someone explain to me why after a month of being smoke-free, I picked up a cigarette and smoked it to completion. I smoked a couple in fact. I blame it on stress. They say exercise is good to handle stress, but when it's midnight, your mind is racing with "what if's" and you can't sleep, exercise doesn't seem to be the answer.

Vacation gave me the rest I needed. Sleep, read, and clean. (Cleaning doesn't sound like vacation but I enjoyed straightening the basement with all it's clutter. That doesn't mean I'm coming to your house to do the same though.) I come back to Ohio to realize I have an interview for a job back in Kentucky. I have one day to prepare and work around my schedule for this interview. In my mind I'm thinking, "Is this a courtesy interview? Do they have someone in mind for the job?" The phone call for the interview came while I was away and they were in a hurry to fill the position. I made the call Monday morning, and I had to interview the next day or I was out of luck. That's a two to two and one half hour trip one way for an hour interview. Needless to say, I was completely tired when I came back to Ohio last night.

I have another job interview set for this Friday. This one is for my boss's job. He's moving on to higher and better, and calmer places. Me and a co-worker are both applying. We work side-by-side many times. It feels odd to go up against her for the job. At first she wasn't thinking about applying but she changed her mind when she say the salary. She's married with a baby on the way. The money will help her family. As soon as I found out she was vying for the job I felt defeated. I compare us and feel that the "power's that be" will chose her over me. Shit. I hate feeling like that.

So, one job would take me back to Kentucky, other will keep me in Ohio - the land of useless nuts. (The Buckeye tree is the official Ohio tree. You can't do squat with the nuts from the tree. Therefore, Ohioans are useless nuts.) Let's do a comparison of the jobs...

Kentucky job....

• I'm back in my home state of Kentucky (+)
• I'll be closer to my family (+)
• It's in a rural area (+/-)
• The salary isn't as high as the Ohio position (-)
• I won't be working in a public library setting (+/-)
• I'm going to feel clueless in the job (-) But, I still think I can do it.
• I already have two years of retirement with the system I would be working for (+)
• I'll have my own office (+)

Ohio job....

• Higher salary than the Kentucky job (+)
• I'll still be in Ohio (-)
• I'll still be away from my family (-)
• I'll remain near my friends I've made here (-)
• The position would give me supervisory experience (+)
• I'll be in a public library setting (+/-)
• I'll have my own office (+)
• I'll be supervising people I've worked side-by-side with (+/-)

One thing about the Kentucky job, I feel my parents have very high hopes that I get the job. I know my parents are proud of me no matter if I get the job or not, but I know how much they would like me back in the state.

Vacation Summary #2

I slept in the basement at home. It was the coolest place in the house, and also the messiest. The basement is our family's attic. Once upon a time, it was fairly clean. Considering much of what is downstairs is my stuff. When I moved into a small efficeincy apartment during graduate school I had to store all unnecessary items at my parents. That was four years ago. Since then I've graduated, moved to my sisters place, obtained a full-time job, moved to Ohio an into a bigger apartment and much of my belongings are still there. I swear I'm trying to discard many of the items. If my dad would let me. He's a back rat, and what can I say, I am my father's daughter. I hold onto things. But not last week. I did my best to either give items away, or throw them away. It's very hard to do that when my dad will "save" the items I'm trying to discard. I was 50% successful.

At least the basement is somewhat organized. (The librarian in me came out.) Dad uses discarded cardboard boxes to organize everything. Overtime, they just don't hold out at our place. A couple trips to Wal-Mart and I organized many "saved" items into see-thru shelving units and rubbermaid tubs. It looks so much better, but you can barely tell I made a dent in the basement.

Vacation Summary #1

Instead of writing a daily summary of my vacation days, I've decided to write summaries covering the week.

I spent much of the week laying in bed and reading. Ten books, and one dictionary were bought during vacation. I read four of them and started reading three others. I mentioned I traveled to the local Border's bookstore which is 30 -35 miles away from home. I wanted to make a second trip towards the end of the week, but a trip to the movies with my mom near a local Empire Bookstore saved that trip. I want to ask my mom "Are you sure?" anytime she mentions going to a bookstore with me. I love to look around. And look around. And look around. I don't want my mom waiting on me. I should not have worried because after my tour of the bookstore I found her comfortably sitting in a chair reading a book.

I've come to hate paying full price for a book. I've frequented too many used books stores to feel any need to buy a title at Barnes and Noble or Borders. That's not to say I won't. If the books stands out and it say's "you must buy me," there's a good chance I will. But hope is not lost, I usually have a coupon with me. Such was the case earlier in the week at Borders when I bought The Oxford History of Medieval Europe / George Holmes. Sounds like boring reading, but I was in the mood for history. My mom looked at the title, gave a small eye roll and said, "I like for my books to have some sex in it." Don't worry mom, I've got those books too. In fact, I read a couple those over the week.

I know there are some people question me as to why I buy books. I'm a librarian. I have books at my disposal everyday. Well, sometimes I'm slow to read. I renew books 5 or 6 times (and I don't have to pay late fees). After a while I think, "Just buy the damn book." I usually get around to reading it.

Vacation Day #2

Vacation day number two was mostly spent reading. No pressure to do anything else but relax and read. Oh, and I spent time at two different book stores. There's a used paperback bookstore in town which isn't too bad. I've been going to this store since I was about five years old. Granted, then I was standing beside my mom waiting for her to finish searching for books. Now, it's my turn to be as leisurely as I wish in the store. The other bookstore was the local Border's bookstore which is approximately 35 miles away. I'm willing to drive the miles for a broader selection. I was in the mood for some world history.

Appropriately timed, I came across the book Hiroshima by John Hersey. August 6th was the 61st anniversary of the atomic bomb landing in Hiroshima. The book gives an account of six individuals living in Hiroshima when the bomb dropped. It's a very sad and eye opening account of these individuals who lived to tell their story about the bombing. Growing up, I heard about the atomic bomb and Hiroshima. I knew it was devastating, but reading about it, first hand accounts, it's tragic.

Hiroshima is a small book, approximately 150 pages but it packs a punch. After finishing this, I settled down with a trashy romance book. That one is finished, so now I'm choosing between some Mark Twain, Jane Austen, and Medieval history. But then if my brain feels overwhelmed, I have more trashy romance novels waiting for me.

Vacation Day 1 1/2

I'm back in my hometown vacationing with my parents. We're at really happening place. It's called home, and I do not want to be anywhere else. Rest. Rest. Rest. That's all I ask. And so far, that's what I'm getting. Mom and I briefly considered getting away but we had the same conclusion, "No."

Here's a log and some thoughts of being home...

1. I'm just waiting to run into someone from high school. It always happens, and usually I'm not looking forward to it. This shouldn't be a surprise to everyone. I didn't attend my high school reunion.
2. Mom and I went to Bob Evan for dinner and she presented me with the, "Don't you remember her?" I wish my parents wouldn't do that to me. I can't remember everyone from my past. It doesn't matter that I'm in my hometown. A lady who worked with my mom just before her retirement came to our table to say hi. Mom gave her a hug, they turned to me and mom asked the question, "Don't you remember her?" I looked a my mom straight in the eye and said, "Oh please don't do this to me." She was supposedly my fifth grade teacher. I can tell you for a fact that she wasn't my teacher. She very well could have been my sister's fifth grade teacher, but she wasn't mine. She seems to think I was one of her students. I wasn't.
3. Until coming home, I had not acquired one mosquito bite. Not one. That's a good record for me. In one night I about 20 mosquito bites. The majority on my calves. I woke up scratching at 5:30 a.m. and I headed straight to the local 24 hour Wal-Mart for an anti-itch cream. My legs look to have the chicken pox.
4. Saw the movie The Devil Wears Prada with my mom. There's one scene with the actress Ann Hathaway brushing her teeth. Why is it, when in television or the big screen, when we see the actors brushing their teeth there doesn't seem to be toothpaste used? It looks like they are just dry brushing their teeth. Where's the runny toothpaste coming from their mouth running down their chin and coming close to dripping on their shirt? There has to be realism with acting. People, where is the toothpaste? I can't be the only person who experiences this.
5. It's a good thing Mom and I decided not to go away while I'm vacation. That saved money to buy a much needed toilet that had it's last flush when I arrived. (I promise I didn't do anything to it.) So, Mom and I visit Lowe's to look at toilets. Mom's found the one she wants for the house, then we come across a row of toilets sitting on the floor. We were first looking a toilets up on a display. Mom is looking at the seat heights, bowl capacity (always important), and she lifts the lids. You notice the toilet seats are designed differently and I get the thought, "Oh my goodness, she's not going to sit down on one of those to test it out?" Then I have to ask the Lowe's worker, "Excuse me, do a lot of people sit on these toilets to test them out?" She looks at me and slowly nods her head. I don't know if she's slowly nodding as to say, "I know and I can't believe they do it either," or the "I can't believe you just asked that question. Of course people sit on them." She did tell me that people sit on them just to be sitting on them. They're just resting their legs. I got to thinking about my question. It would be smart to lift the lid and sit for a while. I mean, people get constipated. They have to sit on the toilet for some time. It might as well be a good fit.

At this moment...

At this moment in time, I have the distinct feeling that life sucks.

Bitch and Moan Session

My vacation has officially started but I have the sneeky suspicion that I won't rest. Right now my mind feels as if it's on straight caffine. It won't calm down. Damn it. I've had two, no three shitty days at work and my mind won't shut down. I'm tempted to do one of two things to solve this dilemma...

1. Go to a local fabric store. Buy fabric and focus on making a quilt. I finished my first one a couple weeks ago. I had a one track mind when working on it. Not too much of anything floated in my brain except working on the quilt. Almost theraputic.

2. Find a decent liquor store. Search for something new to drink. Buy a pack of cigarettes to go with it and enjoy the night on my balcony. If you've been reading this blog, you know I'm not a heavy drinker. I'll buy a six pack of Sam Adams and Smirnoff Ice and let it sit in the refrigerator till it goes bad. (Yes, Festi I had to throw 5 bottles of Sam Adams down the drain because they had gone bad.) But, occassionally I like to try something new. Also, if you've been reading this blog, you'll know I've made an attempt to quit smoking. It's been almost a month since I've had a cigarette. August 10th will be a month. I'd really like to have one tonight.

______________________________

There were two gentlemen who came to the library that made me want to scream. One yesterday and one today.

First off, would someone please tell me what I do that encourages men who visit the library to make unwanted passes at me? I don't wear revealing clothes. I don't wiggle my hips or ass. I don't flirt. I work at the library. I'm nice and helpful.

Yesterday, a man calls to ask questions about the library. "Do you have internet access, wireless access, fax machines, what are your hours, blah, blah, and blah." I respectfully gave him the answers he needed. He was a jolly fellow on the phone. An out of towner from California. He gave me his name (first and last). I said my first name. (It happens on occassion that people will give their name and they expect your name in return. They get my first name and that's it.) Thirty minutes later, my phone rings at the office. My phone hardly ever rings. So I'm thinking this must be important. "This is ______ _______." On the other line, it's him. He remembered my name and specifically asked for me. He had some more questions. For crying out loud.

One to two hours later, he arrives at the library and I'm able to pass him off to another librarian since I was busy answering another question. Fifteen minutes later he approaches the desk saying our wireless connection isn't working. (Which isn't a surprise to me knowing the head of our Automation Department is an asshole.) So I'm doing what ever trick I know to get the wireless connection fixed. He's using a Macintosh computer, the library uses PC. I only use a PC, and he seems to think it's okay to crack jokes at me that I must be a "computer snob" because I don't like a Mac. First off, Mac's fucking confused me when I first approached them. PC's became my friend when to me they were more user friendly. He has to chat and chat and say how better the Mac is than a PC. Like I fucking care at this point.

We are able to finally get wireless for him. For a short time at least. Now he's wanting to know if there are places around town that have wireless access. This CA man is expecting a lot from a small town. "Well don't you have a Starbucks?" My co-worker and I let out a laugh. "No we don't."

I've made this into a log story (sorry about that), but soon, he was asking me where I lived. He has a family reunion in the near by area. The same area as to where I live. I don't want to send him anywhere I may be in town. Because by now I'm trying to give him directions to some restaurants that have wireless access, and I've become completely confused. I'm wanting him out of the library so fast that I can't concentrate on North, South, East and West. He's got me so damned confused, talking to fast, not letting me think straight. All I want to say is, "See the door, walk out and keep going."

But, before he leaves, he stops to give me his business card (with his cell phone number he tells me) and to give him a call. I'm thinking, "Oh please don't do this. What the fuck did I do?" I tell him to have a good night.

Later that night, I meet up with some friends at a local bar/eatery/pub and tell this story. I tell my friend the event with the Real Estate / Finance broker from California. I tell her about the whole frustrating event of trying to give directions while he was talking and confusing me. She tells me, "It's called flirting." Without skipping a beat I reply, "It's called annoying the shit out of me."

That guy annoyed me. I may have had different feelings had it been a guy I was attracted too.

_________

That's it for now.

This and That...

Here are some thoughts going thru my head as well as some whatnots...

• I'm having one of those moments when I want to write, but don't know what to write.
• I can have several chapters rumbling in my head for a story but I freeze when I begin to actually write.
• It's the same thing that happens to me when I go to the grocery store (or any store for that matter) and I completely forget why I came to the store in the first place.
• Today it was the Barnes and Noble bookstore. I go to the store intent on looking for a CD by the Elders.
• I know what you're thinking, "Why are you going to Barnes and Noble to buy music?" Well, my favorite B&N in Kentucky has a section for music.
• I stepped one foot in the store and could not remember why I was there. So I decided to walk around the store until the reason came to me.
• Once it did, I looked around and damn it, wouldn't you know it, this B&N doesn't have a music section.
• I'm standing in the middle of B&N with a frustrated look on my face thinking, "Well, I could just go ahead and buy a book. No, don't do that. You have enough books."
• I leave the store, without a book and make my way to another city for Border's which hopefully has the CD.
• Arrive at store, and remember why I'm there. (I'm off to a good start.)
• Search for the music section.
• Found it.
• Alright, now I need the World Section in music. I see Country, Soundtracks, R&B, and etc.
• I was going to be pissed if I didn't find the World Section. Aha, finally, last row.
• Searching for Elders. Searching. Searching. Searching. No luck.
• I see a catalog to find items in the store. No Elders available. Well, shit.
• Now who else was I wanting. Ah yes, Gaelic Storm's new album - Bring Yer Wellies.
• Searching. Searching. I see most of their other albums, but no Bring Yer Wellies.
• Check catalog. Bring Yer Wellies is available to buy. Located in World Section under Celtic. "No it's not!!"
• I check all through the Celtic section. Damn it. What's a girl gotta do to buy the music she wants?
• Browse the store. Where am I not looking?
• I search all around the store (new big store) and finally under New Music, there it is. Sorry, there was no bright light, just an "On Sale" sign on the CD. Something at least for my troubles.

It's back

So what exactly pissed me off that I couldn't keep it written down in my blog. A library patron pissed me off. What royally ticked me off is that now I'm questioning and doubting my intelligence and knowledge every time I step up to the reference desk and work. I don't like having self-doubt. I've had enough of if during my 29 years here on earth and I'm doing my absolute best to not let it rule me. His comments just set me back many many steps. The idiot.

I will come out and admit I'm not the best speller, and I don't know every definition in the dictionary. But for crying out loud, that's why I love the dictionary (the slag dictionary in particular - it's an absolute hoot). If I don't know the spelling, nor the definition, I'll look it up.

Another thing, I stopped majoring in math a long time ago. I once wanted to be a math teacher, and an accountant long ago in college. That's in the past. Don't expect me to know all math. Even math you would assume is simple. My brain has what I refer to as "information overload." Too much crap to calculate certain equations.

And, I come from Eastern Kentucky, we sometimes have our own way of talking. Get over it. We knew "ain't" was a word long before Webster ever put it in the dictionary. You don't like our grammar, then talk to someone else.

As for history, it's only been the past couple years in which history has become interesting to me. I have much to catch up on. There are days which I don't remember what I did yesterday. Give me a damn break.

So this older gentleman comes to the desk to ask a question. I've helped him before, and he seems to like to seek help from me rather than the other librarians. Don't ask me why. Maybe I'm just nice. I'm assuming he's wanting the baseball schedule for his satellite radio. Nope. He's wanting conversions. Our conversation goes something like this...

Me: You're wanting conversions?

Him: Yes. Can you convert for me 88.1 kilos into pounds?

Me: (Damn it. Math. Conversions.) Okay. Google has a website that will work conversions for us.

Him: You mean you can't do conversions?

Me: You do not want me doing math for you.

Him: I thought librarians knew everything. You can't do conversions? Well I can do conversions.

Me: Well, if you know how to do conversions, why did you ask me? (I'm quite proud of myself for saying that to him. I wasn't in the mood to put up with him on that day.)

Him: Ahh. Now don't joke with me like that.

(We go to Google for conversions and type in the correction information. He's happy with the information except he's 10 pounds overweight and plans to loose it in one week. We work his height conversion and thankfully he's smart enough to know he can't change that.)

Now he wants to test his knowlege on conversions. He's wanting to convert Fahrenheit to Celsius.

Him: Now type in 100 degrees Fahrenheit to Celsius.

Me: (At this point I reach for the dictionary because I ALWAYS have a problem with spelling Fahrenheit. ALWAYS.)

Him: What? You mean you can't spell fahrenheit? You can't spell. You can't do math. You aren't good with Language Arts (the asshole had the decency to correct my grammar. I thought only my Aunt did that?). And you don't know history. Maybe I ought to get me another librarian.

Me: (With a sweep of my hand) Be my guest, there are plenty to choose from.

Him: No I think I'll keep you. (Damn it. For a second there I thought I'd gotten rid of him.)

For a couple days, I was proud that I talked back to him. I didn't let myself become shocked at what he said. Now, I'm just pissed.

It's gone

If you're looking for my July 12th, 2006 post, it's not there. I deleted it. If you are in desperate need of wanting to know what it was about... ask. I'll give a brief synopsis.

One Day

I've survived one day without a cigarette. Day two is almost over.

Kicking the Habit... Once again

I've mentioned a few times that I need to quit smoking. So, just to let everyone know that I'm not "all talk," I'm going to see what I can do about quiting... once again.

So that's why I made the trip to Wal-Mart to buy one of these...

I'm trying the patch. I've used it before, and thought "it couldn't hurt."

Before I started smoking again last year, I had quit for almost three years. I quit cold turkey. What helped was that I had my last cigarette the Friday before I turned in my letter of resignation at my social work job. I can't handle stress to well. I turned to smoking to handle my stress.

I picked up the habit last summer. I was stressed, bummed out, and frustrated at work and I allowed myself one cigarette per week. But then my aunt was murdered (I'm not going to sugar coat what happened, it was murder) and well that once a week turned in to at least one a night then some. Then my Memaw had her stroke in January so all ideas of quitting went out the window.

If I'm away from my apartment, say at my parent's, my sister's or on vacation, I can go a week without a cigarette. But as soon as I come back, it's what I want.

Notice the picture says Step 2. I'm not a heavy smoker. Step 2 is for people who smoke 10 cigarettes or less a day. It's on the weekends, when I have free time that I smoke the most. Working doesn't give me the chance to smoke.

I put first patch on last night before bed. I woke up with a headache (I went to be with a headache). I wonder if the nicotine in the patch added to the headache. The patch came off this morning and the headache as somewhat subsided.

One of the directions indicates... "if you have vivid dreams or other sleep disturbances, you may remove the patch at bedtime and apply a new one in the morning." That could explain why I didn't fall asleep until after 2:00 am. That could also explain why I vividly remember working at a doctor's reception desk with the assistant director of my library, and me marching up to a parent of three rambunctious kids, taking away their bottles of ketchup and mustard because she (the mother) would tell her children to stop squirting the red and yellow substances on the waiting room walls. It says "vivid" dreams. Not necessarily "strange" dreams.

Things I Enjoy....

(In no particular order)

• A book that you can't put down.
• Long drives through the country.
• Having the movie theater all to myself
• Tulips
• Time to write in my journal
• A comfortable silence with my family and friends
• Kindness
• My chili with cheese and Fritos
• Peaches
• Falling asleep curled up underneath my Memaw's quilt
• Finding unique surprises about my Memaw
• Seeing my cat when I come home from work
• Daydreaming
• Long naps
• Bookstores
• People watching
• Learning about people
• Listening about people's lives
• Hearing about new adventures
• Seeing the water meet the sky in the far off distance
• Sand beneath my toes
• A light cool breeze
• Barns
• Lighthouses
• History
• The pleasure of turning off the alarm clock
• Waking up to happy dreams
• A long soak in the bathtub
• Chocolate chip cookies
• Vacation with my family
• Inside jokes
• People understanding me
• Being a contradiction from time to time
• Sex on the Beach (drink)
• Woodchuck (drink)
• Having a cigarette on my balcony in the middle of the night when everyone is asleep
• Decorating the Christmas tree with Christmas music or a Christmas movie playing
• The guest bed at my sister's house
• Pizza with everything on it
• (possibly more in the future)

Library Career Confession

I became a librarian for the books. That's my confession. After everything I wrote in a previous post I thought it would be best to make my confession.

It all started with an employment ad for a local library. I was job searching after earning a Bachelor's degree in Family Studies. I saw an advertisement for a librarian and decided that's what I wanted to do. I didn't want a job working with families. Not particularly anyways.

To apply for the job I needed a Master's Degree in Library Science. "Okay, I'll get one of those." So while I was trying to get into the nearby Library Science program, I worked as a social worker. Two years of feeling depressed, cynical, sarcastic, looked down upon, and just miserable made me realize how much I wanted to be in a job where I was happy and enjoyed my time. I thinking was, if I'm going to work eight hours a day for most of my waking life, I better enjoy what I'm doing. I loved books, and I amazingly still liked people. What better place to be than at a library.

So, I'm finally in the Library Science program. I quit my full-time job to become a full-time graduate student and work part time at a library. One a my professors gave a snide remark in class about students entering the program just because they like to read. I gave him a mental eye roll and continued to listen to his very boring lecture. I didn't learn a damn thing from him. To this day one of my friends like to quote him and repeat some of his stories. She likes him, and I think he's a dork. He probably hasn't set a foot in a library in 20 years.

Anyways, I worked as a reference librarian. I never thought I would ever be a reference librarian. I mean, you have to be highly intelligent to be a reference librarian. Intelligence helps, but the key is to know where to find the answer. That I can to. Countless times, I have answered a reference question by saying, "I don't know, but I can find the answer for you." (And there are times in which Google is used.)

Even though the patrons will drive me nuts sometimes, and even though I feel occupational burnout riding my heels, I like the fact that I'm a librarian. I'm working at a place where there are answers to my questions. Occassionally I have the chance to educate individuals (that is if they are up to it.) If a book strikes my fancy, it's often in reach.

So for anyone who wants to be a librarian for the sake of books... go for it. Just know, there's always more to it.

Touchdown Jesus that looks like Butter

If you are ever driving on Interstate 75 in Lebenon, Ohio you will come across the strangest work of art...

This is what people around here refer to as the "Touchdown Jesus." Just yesterday someone said it was the Touchdown Jesus that looks like Butter. I can see how she thinks like that. Me, I've always called it "The Big Jesus."

What I find facinating is what's across the highway, off the same exit...

Yes ladies and gentlemen, a Hustler of Hollywood is just a hop, skip and a jump away.

Library Annoyances

I always give an inward smirk when people tell me they wanted to be a librarian. Many of those individuals are book lovers and they like the idea of being surrounded by books. A good reason. Nothing wrong with it, but they don't understand the reality that librarians are surrounded by annoying people. We librarian don't have the pleasure of reading all day while working at the library. It's actually frowned upon. Unless you are reading professional reading material. I find it lame that we can't take the time to read while working. There are plenty of people who come up to us and ask for a good book to read. Everyone is different, with different tastes, and it would help if I was given the time to read more to give our patrons ideas. But I'm just a reference librarian, low on the food chain. My voice isn't heard.

Here are some of the annoyances I experience while working at the library. They are in no particular order. Some days the smallest incident will bring me to a boiling point.

• Administrators who only look at the numbers.
• Administrators who think they know how to make the public happy when they haven't seen the people who visit the library.
• Parents who believe the library is a good place for their children to throw temper tantrums.
• Parents who let their children run through the library and think it's cute. It's fucking annoying.
• People who think Google gives them all the answers. Just the other day, I was answering questions via chat to a gentleman who asked how long does it take for the skin to replace itself. I was searching through reputable health databases and websites and not coming up with anything. All the sudden he gives me a message stating, "I found an answer that said 35 days." I asked him, where did you find the answer? I was curious. There's a possibilty that I could use his source in the future. His reply, "Google." What a fucking answer I thought. Google did not give him the answer, Google gave him many different websites with his chosen search strategy. And another thing, why is he asking me the question when he obviously found the answer. Asshole.
• Patrons who are impatient. In this day and age with microwave ovens, high-speed internet, fast food drive thrus, self checkouts at the grocery store, etc. people are expecting an answer this second. You take more than a minute and you're just fucking incompetent. I hate to hear, "that's okay, I'll look it up myself." Which usually turns into them getting on the internet, going to Google and finding the answer. It doesn't matter where the answer came from, or whether or not it's correct. It's an answer and they found it on Google.
• People who don't want to find the answer in a book. One of the administrators at the library, and the person who buys the library's reference books asked a question about former Vice President Al Gore. Now, she was at the reference desk, in front of a computer when asking the question. Now, my first thought is to grab the Who's Who of the America. It's a multi-volume book that will have the basics and a little bit more of many individuals in the United States. Since each page has several columns of small print written, it took me a couple of seconds to find his name. I find his name, bring the book to her, open it to the information on Al Gore, and she tells me, "don't worry I'll find it." And she heads straight to the computer. The fucking answer was right in front of her. She found the answer on the computer a couple minutes later, with the open book in front of her.
• People who think we will do everything for me. We do not write resumes. We do not type letters. We do not babysit. I just love it when people say, "Well, someone told me you will help me with this." Yes we will help. We will help you sign on to a computer. We will provide you all the information you need to write a resume, but we do not do the work for you.
• How about those people who come up to the desk and say, "I don't know how to work a computer. Will you do this for me?" Mostly it's find a book. All I have to do is type the name of the book, author, keywork, or subject and we can find it. What bother's me are those individuals who say, "I'm not going to learn how to use a computer. I don't see why I should." It's that answer than I want to say, "fucker." But I smile and go on. (Once someone asked me if I was always happy because I always had a smile on my face. The answer was a BIG no. I smile because I can't curse at people. At least not while I'm working. Who am I kidding, I hardly curse at anyone. I just can't seem to do it.)
• People who try butter me up before asking for a favor, "the library has always been great to me, you all are wonderful, could you do this for me?" What would I like to say, "listen lady, just ask your damn question. Don't butter us up. An while you're at it, learn how to use the damn copier. You've seen us use it for you plenty of times."
• Don't I seem like a cheerful Librarian.
• Don't get me wrong, I'm fairly kind and nice to everyone who comes up to the desk for help. I've formed friendships with some of the people. I like working with the public. (I'd be a hermit for sure if I didn't work a the library). There just happens to be certain moments when I have to take a deep mental breath and go one. Sometimes a mental middle finger does the trick too.

Writing Prompt #1

I'm trying something new. So have patience with my lack of creativity.

Writing prompt...

You’re at your favorite department store buying a birthday present for a friend. As the cashier gives you change, you notice a message with specific instructions scribbled on one of the bills. What did the instructions say? Did you carry them out and, if so, how?

"Here's your change, $6.35. Thank you for shopping at Walmart, and please come again," came the automatic reply from the cashier.

I wasn't paying much attention to the change she'd given me, nor her reply. It's given by every employee here. I could say it in my sleep. Her unenthusisatic reply didn't bother me. I wouldn't be happy saying that phrase over and over again. My attention was focused on the one dollar bill still in the cashier's drawer. It's not mine. It will go to the next person in line, but I wanted to see it. It was covered with lettering. Block style from my point of view. Neat. With purpose. It wasn't a dollar bill where someone just happened to put a phone number or dollar amount on it. It wasn't just one line. There were several lines on it.

I barely noticed the money in my hand, or the person behind me waiting impatiently for their chance to check out. Ohioans are so damn unpatient and they intrude on one's personal space.

The cashier was just about to close the cash register when it popped out of my mouth, "don't close it!"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't close the cash register."

Through my intesity on this dollar bill I did happen to register her perplexity, and the fact that she didn't like my demands on Walmart's equipment.

"I want that dollar bill in there." My eyes are wide on the money, my body bending close to see what's there. "Can I have that dollar."

"No, you cannot have any more money. You have your change."

Looking up at her I see that she thinks I'm insane. Any second now she's going to call the manager, and that person is going to call the cops thinking I want to steal Walmart's money.

I take the dollar bill from my change and hand it to her, "Switch with me. That dollar bill on top for mine." She's looking at my outstretched hand with the dollar bill thinking I've gone crazy. She's going to by-pass the manager and call the closest mental health hospital.

To let her know I'm no threat, and all I want is that one particular dollar, I lay mine down, back away and wait.

"Fine. Here's your damn dollar." You don't hear that from Walmart employees every day.

She switches the dollar for me.

Okay, just seconds away from the mystery of the well written dollar. I wasn't mistaken, the handwriting was very neat, and it took up both sides. Black ink.

"To the person who reads this dollar bill... You are holding a scientific study. Please call the following phone number to participate. We are striving to achieve mass amounts of telephone calls from across the United States with this one dollar bill. Your phone call is urgently wanted. Please don't waste time. Call at (XXX) 555-0000."

O for crying out loud. They want me to call them. It's probably some pervert, or someone from Nigeria wanting to scam me for money. What a disappointment.

As I walk out of the store, I wad up the dollar bill, approach an unsuspecting cute twentysomething male, look him in the eye, give him the dollar bill and say, "here for a good time call this number." I walk off with a roll to my eyes.

Later that night....

Twenty-eight year old Robert finally looks at this dollar bill given to him by the lady walking out of Walmart. He reads the note and understanding sinks in, "Damnit, no wonder I had to change my number."

Off the top of my head...

I think I've gotten past my Mormon kick. I have several books in my possession from the library about Mormonism, but I'll probably never get to them. Better books out there to read.

So here's what's on top of my head...

• The head librarian at my library likes to talk to me as if I'm ten years old. She's an anal micromanager. I imagine that I tower over her and say, "Listen short bitch, I'm twenty-nine years old, treat me like it." She was once an elementary school teacher. I guess she has forgotten what it's like to talk with adult.
• I may be twenty-nine years old, but I still have to show identification to buy something that I only have to be eighteen years old to buy. I'm told I have a baby-like face. Put my hair in a ponytail with my glasses on, I guess I do look kinda young.
• I really should stop smoking. Again. For the third or fourth time. I've lost count.
• The people at the library are starting to drive me nuts again. A much needed vacation is in the distant horizon.
• I have some friends visiting me next month and one of my thoughts is, "how am I going to get rid of the many bottles of Sam Adams in the refrigerator?" The obvious answer is to drink them. The obvious question is, "why are you worried about five bottles of Sam Adams being in the refrigerator?"
• These are my friends from church in Kentucky and I don't think they will think highly of me having my bottles of Sam Adams. Not when they see the other bottles of Smirnoff Ice, Maker's Mark and Wild Turkey. They will think Ohio has turned me into a lush.

That's all for now. Not much going on in my head.

Cake Recipe: Rum Cake

Let's change things up. Here's the recipe for the cake I made today for work...

Rum Cake

1 box of yellow cake mix
1 box of instant vanilla pudding
1/2 cup of light rum
1/2 cup of water
1/2 cup of oil
4 eggs

Mix all the ingredients together and bake for approximately 1 hour in bundt cake pan.

_______________________

Glaze
1 cup of sugar
1/2 cup of butter
1/4 cup of light rum
1/4 cup of water

When cake is close to being done, cook glaze ingredients until sugar is disolved (only a couple of minutes). Take the cake out of the oven when done, pour glaze on top of cake (still in pan). Let the glaze soak into the baked cake for approximately 15-30 minutes.

Turn the cake over into a plate to remove. Eat 24 hours later. Damn good stuff.

The Mormon Twins: Part II

I admit, there are some topics that I have to research, and I research the topic until I'm bored or completely confused. I'm on a Mormon kick.

The following website is from the Christian Apologetics and Research Ministry (CARM for short). CARM presents information about various religions, some cults. Here is the website on Mormonism.

Some things of interest (or strangeness to me)...

• Baptism for the dead, (Doctrine of Salvation, Vol. II, p.141) This is a practice of baptizing each other in place of non-Mormons who are now dead. Their belief is that in the afterlife, the, "newly baptized" person will be able to enter into a higher level of Mormon heaven.
• The book of Mormon is more correct than the Bible, (History of the Church, 4:461.)
• Jesus and Satan are spirit brothers and we were all born as siblings in heaven to them both, (Mornon Doctrine, p. 163.)
• God had sexual relations with Mary to make the body of Jesus, (Brigham Young, Journal of Discources, Vol. 4 p. 218, 1857; vol. 8, p. 115.) - This one is disputed among many Mormons and not always 'officially' taught and believed. Nevertheless, Young, th e2nd prophet of the Mormon church taught it.
• After you become a Mormon, you have the potential of becomeing a god, (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, pages 345-347, 354.)
• The true gospel was lost from the earth. Mormonism is its restoration, (Articles of Faith, by James Talmage, p. 182-185.)
• There are three levels of heaven: telestial, terrestrial, and celestial, Mormon Doctrine, p. 348.
• Jesus' sacrifice was not able to cleanse us from all our sins, (murder and repeated adultery are exceptions), (Journal of Discources, Vol. 3, p. 247, 1856.)
• If it had not been for Joseph Smith and the restoration, there would be no salvation. There is no salvation [context is the full gospel including exaltation to Godhood] outside the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, (Mormon Doctrine, p. 670.)
• A plan of salvation was needed for the people of earth so Jesus offered a plan to the Father and Satan offered a plan to the father but Jesus' plan was accepted. In effect the Devil wanted to be the Savior of all Mankind and to "deny men their agency and to dethrone god." (Mormon Doctrine, page 193; Journal of Discources, vol. 6, page 8.)
• Good works are necessary for salvation, (Articles of Faith, p. 92.)
• There is no salvation without accepting Joseph Smith as a prophet of God, (Doctrines of Salvation, Vol. 1, p. 188.)
• Note at the end: Some Mormons may disagree with a few of the points listed on this page, but all of what is state here is from Mormon authors in good standing of the Mornon Church.

For all those individuals who disagree with what is being said on this website about the Mormon faith, CARM also has a webpage for them. (A complaint page.)

And here is what said about those born of Color. (I write some of the strangeness below.)

• According to Mormon history and authoritative Mormon teachers, the Negro, as they were referred to, are a cursed race because they were not faithful to God in their first state (the pre-existent life with God). Hence, when they are born they are born in black skinned families.

I'll shut up for now.

What should I talk about?

I'll talk about the Morman twins.

• They aren't really twins, but certainly Mormans. Males who are a part of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints usually spend time as missionaries. They go door to door in groups of two not necessarily spreading the word about Jesus Christ but more about their church. Since they go in packs of two, I've decided to call them twins. Let's forget a moment that I'm a Christian. I have to say that because I really dislike the Morman church. I call it a cult. They are some of the nicest people around. Very polite. I personally think they are brainwashed. (Of course, there are plenty of people in this world who think Christians are brainwashed too.)
• I recently visited my sister and was rewarded with a visit from two twins. I was the only one around and I did not want to talk to the fellas. There are alot of people who don't. But I try not to be mean. They are only doing their job. I say job because at a certain age, they are required to leave their family and be missionaries. As far as I know they don't have a choice. They were quite persistant, but I was persistant with my "no" response. I chose to be very vague about when my sister and brother-in-law would return home from work. I know they can handle their own with the twins, but I didn't want them bothered by them.
• Looking back, I wish I was a smart ass to them. But that's hindsight, and honestly something I wouldn't really do. I just don't have it in me to be mean to them face to face. Like I said earlier, they are only doing their job. Now, my athiest friend, her and her husband gave them the riot act when visited by the twins. They hate missionaries. Doesn't matter what kind. I don't think my friend would accept my argument they LDS is a cult church. In fact I don't think everyone would believe my opinion on the church. They are nice people.
• On a side note, my closest friend gives me a wicked grin if I ever mention the Morman twins. All because I made one comment about them. The library were I work is close to where some of the twins live. They use the library computers for email. So often I see them with their startch white shirts, black trousers, tie, and name tag. Some are quite cute and I think, "Damnit, why do you have to belong to that damn church." There are times the evil, wicked side of my brain just wants to mess them up. I think what I said to my friend was, "I just want to jump their bones to mess them up."
• She's never forgotten that statement.

This and That...

I'm fairly sure my cat can sense things that are beyond my eyesite. Just know, he's sitting by the window and all the sudden his body is at attention looking straight up where the window blinds are raised. His eyes are focused on something. So being me, wondering "what the heck is up there?" I follow his line of vision and what do I see.... nothing. Absolutely nothing. The way he looks up a walls and hunkers down in attack stance I think, "what are you seeing that I'm not?" Cats, my cat in particular, are strange that way.

I had a co-worker tell me that she expected me to quit my job here in Ohio move back to Kentucky when my Grandma had her stroke back in January. Just a couple days after Grandma past away I did have the mindset to do just that. Without a job lined up in Kentucky. It was a quick thought. Nothing serious, but something I would have loved to have done.

After my many embarassing moments that I experience on a sometimes frequent basis, it was nice to have the opportunity to witness someone elses embarassment. My mom and I pulled into the parking lot here at the apartment complex. I pulled the car beside someone who had just pulled in moments before me. The occupants were a guy and girl. Girl had been driving and the guy in the front passenger seat. She hops out of the car laughing and looking back at him. As she's walking to retrieve her mail, he gets out of the car, walks in front on mine and he appears to be in a hurry to finishing something. He's not facing my car. My mom and I see his back. And I can only suspect that where his hands are located, he's trying to finish pulling up his pants and zipping the fly. Unsuccessfully I might add. Mom and I are able to see briefs down past his butt. His hat is turned sideways. He's looking down at the front of his pants, the girl is looking back at him laughing as she makes her way to her apartment. He finally gives up zipping his fly and runs straight to her apartment to get away from our prying eyes.

I look at my mom and ask, "what do you think they were doing in the car?" We both have the same idea, but we could be wrong.

There are times in which I can tell my mom anything. Sometimes. And sometimes she surprises me with what she says. We prepare to watch the movie 40-Year-Old Virgin. I let my mom know this movie is funny but can be very crude. She was all for that because she wanted something funny to watch. So when it comes to one particular scene about describing a "woman fucking a horse," I'm thinking, "what is she going to think about this." I reminded her that it's a crude movie just before that scene. I think I laughed more with her response than any part in the movie. How did she respond? Her response was, "so how does a woman fuck a horse?" She was kidding ofcourse, but I just cracked up.

Random Thoughts...

What's going through my mind...

• I didn't get the chance to vote today. The news reminded me once again that Ohio was the deciding factor of the 2004 election. If people are talking politics and they piss me off, I can just smile and say I voted for Bush. That will really make them mad, but I'll have a smile on my face in watching their anger.
• I heard John Kerry may run again for President in 2008. I wonder how many people will vote for him since he wouldn't be running against George Bush. There were tons and tons of people who voted for him just because he wasn't George Bush.
• Nothing is going through my mind.
• Nothing.
• Absolutely nothing.
• Nothing excites me right now.
• No movie.
• No book.
• No conversation.
• Nothing on the internet.
• Nothing.
• I hate those moments.
• Fuck.

I was bored

Folks, I was just a little bored. A change was needed.

My Greatest Accomplishment

This blog is my place to say whatever comes to mind. Mostly stupid and crazy stuff with a rant thrown in from time to time. On very rare occassions I write about something that really affects me. That touches me to the core in which I share with the public. Honestly, I've done it once and I later deleted the post. Here is a rare occassion.

My greatest accomplishment in my 2_ years on earth .... I made my Memaw (Grandmother) smile. An accomplishment that occurred over and over while she was still living but one smile brings tears to my eyes as well as smile of my own.

My Memaw and I shared a special joke that my family and some of my friends knew about. It's funny so I had shared the joke with other people. But it was something that no one else could join in with. It was ours.

To an extent, Memaw was an old fashioned lady. Sometimes to a far extent she was an old fashioned lady. She strongly believed in her daughters and granddaughters to get an education and earn a living. We should not have to depend on a man for survival but, she still wanted us to have loving husband by our side. I suppose she wanted us to be happy with someone to lean on. To not be alone.

Frequently in my twenty's Memaw would ask me, "Do you have yourself a fella?" The answer was always no. Sometimes I would receive the you're-being-too-picky speech and that I'm going to pass up the right guy because of my pickiness. God love my Memaw, I would look at her, smile and say, "I love you Memaw." I'd give her a hug and we would go on. The subject was over... at least for this time.

There came a time when I thought I would be smart. I was ready for her question...

Memaw: (always asked with a loving smile) Do you have yourself a fella?

Me: No Memaw. You're a God fearing woman, why don't you pray for me a fella?

Memaw: I do. I ask God to bring you a good man that will love you and be good to you.

Me: Ok Memaw. I love you.

So from then on, whenever Memaw asked the question, "Do you have a fella?" I piped back with a "Have you been praying for one Memaw?"

The answer was always given with a laugh and smile which was a "Yes."

At the beginning of the New Year in 2006, my Memaw had a massive stroke which affected her right side, her speech and her swallowing. Without going into alot of detail, my Memaw passed away in her sleep April 5th. Three months and two days after her stroke.

My last visit with Memaw is one I will never forget. She looked really good that day. Her eyes looked alert and recognized me and my sister. Some of the doctors and other didn't know if Memaw recognized people, but I have know doubt in my mind she knew who I was. I walked to the left side of her bed, looked into her eyes, and reached for her left hand which was raising up to grab mine. Her mouth was thinned but I saw the corners turn up in a slight smile.

I would hold and rub her hand, bend down and give her a kiss on her shoulder. "I'm just giving you some lovin' Memaw." Over the Christmas holiday when I spent a week with Memaw I would give her kisses on the cheek. "You're just giving me lovin'," Memaw would say.

After minutes of holding Memaw's hand, I stopped being greedy and let my sister take my place. I moved to the foot of her bed and just watched Memaw. Her health hadn't been well. She had her good days and bad days. Another stroke could come anytime. Truth be told, she probably had some mini strokes since her first massive stroke.

Visiting someone at a nursing home is never easy, most especially a loved one. To see Memaw there and not be able to have a conversation with her was just painful. Sometimes I never knew what to say. I did learn that just being there with her was better than any words I could say but at that moment, standing at the foot of her bed, with my sister, mom and aunt with us, Memaw was looking at me and I just let her know with my arms open wide, "Memaw I still don't have a fella."

The reaction from Memaw was the best I had seen from her since the stroke. The laughter was shown brilliantly through her eyes and smile. In that one moment I knew she knew who I was and what I said with our little joke. You can't beat that folks.

So, just a few days after that visit with my Memaw, when in a job interview I was asked, "What is your greatest accomplishment?" Without at second thought, my answer was...

"I made my Memaw smile."

Fuck Politics

Please excuse the very blunt title I've presented to you, but that's the mood I'm in. It's been a bad day everyone. Thank goodness for the little 10 year old male who came to the library looking for music by Eminem and Johnny Cash. He provided the chuckle I needed to finish the day at work.

Let's see here, what exactly happened today? I had the misfortune of finding out by accident that I did not get the job I wanted back in Kentucky. And, I could be seeing things that aren't really there, but I think politics had a part in why I didn't get the job.

I like my job here in Ohio. I don't care for Ohio, but I like who I work with and for the most part, the people who come to the library. But, a job opened up at a University in Kentucky for a Justice and Safety Librarian. The topic alone grabbed my attention. There aren't many specialized libraries in this particular subject matter, and I wanted it. I applied for the job, but I kept in mind that I don't come from an academic library background. I was really surprised when I had my first interview with the university. By telephone no less. Flabbergasted (did I spell that correctly) that I was offered a 2nd interview. This was an all day interview in which I had to give a 35 minutes (actually 45 minutes) presentation.

I talked with the Dean of Libraries who informed me there were over 100 applicants for this position and another open position combined, and I was one of three people asked to come to campus for the 2nd interview. They were looking for someone who was interested in the topic (hell, that was one of the main reasons why I applied) and not for someone just looking for a job. The search committee chair said she is still working on contacting the candidates' references. (Each person had three.) My 2nd interview was last Thursday, and they were going to decide early this week.

Imagine my surprise when I see this email come through my inbox...

"The good news is that Nicole has been offered and has accepted a
position
about which she is enthusiastic. She will be Justice and Safety
Librarian
at Eastern Kentucky University. Justice and Safety is one of the
colleges
at EKU, and its library is one of the branch libraries in the EKU
library
system. She'll provide instructional services and general reference.
The bad news is, of course, that we'll lose her; Friday April 14 will
be
her last day here. We'll start at once to look for a successor.
What a difference she has made in the 15 months or so she has been
Student
Affairs Officer. I've thanked her any number of times for coming to my
(and
the school's) aid, and I want to thank her again.
I know everyone joins me in wishing her well in her new position."
Dennis Carrigan

Now this D. Carrigan had no idea I would be seeing this email. This was sent to all the students on the Library School listserv, which I still happen to be apart of. He had no idea that I applied for the job, nor that I was asked for a 2nd interview.

One, I was hurt to find out this way, and to know who did get the job. I know for a fact that this Nicole has been searching for a job since she graduated from Library School. 15 months and she now has one. I can't help but think back to the conversation with the Dean of Libraries in my interview how they aren't searching for someone who is only looking for a job, but someone interested in the subject matter.

Two, I can only imagine the three people Nicole listed as her references. This Carrigan is the Assistant Dean of the only College of Library Science in Kentucky. She would have been crazy not to put his name down along with the Dean and other Library School professors on her resume. How the fuck am I suppose to compete with that?

Three, the search committee chair never checked up on my references. She talked with one. She and my current boss (and reference) kept playing phone tag. I know because my boss is truthful with me (and I didn't hear his phone ring.)

So, I'm pissed off. Rightfully so or not, I'm still pissed off. And hurt.

The Upcoming Class Reunion

My 10 year +1 high school class reunion is set to arrive in just a couple of months. I am glad to inform everyone that I will not be going. I have no intention of attending a reunion where I feel more people will be concerned on how better they are doing than everyone else. I graduated with a bunch of people who had the need to be better than the person they sat beside in Homeroom Class.

Technically there are probably only a handful of people I don't want to see, but knowing my luck, they will be there. And it will be enough to make my time there miserable. My mom seems to be more interested in knowing how my former classmates are doing than I am. What was that phrase she asked me the other night... "what happened to that guy I wanted you to date? what was his name, Kyle, Craig, Scott, etc...?" In my head I'm thinking, the guys names were Brian and Shane, and you know all about them.

The invitation included a questionaire to fill out in which my responses will go into a directory for our class. The one question that amused me was, "What is your funniest memory of high school?" (I talked this question over with my sister, I need help with the answer.)

"Don't you have a memory of someone falling down in gym class?" she asked me.

"Yeah, it was me." Yes, I had the nice fortune of falling face first on my stomach in gym class infront of Jeremy D., Travis U. and Jennifer L. After playing three different sports in high school, you'd think I would not trip over my own two feet to kiss the ground hard. Oh well.

Once I thought about it, I do have a favorite memory of high school. It was hearing that "good natured-never do anything wrong-look at me I'm great" Kellie G. was late to school because she was pulled over by a police officer for not stopping at a stop sign. (People didn't know her mean and evil side like I did. We spent 8 years playing sports together on the same team. I got to know her fairly well). Interstingly enough, she married a police officer who ended up trading sexual favors with women (or woman, sorry) that he pulled over on the road for law violations. Humm.

Show and Tell (1)

My latest creation. Completed last week. (The afghan, not the cat.)

I've been on a crocheting spree since about October. Five afghans were made for my friends and family during the Christmas season. Two for my sister and brother-in-law since I promised them one last year.

This is what I do when I'm bored. Most of the time at least; when I don't feel like going out, and I dont' feel like reading. My tastes in books are broad but nothing interests me these days. Some thing will come up. Last book I enjoyed was titled Poison Study by (I don't remember).

Turtle is in the picture (yes, that's his name) b/c he decided take a sit on the arm chair and look up at me. He just stares at me when he does that. As if I can read the minds of cats. I usually look at him and ask, "what are you looking at me for?"

I promise this crocheting librarian does NOT have birthday parties for her cat. I can't even remember how old he is. Four or Five?

Why I say "No" to Online Dating Services

I have just come across the 2nd Big reason why I don't put energy into online dating services. To me, there's a strange.... um what's the word for it? .... well let's just say strange things occur.

For some people, online dating is wonderful. Great. My sister is the prime example b/c she is currently married to the man whom she met online. (Yes, I was shocked when a year later they told me about meeting through Yahoo! Personals.) He turned out to be a good guy who I had previously met years before at college. Without knowing what was taking place, I let my sister know, "Yeah, he's a nice guy." Then what do you know, they meet, decide they could be good friends, and later I'm buying them a spice rack as a wedding gift. (I know what you're thinking, "A spice rack?! How boring! But at least it wasn't a toaster and it's what they wanted.)

On to my story, I happen to have a friend who can talk me into almost anything. Almost. An ice storm hit our town, her apartment was without electricity for a week, she stayed with me, and with her encouragement I'm setting up a personality profile through Yahoo Personals. (I thought I was completely off my rocker.) But, I needed to try something different besides going to school and working at the library. Something to add some spice. The profile was set and soon enough I was receiving instant messages from men reading my profile. Some were dorks. Some where okay. One happen to repeatedly ask, "Are you my soul mate?" Is that some sort of online pickup line?

Anyways, one evening, as we were watching television and I was doing some research on the internet I receive this one particular Instant Message... (I'm going to paraphrase here, but hopefully you'll get the idea.)

Him: how are you?
Me: fine. you?
Him: good. thanks.
(Lul in the conversations)
(I'm going to skip a bit here)
Him: i live in (city name here).
Me: me too.
Him: i work at the library downtown

(Holy shit! that's not possible. I work at the downtown library. who is this guy?)

(Big looong pause on my part, which at this point I yell at my friend, he works at the downtown library. )

(As your probably know, the library profession is dominated by females, not many males worked at he downtown library.)

("what should I say?" I ask my friend. The reply was a nice shrug. No help ofcourse.)

Me: I work there too. (Did I just tell him that?)

(Long pause on his part)

We decided to chat and not talk about the library. Basically because if we gossiped or said something about someone, we could have been talking about the person we are actually talking too. We talked about movies. A safe topic.

For the next week my mind is racing as to who this person is. We didn't tell each other our names. My friend and I were going through each male at the library. (We both worked there.)

For four days, I was going to school and going to work trying to figure out who I chatted with. I went through every name I could think of: Dan, Bobby, Patrick, Scott, etc.... I came up with nothing. Then one day I pass by Matt on the way to one of the desks on the Reference Floor. "Holy shit! It's Matt. Oh my goodness, it's Matt!!!. I thought. I wanted to die right there.

Not only did we work at the same library. Not only did we work on the same floor. We often worked at the same desk together!!! And let me tell you something ladies and gentlemen, he only has a personality if he's talking about movies. He earned a degree in geography by correspondance (how is that possible?) I had to do everything in my power to have a conversation with him. Nothing worked unless the topic was movies. Every thing else what monotone, one or two syllable answers. "Yeah. I know. Sure." And that was from asking open ended questions.

I never spoke to him about it, and he never mentioned anything to me. As if it never happened.

The second incident happened just thirty minutes ago. Once again with my friend's encouragement I filled out a profile for eharmony.com. (this profile was filled out towards the end of 2004). What it came down to was this, my friend has signed up for this and she wanted me to experience it so we can talk about it. I don't know if she really had hopes for me to find someone through this. What can I say, I'm a good friend.

I didn't go far with this. Which isn't a problem with me. I wasn't upset with it. My friend on the other hand, she actually went on a date with someone through eharmony.com. The date didn't go well, and I could have told her it wouldn't just by the desciption of the man she was meeting. I let her figure things out by herself. My profile is still up and running (a year later) and matches continue to pop up. Today was the first time I looked at my account in over 9 months (or more). I was bored. Browsing through the internet. I thought, sure, let's look at it.

Not surprisingly there were plenty of "closed" matches because I didn't reply to any of them. And these were matches made back in October 2005. I was looking through the names and location of some of the matches. Then all the sudden one caught my eye...

Dwayne (Maysville, KY)*

I know a Dwayne from Maysville, KY. Is that who I think it is?

• age 26
• occupation technology

That was all I needed to know. I knew who it was. Confirmation was made complete when I read the profile. This was the brother of my best friend. The best friend who encouraged me to make a profile to eharmony.com. Oh my goodness! Does he know? Did the name and location ring a bell to him? Please tell me his mind was too focused on his computers and X-Box to pay attention.

He closed the match with the reason... "I'm pursing other relationships...."

Yeah, and her name is Mandy.* (My friend has told me who he was interested in, but from the last report, there is no chemistry between them. No spark. Well, he will always have the X-Box.)

Just incase you are wondering. I have met Dwayne before. He, his sister and I went to a haunted house one year. They have a thing for haunted houses, though he is petrified to be in a cemetery. (My friend and I happen to love cemeteries for some strange reason.)

So that's that. What strange circumstances I happen to come across.

*Some names have been change to protect the identity of people.

Just my opinion...

I've been paying attention to the news about the Muslim anger over the Muhammad cartoon. A Denmark paper displayed a cartoonish like figure of Muhammad wearing a headdress in the shape of a bomb. Jordian and French newspapers have reprinted the cartoons and it seems all hell is breaking loose. Many Muslims are angry, burning Denmark flags, boycotting Danish products, and etc... (I've been reading the BBC news online, so look there if you want more information, or some other news place if you like.)

I'm going to sound incredibly mean when I say this but, "Boo hoo." Jesus Christ has been mocked for years. Though I admit I'm not the best example of a Christian, I believe Jesus Christ to be my Savior who died and rose from the dead, and I have to witness people mocking Him everyday. There are plenty of people in this world who don't agree with my faith. They find it to be silly, close-minded, and unfounded, and they poke fun at it. That doesn't give me the right to act in hate towards those people. Infact, if I do what the Bible says I ought to do, it should be just the opposite. Show love and compassion.

Earlier tonight I was thinking about all the times the name Jesus Christ is said in vain. (It's a big no-no for Christians). Or how about hearing the phrase "God d*mnit." It's said all the time. Television will bleap out the word "fuck" but not "God d*mnit." (I'm using the * because I don't like saying those two words together in a phrase. I know it's strange, I'll say "fuck" but not "God d*mnit." Don't worry, I rarely ever say it. ("Fuck that is) I mostly say "damnit" when I'm mad.) My best friend when on a rant one day about the entertainment industry using the G-D phrase all the time. How could I explain to her that there are plenty of people don't care about that phrase? Only to certain people is the G-D phrase a bad thing to say.

I've never heard people take Allah's name in vain. I'm trying to imaging hearing it... "Allah Damnit." Hmmmm? I don't think it has a "ring" to it. Or if you happen to hit your toes against the bed post would you yell in pain, "Muhammad!"?

I may have to try that some day.

Normally...

Normally I'm at my work desk this time of day, but something has come up, I have no work to do right now, so therefore I'll blog.

Since being confirmed by the Senate, Judge Alito now has job security. That has to be a major perk in being on the U.S. Supreme Court... lifetime appointment.

Senator John Kerry was being a poor looser once again by doing his best to stop the appointment. (Sorry for all you Kerry fans, but that's all I can think about when he attempts to stop a Bush appointment.)

And what was Senator Ted Kennedy doing by questioning Judge Alito on ethics?

You know you're back in Kentucky when...

... when you step into the grocery store, hear the sound of a box of crackers falling to the floor and watch with eyes wide open as the individual kicks the merchandise to the check out counter. No ladies and gentlemen, she doesn't pick it up, she kicks the box to the counter. Is there any wonder why I want to come back to my home state.

Complete Boredom

Today has been a day of complete boredom. I'm trying to think of interesting things to do today but nothing comes to mind...

Movies... cost too much
Crochet... need more yarn, and I don't feel like buying any
Television... I don't have cable, watched some football today, but lost interest

Reading... decided to read on other countries than my own, I'm getting lost in the names, dates, battles, etc... (I will continue trying though)

Visit the bookstore... naw, just more books, and I don't need to buy any right now

Bowling... where did that come from?

Drive around Ohio... did some of this earlier today, but gas is so high that I can't do much, and besides, Ohio isn't that interesting (at least where I am)

Sleep... always a good choice but I won't sleep tonight if I sleep during the day

Surf the Internet... I'm on the internet all day at work. All day. It becomes tiring after a while

Write in my blog... sure why not? that can be done.

Watch a video... I've seen the one's I own over and over again

Take a video back to the rental place.... damn, it's a couple days overdue. By everyone.