So, as happy as I am with the love-fest in the comments section, I really didn't mean that last post to be a combination talk about how badly I'm doing right now and request for comfort. It was more of a discussion of where I've been this past semester. It was hard, but I'm really doing fine at the moment. (Somehow, having the stress of schoolwork removed by the cessation of the semester has made the sun sparkle off the concrete of Boston just that much more.)
Seriously. It's good. I'm good. We're all good.
Also, I am feeling particularly great because:
A. I leave for home in approximately 24 hours.
B. I cleaned the apartment today, which is always satisfying (?).
C. I got straight 'A's this past semester.
Yeah. Seriously. I'm pretty dang okay with that.
Showing posts with label learn me stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label learn me stuff. Show all posts
Monday, December 15, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
A little hefty bit
Let me be frank: this semester has been dang hard. It's been hard scholastic-wise, social-wise, personal-state-of-self-wise, hair-wise, glasses-wise, pretty much every conceivable -wise possible.
Well, actually, that isn't true. I've had no difficulties with, say, species identity. I'm pretty sure I'm Homo sapiens. Also, my fingers have given me little trouble over the past few months. And hey, my continual acquisition of books has gone swimmingly.
But other things have been hard. When I say that the semester has been difficult scholastic-wise, I don't want to imply that I haven't enjoyed it; it's been one of the most enjoyable semesters I've had here. In fact, I feel that during this semester I finally got into the meat of what I hope to do as a professional librarian: reference work with children, preferably ages birth (yes, we do provide library services to babies) through 8th grade or so. I learned about programming for children, during which time I got to both construct a box of resources for a themed story time and later use someone else's box to perform a story time in class. It was, frankly, extremely awesome. Particularly the whole reading-picture-books-and-singing-songs in graduate school thing. I learned about children's literature, including how to write reviews and analyze the library's current collection to better meet the needs of the community. I spent hours and hours and even more hours getting familiar with reference source after reference source. It was intense, but oh-so-informative.
I guess that's the point: this semester's schoolwork was pretty heavy, but I feel like I learned more, or at least more valuable, pertinent-to-me information than I'd learned in any previous semester.
So, school was actually pretty good. Stressful, HECK YES, but good.
Let me just breeze through a few of these others before I get to the real meat of this: my hair is currently way too long and frazzled at the end. I needs a trim. This equals hardship for my poor self. My poor straggly-haired self.
Glasses: lost a screw. One of the lens frames is now held together with a fashionable piece of copper wire. I dare you to try to spot it without knowing about it beforehand. (And now you know about it! So you lose! Automatically! Dang, I'm sly.)
Personal-state-of-self. Dude. I consumed a ton of cookies tonight. I ordered Chinese food and pizza and I'm down to one pair of jeans that fits properly. Which makes me feel that I stink as a human being.
Which kind of leads me to the point of this whole post, the subject that I'm kind of reluctant to discuss, mostly because it reveals my really real deep inner flaws in a way that makes me intensely uncomfortable.
You see, this last semester, I also withdrew a lot from human contact.
It's not as bad at the moment, so I know have to write about this in a looking-back sort of way, rather than an I'm-in-this-right-now sort of way, so I don't know if I can fully recapture all the things that've been going on in my internal parts these past few months. Frankly, I could probably recapture it best at about 3:00 in the morning, with the occasional murmur of a single car passing outside my window making me feel, somehow, not less alone, but more so.
But, my roommates are home, and in and out of the room, being friendly (which is great) so let's see if I can grasp on to this slippery feeling that settled on me like a film of soap this past semester...
I have a feeling that my withdrawal from human contact has stemmed, to a large degree, from my growing dissatisfaction with myself. It's manifested itself in different ways: I can recall, for instance, sitting in church and feeling so unable to deal with people and the crowds and the press and the noise and the pressure that I had to escape outside in a near panic. I think I couldn't stand being around other people because, in part, I couldn't stand myself, or rather, I couldn't stand how I was sure other people viewed me.
So, I got out. And I kept getting out. And I kept not connecting with people, and I kept shutting the door to my room when I got home and I kept not really talking to people in class and.
And I just drew myself in and encrusted myself with as much armor-thick I-don't-care-ness as I could muster.
So, I had only myself to deal with. And, reluctantly, rarely, other people. When they absolutely refused not to be admitted. Which some did refuse, thank goodness.
And yeah, my relationship with God suffered too, mostly because I didn't take time for anyone besides my own brain. And, as crazy and entertaining as my brain can be, it can't provide insight into tremendously difficult life problems or answers to questions about the nature of the universe and our place in it (although it can come up with hecka-awesome dreams).
And. Good grief. NONE OF THIS explains really what I've been feeling or thinking or anything. And it's already too long by about 458%.
I guess, suffice it to say, I've had the door to my room closed far too often and for far too long. And I'm starting to reemerge back into the world, but it's hard. And I feel vulnerable and shaky, particularly because I'm still not entirely happy with myself, and because I'm afraid that other people can see the flaws in me that I can see in myself and that they scorn me for it.
But, you know, I'll still get up tomorrow morning. I'll still put on my skirt and those ugly brown shoes that are nonetheless comfortable and I'll wrap that blue scarf around my neck and button my slightly-too-tight coat over my bulgy self and I'll sit in church and listen to people talk and maybe even make a comment or two. If I'm feeling particularly daring. And it's even possible I'll feel the spirit. I hope so, because that's why I keep doing it.
And maybe, this week, and this next semester, maybe I can work on some of the things that have lately made me so unhappy about myself.
Maybe I can start to leave the door to my room open. Just a little bit more.
Well, actually, that isn't true. I've had no difficulties with, say, species identity. I'm pretty sure I'm Homo sapiens. Also, my fingers have given me little trouble over the past few months. And hey, my continual acquisition of books has gone swimmingly.
But other things have been hard. When I say that the semester has been difficult scholastic-wise, I don't want to imply that I haven't enjoyed it; it's been one of the most enjoyable semesters I've had here. In fact, I feel that during this semester I finally got into the meat of what I hope to do as a professional librarian: reference work with children, preferably ages birth (yes, we do provide library services to babies) through 8th grade or so. I learned about programming for children, during which time I got to both construct a box of resources for a themed story time and later use someone else's box to perform a story time in class. It was, frankly, extremely awesome. Particularly the whole reading-picture-books-and-singing-songs in graduate school thing. I learned about children's literature, including how to write reviews and analyze the library's current collection to better meet the needs of the community. I spent hours and hours and even more hours getting familiar with reference source after reference source. It was intense, but oh-so-informative.
I guess that's the point: this semester's schoolwork was pretty heavy, but I feel like I learned more, or at least more valuable, pertinent-to-me information than I'd learned in any previous semester.
So, school was actually pretty good. Stressful, HECK YES, but good.
Let me just breeze through a few of these others before I get to the real meat of this: my hair is currently way too long and frazzled at the end. I needs a trim. This equals hardship for my poor self. My poor straggly-haired self.
Glasses: lost a screw. One of the lens frames is now held together with a fashionable piece of copper wire. I dare you to try to spot it without knowing about it beforehand. (And now you know about it! So you lose! Automatically! Dang, I'm sly.)
Personal-state-of-self. Dude. I consumed a ton of cookies tonight. I ordered Chinese food and pizza and I'm down to one pair of jeans that fits properly. Which makes me feel that I stink as a human being.
Which kind of leads me to the point of this whole post, the subject that I'm kind of reluctant to discuss, mostly because it reveals my really real deep inner flaws in a way that makes me intensely uncomfortable.
You see, this last semester, I also withdrew a lot from human contact.
It's not as bad at the moment, so I know have to write about this in a looking-back sort of way, rather than an I'm-in-this-right-now sort of way, so I don't know if I can fully recapture all the things that've been going on in my internal parts these past few months. Frankly, I could probably recapture it best at about 3:00 in the morning, with the occasional murmur of a single car passing outside my window making me feel, somehow, not less alone, but more so.
But, my roommates are home, and in and out of the room, being friendly (which is great) so let's see if I can grasp on to this slippery feeling that settled on me like a film of soap this past semester...
I have a feeling that my withdrawal from human contact has stemmed, to a large degree, from my growing dissatisfaction with myself. It's manifested itself in different ways: I can recall, for instance, sitting in church and feeling so unable to deal with people and the crowds and the press and the noise and the pressure that I had to escape outside in a near panic. I think I couldn't stand being around other people because, in part, I couldn't stand myself, or rather, I couldn't stand how I was sure other people viewed me.
So, I got out. And I kept getting out. And I kept not connecting with people, and I kept shutting the door to my room when I got home and I kept not really talking to people in class and.
And I just drew myself in and encrusted myself with as much armor-thick I-don't-care-ness as I could muster.
So, I had only myself to deal with. And, reluctantly, rarely, other people. When they absolutely refused not to be admitted. Which some did refuse, thank goodness.
And yeah, my relationship with God suffered too, mostly because I didn't take time for anyone besides my own brain. And, as crazy and entertaining as my brain can be, it can't provide insight into tremendously difficult life problems or answers to questions about the nature of the universe and our place in it (although it can come up with hecka-awesome dreams).
And. Good grief. NONE OF THIS explains really what I've been feeling or thinking or anything. And it's already too long by about 458%.
I guess, suffice it to say, I've had the door to my room closed far too often and for far too long. And I'm starting to reemerge back into the world, but it's hard. And I feel vulnerable and shaky, particularly because I'm still not entirely happy with myself, and because I'm afraid that other people can see the flaws in me that I can see in myself and that they scorn me for it.
But, you know, I'll still get up tomorrow morning. I'll still put on my skirt and those ugly brown shoes that are nonetheless comfortable and I'll wrap that blue scarf around my neck and button my slightly-too-tight coat over my bulgy self and I'll sit in church and listen to people talk and maybe even make a comment or two. If I'm feeling particularly daring. And it's even possible I'll feel the spirit. I hope so, because that's why I keep doing it.
And maybe, this week, and this next semester, maybe I can work on some of the things that have lately made me so unhappy about myself.
Maybe I can start to leave the door to my room open. Just a little bit more.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Resurgence
Shall I post about why I haven't blogged in over a month?
Shall I write about this past semester and its joys, worries, hardships and my unaccountable desire to reread Asimov's entire Foundation series?
Shall I spend time profusely apologizing for being ineffably boring and neglectful by not providing my faithful readership with new and fascinating, periodically updated reading material?
I probably will. Soonish. But, having turned in my last assignment this morning, I believe I'm scheduled for a recovery period. Which means sleeping. Lots.
Shall I write about this past semester and its joys, worries, hardships and my unaccountable desire to reread Asimov's entire Foundation series?
Shall I spend time profusely apologizing for being ineffably boring and neglectful by not providing my faithful readership with new and fascinating, periodically updated reading material?
I probably will. Soonish. But, having turned in my last assignment this morning, I believe I'm scheduled for a recovery period. Which means sleeping. Lots.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Um, hey. So...it's been awhile.
Oh, you know. I've just been keeping myself busy with this and that and the other thing (although, if I'm going to be honest, I have to admit that the other thing is really what's been taking up the bulk of my time).
Yeah, I know you've been wondering why I haven't called lately, why all those texts stay unanswered in my inbox, why all those posts you've made to my Facebook wall have gotten no response, why I never even acknowledged that time you threw the brick through my window. (You know--the one with the ultimatum wrapped around it, secured with a piece of fraying twine?)
And believe me--I kind of feel like a jerk about it all. I sit in my room or on the couch and just think of all the great times we used to have and how bad I feel about the way I never seem to keep in touch with people and how I wish I had the time and energy to call people and chat it up or send an awesome lengthy email or, say, post to my blog for instance. Maybe.
And then I sigh and get back to working on assignments I've procrastinated until the day before that end up taking about 10 hours more than what I expected and I cut felt for a flannelboard story until my hands ache and I curse the dull scissors that I need to replace but I haven't really got the money and why the heck would I want to buy another pair of scissors when I'm most likely going to be moving sometime in the next seven or eight months and that'd be just one more thing to pack and I really kind of hope I pass all my classes this semester so I can graduate and get a real job so I don't turn into one of those over-30 folks who live in their parents' basements and make my family ashamed to be seen with me in public.
So, I'm sorry. I'm sorry because I know how it looks to you, and I just wanted to let you know that there are good reasons why I'm turning into an unresponsive hulk of Lizardbreath.
Thanks for being there, though. Thanks for understanding. Thanks for still liking me despite it all.
--Your loving Lizardbreath McGee
P.S. Oh, yeah. And you owe me 300 bucks for that shattered window.
P.P.S. Realistic (i.e. factual and uninflated) depiction of my sleeping schedule over the past few days:
Awake: Thursday morning at 6am until Friday morning at 3:30am
Asleep: Friday morning at 3:30am until Friday morning at 7:00am
Awake: Friday morning at 7:00am until Friday afternoon at 3:30pm
Asleep: Friday afternoon at 3:30pm until early Saturday morning at 12:30am
Awake: Early Saturday morning at 12:30am until slightly later Saturday morning at 4:00am
Asleep: Slightly later Saturday morning at 4:00am until Saturday morning at 6:10am
Awake: Saturday morning at 6:10am until BLOGPOSTTIME. Whenever that is. (i.e. NOW.)
I am trying to resist taking a nap. Please, please send good wakey-wakey vibes my way.
Yeah, I know you've been wondering why I haven't called lately, why all those texts stay unanswered in my inbox, why all those posts you've made to my Facebook wall have gotten no response, why I never even acknowledged that time you threw the brick through my window. (You know--the one with the ultimatum wrapped around it, secured with a piece of fraying twine?)
And believe me--I kind of feel like a jerk about it all. I sit in my room or on the couch and just think of all the great times we used to have and how bad I feel about the way I never seem to keep in touch with people and how I wish I had the time and energy to call people and chat it up or send an awesome lengthy email or, say, post to my blog for instance. Maybe.
And then I sigh and get back to working on assignments I've procrastinated until the day before that end up taking about 10 hours more than what I expected and I cut felt for a flannelboard story until my hands ache and I curse the dull scissors that I need to replace but I haven't really got the money and why the heck would I want to buy another pair of scissors when I'm most likely going to be moving sometime in the next seven or eight months and that'd be just one more thing to pack and I really kind of hope I pass all my classes this semester so I can graduate and get a real job so I don't turn into one of those over-30 folks who live in their parents' basements and make my family ashamed to be seen with me in public.
So, I'm sorry. I'm sorry because I know how it looks to you, and I just wanted to let you know that there are good reasons why I'm turning into an unresponsive hulk of Lizardbreath.
Thanks for being there, though. Thanks for understanding. Thanks for still liking me despite it all.
--Your loving Lizardbreath McGee
P.S. Oh, yeah. And you owe me 300 bucks for that shattered window.
P.P.S. Realistic (i.e. factual and uninflated) depiction of my sleeping schedule over the past few days:
Awake: Thursday morning at 6am until Friday morning at 3:30am
Asleep: Friday morning at 3:30am until Friday morning at 7:00am
Awake: Friday morning at 7:00am until Friday afternoon at 3:30pm
Asleep: Friday afternoon at 3:30pm until early Saturday morning at 12:30am
Awake: Early Saturday morning at 12:30am until slightly later Saturday morning at 4:00am
Asleep: Slightly later Saturday morning at 4:00am until Saturday morning at 6:10am
Awake: Saturday morning at 6:10am until BLOGPOSTTIME. Whenever that is. (i.e. NOW.)
I am trying to resist taking a nap. Please, please send good wakey-wakey vibes my way.
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Homework is EATING ME ALIVE!!!
It's true. Homework is engulfing me from the ground up; my toes and Achilles tendons have been nibbled away, my calves chewed upon, and now it's turning a hungry, baleful eye on my kneecaps.
Gross, homework! Keep away! I hate things that eat people! (Like mosquitoes, tapeworms, etc.)
Perhaps I shall conquer it with my vorpal sword. Or my stare of death. Or my.
Or my diligence, hard work and sacrifice.
But whatever the solution, I cannot conquer it by blogging.
So, away I must. (Go, that is. Away I must go. Silly sentence structure, that.)
Farewell. Until I emerge on the other side of this gruesome conflict, in which more shall be injured than paper and...laptop keys?
I. Make. No. Sense.
But I love making it nonetheless.
Gross, homework! Keep away! I hate things that eat people! (Like mosquitoes, tapeworms, etc.)
Perhaps I shall conquer it with my vorpal sword. Or my stare of death. Or my.
Or my diligence, hard work and sacrifice.
But whatever the solution, I cannot conquer it by blogging.
So, away I must. (Go, that is. Away I must go. Silly sentence structure, that.)
Farewell. Until I emerge on the other side of this gruesome conflict, in which more shall be injured than paper and...laptop keys?
I. Make. No. Sense.
But I love making it nonetheless.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Now, before you languish and die...
In case any of you have been wondering why I have been so woefully neglectful of you all, please know that I am now in the second-to-last week of the semester, the week when everything is due.
So, I'm busy, you see.
Really, truly.
And I'm not just saying that because I'm trying to avoid you.
It's just that I have to assign classification numbers to a whole buncha stuff. Also, prepare a booktalk set. And.
Huh. I think pretty much everything else is done. But I will refrain from celebrating until after next Tuesday, when my last assignment is due.
But OH, be prepared for a fab blog post after that. You won't be disappointed. Because I will make a bunch of stuff up to make my life sound really, really exciting. Hurrah for fiction!
And now I must retreat back into my hole.
So, I'm busy, you see.
Really, truly.
And I'm not just saying that because I'm trying to avoid you.
It's just that I have to assign classification numbers to a whole buncha stuff. Also, prepare a booktalk set. And.
Huh. I think pretty much everything else is done. But I will refrain from celebrating until after next Tuesday, when my last assignment is due.
But OH, be prepared for a fab blog post after that. You won't be disappointed. Because I will make a bunch of stuff up to make my life sound really, really exciting. Hurrah for fiction!
And now I must retreat back into my hole.
Friday, April 18, 2008
It's all such a mix, isn't it?
So, I could use a swear-word to describe yesterday, but since the readership of my blog consists of people who would probably not want to read the word, I will refrain.
But oh, was it ever that word.
I talked to my boss in the morning and realized that I had holy-hecka messed up at work the previous evening, (BAD), so of course I felt horrible about that, and then later that evening I spent from about 7 or 8pm until 3am this morning working on an assignment that was due at 8am. My neck ached, I nearly fell asleep at the computer, and I think I hallucinated something about spiders that turned into library patrons (not really).
Yesterday was also FABULOUS.
Before talking to my boss at work, I had a chance to participate in a national book drop for teens in hospitals (and medical clinics) sponsored by YALSA. One of my professors asked for volunteers, so the five of us (four students and the professor) went down to a local adolescent clinic to drop off several boxes, bags, and a cart full of books. It was, to be frank, quite awesome. (Even though I did have to be in some pictures. Urgh.) Also, the guy-who-was-once-bearded came and he was very nice, but then I was all sad because he's not LDS and thus It Can Never Be.
The best part of all this, though, was that as we walked back to campus (the clinic was only about a 15-minute walk away), I had the chance to talk with my professor, who has this vast amount of experience working directly in the field, teaching in the field, and just generally being this amazing advocate in the field of services to youth. She's pretty much my hero, now. Later that day, when I was at school listening to a faculty candidate give a lecture, that professor came and sat next to me. I felt so priviliged! (Haha! I feel like I have a teacher crush, except it's not really a crush, just a 'I really like this teacher' feeling.) Yeah. I'm kind of a nerd.
Um. And then there was another reason why the day was fabulous, which took place after I finished the assignment at 3am, but I won't go into that.
So, then, this morning, I walked to class, feeling at one with the world, with the pains of the day before safely buffered by 5 1/2 hours of sleep, loving the breeze, drinking in deep draughts of the blossom-laden world. Then I got to class.
And I remembered that I was supposed to bring snacks to class today.
And that the nearest grocery store was a good 10-minute brisk walk away. And that class was going to start in 15 minutes.
So, I briskly made my way to the store and briskly made my way back with a bag of Sun Chips mashed into my backpack, and made it to my seat just in time to catch most of The Dewey Rap.
And I realized that life is just all mixed up.
I don't mean to say that life is crazy confusing (although it can be); what I'm saying is that it's a hodgepodge, a jumble, a clothing rack at a discount store, where you'll find the designer jeans next to a mumu your grandmother would scorn.
So maybe being happy really does mean learning to pick the little pieces of life that are enjoyable, and choosing to learn from the bad parts, while still not letting them make us unhappy. Or maybe even just choosing to be happy, whether life throws you librarians rapping about classification systems, or yet another broken fingernail.
But oh, was it ever that word.
I talked to my boss in the morning and realized that I had holy-hecka messed up at work the previous evening, (BAD), so of course I felt horrible about that, and then later that evening I spent from about 7 or 8pm until 3am this morning working on an assignment that was due at 8am. My neck ached, I nearly fell asleep at the computer, and I think I hallucinated something about spiders that turned into library patrons (not really).
Yesterday was also FABULOUS.
Before talking to my boss at work, I had a chance to participate in a national book drop for teens in hospitals (and medical clinics) sponsored by YALSA. One of my professors asked for volunteers, so the five of us (four students and the professor) went down to a local adolescent clinic to drop off several boxes, bags, and a cart full of books. It was, to be frank, quite awesome. (Even though I did have to be in some pictures. Urgh.) Also, the guy-who-was-once-bearded came and he was very nice, but then I was all sad because he's not LDS and thus It Can Never Be.
The best part of all this, though, was that as we walked back to campus (the clinic was only about a 15-minute walk away), I had the chance to talk with my professor, who has this vast amount of experience working directly in the field, teaching in the field, and just generally being this amazing advocate in the field of services to youth. She's pretty much my hero, now. Later that day, when I was at school listening to a faculty candidate give a lecture, that professor came and sat next to me. I felt so priviliged! (Haha! I feel like I have a teacher crush, except it's not really a crush, just a 'I really like this teacher' feeling.) Yeah. I'm kind of a nerd.
Um. And then there was another reason why the day was fabulous, which took place after I finished the assignment at 3am, but I won't go into that.
So, then, this morning, I walked to class, feeling at one with the world, with the pains of the day before safely buffered by 5 1/2 hours of sleep, loving the breeze, drinking in deep draughts of the blossom-laden world. Then I got to class.
And I remembered that I was supposed to bring snacks to class today.
And that the nearest grocery store was a good 10-minute brisk walk away. And that class was going to start in 15 minutes.
So, I briskly made my way to the store and briskly made my way back with a bag of Sun Chips mashed into my backpack, and made it to my seat just in time to catch most of The Dewey Rap.
And I realized that life is just all mixed up.
I don't mean to say that life is crazy confusing (although it can be); what I'm saying is that it's a hodgepodge, a jumble, a clothing rack at a discount store, where you'll find the designer jeans next to a mumu your grandmother would scorn.
So maybe being happy really does mean learning to pick the little pieces of life that are enjoyable, and choosing to learn from the bad parts, while still not letting them make us unhappy. Or maybe even just choosing to be happy, whether life throws you librarians rapping about classification systems, or yet another broken fingernail.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Comment panic
So, I have this thing I do in class sometimes.
The professor is standing up there, talking about something important (like video games in libraries--it's a serious subject, people!) and then she asks a question of the class.
And the class just kind of sits there. Squirming.
And then I get this panicky feeling, like all the air is going out of the room and the only way to get air back into the room is to say something, so I do and...
I say something really dumb.
I, in fact, make a dumb comment. Or ask a stupid question (and no matter what your teachers tell you, they really do exist).
The worst part is that once you've started saying a dumb comment and you recognize it, you can't really stop; you just feel like you have to keep on going, as if you just keep talking somehow the words will twist themselves about and form the structure of a good comment, a smart comment, a wow, she's such a great library student comment.
And you end up in even more of a train wreck than where you started.
Ach, the agonies of studenthood.
(But really, I'm loving it.)
The professor is standing up there, talking about something important (like video games in libraries--it's a serious subject, people!) and then she asks a question of the class.
And the class just kind of sits there. Squirming.
And then I get this panicky feeling, like all the air is going out of the room and the only way to get air back into the room is to say something, so I do and...
I say something really dumb.
I, in fact, make a dumb comment. Or ask a stupid question (and no matter what your teachers tell you, they really do exist).
The worst part is that once you've started saying a dumb comment and you recognize it, you can't really stop; you just feel like you have to keep on going, as if you just keep talking somehow the words will twist themselves about and form the structure of a good comment, a smart comment, a wow, she's such a great library student comment.
And you end up in even more of a train wreck than where you started.
Ach, the agonies of studenthood.
(But really, I'm loving it.)
Thursday, March 20, 2008
How did I get so darn lucky?
You. You people. You people are the coolest people ever.
And one of you in particular (although you ALL are cool, really) is particularly cool right now.
To that person, I heartily say, "Well, blow me timbers! Thar be The Good Ship Bookend in the flesh! Er, wood. In the wood. On me shelf! Arr. It be good to see her there."
Also, "Thankee."
Also, "Good grief! That's holy amazing that you found that thing and WOW!" But, I don't know how to put that into pirate speak. Maybe it would be something close to "Yaargh!" I'm not really sure.
Also (to all you readers) I'm so sorry I haven't been posting much. I've just been hecka busy with school (even now I'm thinking, "I'm sure there's something I should be doing. There's always something. What the heck is it?!?) and assorted mundanities, which both leaves me less time for blogging, and a mind that is less occupied with thinking up blog topics and more occupied with trying to figure out which books I should toss out (theoretically, of course) for my collection development assignment and what I can say for a booktalk and when I can squeeze in the readings for cataloging that I've been neglecting lately.
But, I must tell you, I saw this charming thing on the T this evening. I was riding up to Harvard Square to meet a classmate to finish up a group project. On the seats just in front of me sat a young man (twentysomething) and a woman who looked to be in her late forties or early fifties who was, I'm guessing, his mom. I noticed the young man, of course, because he was excessively good looking. But I also noticed that they seemed to be having this really charming conversation where they'd laugh, and he'd kind of lean in and intentionally bump shoulders (his right, her left) with her a couple of times. I love that whole bumping shoulders business. It's a way of showing affection without getting too out of control--of a desire for contact, brief and rather humorous. I like it a lot.
And I wish all of you were here right now so I could talk and laugh with you and bump shoulders. Just a little bit.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Endless Universes
So, I've been reading the book Endless Universe: Beyond the Big Bang over the past few days (and yes, I am trying to impress you all by letting on that I'm reading cosmology theory (in NOVA-type very diluted form)) and (although I have this unfortunate tendency to fall asleep while reading it, which partially contributed to my missing 1/3 of church this morning) I have to admit, I find it rather wonderful.
Basically, the book takes a look at both the commonly taught model of the universe (the inflationary model) critiques it, and also introduces a new model (the cyclic model of the universe) that fits with the same astronomical observations and yet has (they claim) fewer problems than the inflationary model.
While I am certainly no cosmologist (I have trouble really visualizing some of the more intense theoretical stuff, like Higgs fields (which apparently make it possible for elementary particles to differentiate into the types we know today)), still the idea of the cyclic universe appeals to me much more than the inflationary model, simply from (oddly enough) an aesthetic and theological perspective.
The inflationary model claims, essentially, that time and space began at the Big Bang, that the universe rapidly expanded, then slowed, and now is undergoing a period of increasing expansion because of dark energy (all of which was explained in the book in a way that made me pretty much understand what dark energy is supposed to be, thank goodness). This increasing expansion will continue forever, until the universe is basically dead: all burnable fuel used up, all matter so widely distributed that space has become a virtual vacuum. And this state lasts forever.
While the cyclic model incorporates the same idea of the current universe as the inflationary model (that of rapid expansion after the Big Bang, gradual slowing and cooling, and a relatively recent period of increasing expansion due to dark energy), it differs from the other model in essential points. Instead of the universe being created at the Big Bang, the model claims that the event was only one in a series of cyclical events or periods that are endlessly repeating. Basically, the model makes the assumption (and I haven't yet discovered how the theorists provide a good reason for supposing this assumption is valid, but I'm only halfway through the book) that dark energy eventually decays when the universe is fairly homogenous (vacuum-like) in nature, and that then the universe gradually contracts until it reaches another Big Bang event, matter and energy are once again concentrated and distributed throughout the universe, and another period of creation begins.
So.
Here is why I prefer the cyclic model: firstly, it's just plain more hopeful. Thinking about the universe cooling and dying and expanding forever and ever and ever with no end is just plain depressing. It means that the majority of the creation of galaxies and other major astronomical structures is pretty much over and entropy wins in the end. That's a pretty bleak view. Whereas the cyclic model provides for an endless repetition of periods of creation. That's an inherently hopeful view, one I find fits more with my idea of how the universe should be. It's efficient (as opposed to the seemingly wasteful inflationary model) with no loss of matter/energy as the universe undergoes these cycles. That's the aesthetic appeal.
I also find that the cyclic model fits very comfortably indeed with my theological views. In the LDS scriptures, the phrase "one eternal round" comes up frequently and is always related to God, and always related to his course. I find it wonderful that there's an idea of the universe that plays into this idea of endless creation. Endless. Which means that God's work is wonderfully, beautifully, joyously, never finished. Which fits so much better into the cyclic model than the inflationary one. While I suppose the inflationary model could work with this idea of God (He'd just move on to another universe when this one was burned up, I guess), still, again, it feels inefficient and just wasteful. Using the same universe over and over again for works of creation seems to be wonderfully simple and beautiful.
So what does all this mean?
Nothing much.
I doubt I'll be able to tell after reading this book which, if either model, is more reliable, fits more with the astronomical evidence, or is more mathematically viable.
But I know which one I like, which one I'm rooting for. And whichever model is true (if either) the universe is more grand and strange and gorgeous and complex and simple than I can comprehend. And that's kind of wonderful in itself.
Basically, the book takes a look at both the commonly taught model of the universe (the inflationary model) critiques it, and also introduces a new model (the cyclic model of the universe) that fits with the same astronomical observations and yet has (they claim) fewer problems than the inflationary model.
While I am certainly no cosmologist (I have trouble really visualizing some of the more intense theoretical stuff, like Higgs fields (which apparently make it possible for elementary particles to differentiate into the types we know today)), still the idea of the cyclic universe appeals to me much more than the inflationary model, simply from (oddly enough) an aesthetic and theological perspective.
The inflationary model claims, essentially, that time and space began at the Big Bang, that the universe rapidly expanded, then slowed, and now is undergoing a period of increasing expansion because of dark energy (all of which was explained in the book in a way that made me pretty much understand what dark energy is supposed to be, thank goodness). This increasing expansion will continue forever, until the universe is basically dead: all burnable fuel used up, all matter so widely distributed that space has become a virtual vacuum. And this state lasts forever.
While the cyclic model incorporates the same idea of the current universe as the inflationary model (that of rapid expansion after the Big Bang, gradual slowing and cooling, and a relatively recent period of increasing expansion due to dark energy), it differs from the other model in essential points. Instead of the universe being created at the Big Bang, the model claims that the event was only one in a series of cyclical events or periods that are endlessly repeating. Basically, the model makes the assumption (and I haven't yet discovered how the theorists provide a good reason for supposing this assumption is valid, but I'm only halfway through the book) that dark energy eventually decays when the universe is fairly homogenous (vacuum-like) in nature, and that then the universe gradually contracts until it reaches another Big Bang event, matter and energy are once again concentrated and distributed throughout the universe, and another period of creation begins.
So.
Here is why I prefer the cyclic model: firstly, it's just plain more hopeful. Thinking about the universe cooling and dying and expanding forever and ever and ever with no end is just plain depressing. It means that the majority of the creation of galaxies and other major astronomical structures is pretty much over and entropy wins in the end. That's a pretty bleak view. Whereas the cyclic model provides for an endless repetition of periods of creation. That's an inherently hopeful view, one I find fits more with my idea of how the universe should be. It's efficient (as opposed to the seemingly wasteful inflationary model) with no loss of matter/energy as the universe undergoes these cycles. That's the aesthetic appeal.
I also find that the cyclic model fits very comfortably indeed with my theological views. In the LDS scriptures, the phrase "one eternal round" comes up frequently and is always related to God, and always related to his course. I find it wonderful that there's an idea of the universe that plays into this idea of endless creation. Endless. Which means that God's work is wonderfully, beautifully, joyously, never finished. Which fits so much better into the cyclic model than the inflationary one. While I suppose the inflationary model could work with this idea of God (He'd just move on to another universe when this one was burned up, I guess), still, again, it feels inefficient and just wasteful. Using the same universe over and over again for works of creation seems to be wonderfully simple and beautiful.
So what does all this mean?
Nothing much.
I doubt I'll be able to tell after reading this book which, if either model, is more reliable, fits more with the astronomical evidence, or is more mathematically viable.
But I know which one I like, which one I'm rooting for. And whichever model is true (if either) the universe is more grand and strange and gorgeous and complex and simple than I can comprehend. And that's kind of wonderful in itself.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Flat Stanley's Super Super Friday
Okay.
So, on Friday, I only took one picture with Flat Stanley, mostly because I spent the whole day being busy and rather bothered.
The day began in the early am hours with Stanley working furiously with me to finish up an assignment that was due at 8am Friday morning. Unfortunately, I had seriously misjudged how long the assignment would take me, so I stayed up most of the night working on it and well into the morning, snatching a couple of hours that I really should have skipped because I didn't actually finish the darn thing until about 12:30 Friday afternoon. So, blast. It was a little late.
At about 8 or 9am or so, realizing that my computer's tiff with the ISP at my apartment was not going to abate in time for me to complete the assignment, I decided to head off to the library on campus so I could use the wireless network there to finish everything up. Then, just as I was working on the reference list for the assignment (just finishing up, basically), the fire alarm in the library started blaring, and everyone had to be evacuated. Utterly fed up (and secretly convinced that the whole thing was due to some ignorant student opening up one of the emergency exit doors by mistake) I packed up my stuff and headed outside where I heard that there had been some sort of gas leak and they were evacuating the building as a precaution.
Whatever.
I had an assignment to finish!
Luckily, Flat Stanley was safely tucked inside my backpack (which I was not going to leave behind, lemme tell you) so he didn't get lost in the potentially blow-up-able building.
So, I went to another building on campus, where I reconnected to the wireless, finished the assignment and submitted it about a half hour before class started.
Yeesh.
Class was fine, but I felt slightly exhausted, and so didn't pay quite as much attention as I should have. And I neglected to take any pictures. (Sad.) However, the class took place in the same room as the first class of the week, so just check out the picture from that class again, and you should get an idea of where all this...Friday classness...happened.
Yep.
Uuuhmm...I'm pretty sure I went straight back to my apartment after that, because I was tired and hungry. Then, on the way back on the T, this elderly gentleman with some missing teeth leaned forward towards me and said, "You have such lovely green hair!" Wanting to be nice (and not weirded-out), I said, "Well, thank you!" and smiled. The elderly gentleman continued to exchange pleasantries such as kind of half acting a little crazy and then kind of half acknowledging that he was acting a little crazy and sharing a photocopy of a 'Dear Abby' column.
When he got off at my normal stop, I decided it would be prudent to just keep going on the train and get off at the next stop instead. He was nice, but I wasn't entirely sure whether the 'acting a little crazy' part was for real, and felt it would be wisest not to have him following me to my apartment. (So, so sad that the only compliments I get are from half-crazy old gentlemen. Ah, well. At least I get something.)
Anyway. So, I went one stop further and decided to walk back to my apartment rather than wait for a train going the other direction. It was a lovely, lovely late afternoon, with cool wet air, low and rushing clouds, and the waxing gibbous moon (my favorite phase) shining with strange clarity through the clouds, and so so white against the paling blue sky.
During the walk, I took my one picture of the day, when Stanley and I passed this awesome, awesome Victorian house with an awesome, awesome, old tree:
And that was it. That was the day. I think I went to bed at, like, 6pm. (Or maybe slightly later.) But, luckily, Stanley and I had one more day together...
So, on Friday, I only took one picture with Flat Stanley, mostly because I spent the whole day being busy and rather bothered.
The day began in the early am hours with Stanley working furiously with me to finish up an assignment that was due at 8am Friday morning. Unfortunately, I had seriously misjudged how long the assignment would take me, so I stayed up most of the night working on it and well into the morning, snatching a couple of hours that I really should have skipped because I didn't actually finish the darn thing until about 12:30 Friday afternoon. So, blast. It was a little late.
At about 8 or 9am or so, realizing that my computer's tiff with the ISP at my apartment was not going to abate in time for me to complete the assignment, I decided to head off to the library on campus so I could use the wireless network there to finish everything up. Then, just as I was working on the reference list for the assignment (just finishing up, basically), the fire alarm in the library started blaring, and everyone had to be evacuated. Utterly fed up (and secretly convinced that the whole thing was due to some ignorant student opening up one of the emergency exit doors by mistake) I packed up my stuff and headed outside where I heard that there had been some sort of gas leak and they were evacuating the building as a precaution.
Whatever.
I had an assignment to finish!
Luckily, Flat Stanley was safely tucked inside my backpack (which I was not going to leave behind, lemme tell you) so he didn't get lost in the potentially blow-up-able building.
So, I went to another building on campus, where I reconnected to the wireless, finished the assignment and submitted it about a half hour before class started.
Yeesh.
Class was fine, but I felt slightly exhausted, and so didn't pay quite as much attention as I should have. And I neglected to take any pictures. (Sad.) However, the class took place in the same room as the first class of the week, so just check out the picture from that class again, and you should get an idea of where all this...Friday classness...happened.
Yep.
Uuuhmm...I'm pretty sure I went straight back to my apartment after that, because I was tired and hungry. Then, on the way back on the T, this elderly gentleman with some missing teeth leaned forward towards me and said, "You have such lovely green hair!" Wanting to be nice (and not weirded-out), I said, "Well, thank you!" and smiled. The elderly gentleman continued to exchange pleasantries such as kind of half acting a little crazy and then kind of half acknowledging that he was acting a little crazy and sharing a photocopy of a 'Dear Abby' column.
When he got off at my normal stop, I decided it would be prudent to just keep going on the train and get off at the next stop instead. He was nice, but I wasn't entirely sure whether the 'acting a little crazy' part was for real, and felt it would be wisest not to have him following me to my apartment. (So, so sad that the only compliments I get are from half-crazy old gentlemen. Ah, well. At least I get something.)
Anyway. So, I went one stop further and decided to walk back to my apartment rather than wait for a train going the other direction. It was a lovely, lovely late afternoon, with cool wet air, low and rushing clouds, and the waxing gibbous moon (my favorite phase) shining with strange clarity through the clouds, and so so white against the paling blue sky.
During the walk, I took my one picture of the day, when Stanley and I passed this awesome, awesome Victorian house with an awesome, awesome, old tree:
And that was it. That was the day. I think I went to bed at, like, 6pm. (Or maybe slightly later.) But, luckily, Stanley and I had one more day together...
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Stanley visits the public library.
Well, all. Today was very, very, very, very rainy and wet and kind of miserable when you walked around in it wearing canvas shoes that soaked through approximately twenty seconds after you stepped outside and kept squelching when you walked.
Luckily, Stanley got through it okay by remaining safely tucked into books or notebooks that were, in turn, safely tucked into my backpack, which I tried my best to cover up with my umbrella.
It would, in fact, have been a perfect day to stay inside. However, I found that I needed some serious bookage. Some serious Young Adult (YA) Literature bookage, to be specific. And as we all know, the best place to find YA Lit is...
That's right! Your local public library! (And as I plan to work in a public library after graduation, I am particularly fond of recommending visits to 'em.)
So, Stanley and I made our way past rivers and ponds (previously known as roads and crosswalks) and made it to the local public library, where we perused the shelves in the YA room and came away with such notable titles as Fever 1793 by Laurie Halse Anderson, A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray, Bronx Masquerade by Nikki Grimes, and Just Listen by Sarah Dessen.
Of course, before leaving, I had to show Stanley my favorite spot to stop and peruse a magazine (like The Writer or Astronomy):
Then, Stanley and I came back to my apartment, where I put my shoes on the radiator in an attempt (which turned out to be futile) to dry them off before I left for class. In the interim, Stanley helped me muddle through the intricacies of the articles we were assigned to read for today's lecture:
Later, during class this evening, Stanley was good enough to take notes while I dozed off. (However, for all of you who like that idea, I encourage you to resist the impulse to have Flat Stanley take notes for you. Flat people don't seem able to hold pens very well.)
Finally, Stanley and I went to work, where we were pretty bored for several hours. When the shift ended at 1am, we took a taxi home to my apartment. (I would have taken a picture of the taxi driver, but...I felt kind of shy.)
Tomorrow's my day off, so, although I have errands to run and lots of homework to do, I'll try to find something interesting for Stanley and me to do as well.
Luckily, Stanley got through it okay by remaining safely tucked into books or notebooks that were, in turn, safely tucked into my backpack, which I tried my best to cover up with my umbrella.
It would, in fact, have been a perfect day to stay inside. However, I found that I needed some serious bookage. Some serious Young Adult (YA) Literature bookage, to be specific. And as we all know, the best place to find YA Lit is...
That's right! Your local public library! (And as I plan to work in a public library after graduation, I am particularly fond of recommending visits to 'em.)
So, Stanley and I made our way past rivers and ponds (previously known as roads and crosswalks) and made it to the local public library, where we perused the shelves in the YA room and came away with such notable titles as Fever 1793 by Laurie Halse Anderson, A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray, Bronx Masquerade by Nikki Grimes, and Just Listen by Sarah Dessen.
Of course, before leaving, I had to show Stanley my favorite spot to stop and peruse a magazine (like The Writer or Astronomy):
Then, Stanley and I came back to my apartment, where I put my shoes on the radiator in an attempt (which turned out to be futile) to dry them off before I left for class. In the interim, Stanley helped me muddle through the intricacies of the articles we were assigned to read for today's lecture:
Later, during class this evening, Stanley was good enough to take notes while I dozed off. (However, for all of you who like that idea, I encourage you to resist the impulse to have Flat Stanley take notes for you. Flat people don't seem able to hold pens very well.)
Finally, Stanley and I went to work, where we were pretty bored for several hours. When the shift ended at 1am, we took a taxi home to my apartment. (I would have taken a picture of the taxi driver, but...I felt kind of shy.)
Tomorrow's my day off, so, although I have errands to run and lots of homework to do, I'll try to find something interesting for Stanley and me to do as well.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Stanley goes to library school.
Hello, all.
Today Stanley went to, you guessed it, even more libraries.
First off, we went to work again, where (after my shift was over), we went to find that book we looked up on the computer yesterday.
So, first, we went to the Juvenile section of the library, then we found which set of shelves had the call number we were looking for (remember, the call number started with 'J B':
Then, we found the book on the shelf itself:
Way to go, Stanley! (Note, if you will, the subtle expression of humble triumph Stanley is sporting in this photograph.)
Stanley also met a stone owl named Minerva. I have no idea why she is named Minerva, nor why a stone owl resides in this library. These mysteries aside, Stanley thought she was pretty darn cool.
Righto. Well, after that, Stanley and I meandered off to Simmons, where we went to the library over there ("Good grief," cried Stanley. "Not another one!") and I made copies of some journal articles I was supposed to read and...didn't quite get through...and where I also checked out a course reserve book to read about ways to help teenagers who use libraries.
Then, at last, Stanley came with me to the building where most of the library school classes are held. Here's a picture of the outside (with the library school banner neatly displayed). (Also, just FYI, today was wretched cold, so those fingers holding Stanley up are freezing OFF.)
And here's a picture of Stanley inside the classroom:
(Don't worry about the lack of students; I just got there a little early, which is why the room's so empty-looking. But the two students you see in the background? Typically intelligent. Like pretty much every single library student. We're also a humble bunch.)
That's mostly it. Stanley and I went grocery shopping after class, and I bought bread, milk, eggs, cereal and bananas, and also rubbing alcohol because I tripped coming up the stairs at a T station yesterday, scraped my knee up and made it bleed through my jeans. I figured rubbing alcohol was a pretty good idea.
And now we're back at my apartment! So, I will bid you all adieu until tomorrow, when I will recount more adventures with the indefatigable Stanley.
Today Stanley went to, you guessed it, even more libraries.
First off, we went to work again, where (after my shift was over), we went to find that book we looked up on the computer yesterday.
So, first, we went to the Juvenile section of the library, then we found which set of shelves had the call number we were looking for (remember, the call number started with 'J B':
Then, we found the book on the shelf itself:
Way to go, Stanley! (Note, if you will, the subtle expression of humble triumph Stanley is sporting in this photograph.)
Stanley also met a stone owl named Minerva. I have no idea why she is named Minerva, nor why a stone owl resides in this library. These mysteries aside, Stanley thought she was pretty darn cool.
Righto. Well, after that, Stanley and I meandered off to Simmons, where we went to the library over there ("Good grief," cried Stanley. "Not another one!") and I made copies of some journal articles I was supposed to read and...didn't quite get through...and where I also checked out a course reserve book to read about ways to help teenagers who use libraries.
Then, at last, Stanley came with me to the building where most of the library school classes are held. Here's a picture of the outside (with the library school banner neatly displayed). (Also, just FYI, today was wretched cold, so those fingers holding Stanley up are freezing OFF.)
And here's a picture of Stanley inside the classroom:
(Don't worry about the lack of students; I just got there a little early, which is why the room's so empty-looking. But the two students you see in the background? Typically intelligent. Like pretty much every single library student. We're also a humble bunch.)
That's mostly it. Stanley and I went grocery shopping after class, and I bought bread, milk, eggs, cereal and bananas, and also rubbing alcohol because I tripped coming up the stairs at a T station yesterday, scraped my knee up and made it bleed through my jeans. I figured rubbing alcohol was a pretty good idea.
And now we're back at my apartment! So, I will bid you all adieu until tomorrow, when I will recount more adventures with the indefatigable Stanley.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Done! DoneDoneDoneDoneDone!
I'm DONE!
With writing that last paper, that is. I still have to get up in...approximately two hours to get to campus, print it out, then attend class. And then work.
And then a movie!
'CAUSE I'M DONE!
With writing that last paper, that is. I still have to get up in...approximately two hours to get to campus, print it out, then attend class. And then work.
And then a movie!
'CAUSE I'M DONE!
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
A brief breather:
Uh. I realize I haven't posted much this past week.
And it is because, you see, this is the last week of classes. And, due to my illness and subsequent obsessive watching of The Office, I...er...yeah.
I'm totally behind.
But I'm still in there. I'm still getting stuff done (by the skin of my little librarian teeth) and I'm still alive.
Just to let you know.
And yeah.
I really, really gotta go. (Work on homework, that is. Not. The other thing. You know.)
And it is because, you see, this is the last week of classes. And, due to my illness and subsequent obsessive watching of The Office, I...er...yeah.
I'm totally behind.
But I'm still in there. I'm still getting stuff done (by the skin of my little librarian teeth) and I'm still alive.
Just to let you know.
And yeah.
I really, really gotta go. (Work on homework, that is. Not. The other thing. You know.)
Thursday, December 06, 2007
If you don't like gross things then DON'T READ THIS POST!
Okay. Consider yourself warned.
I want to talk about how blasted amazing and rather awe-inspiring our bodies are, specifically the ability our bodies have to produce mucus.
Yes, mucus.
They sure can crank the stuff out!
I mean, you can blow your nose (emptying it, or so you would suppose) and within (I am not making this up) 60 seconds you can have a good ol' schnoz-full to blow into your already sodden and leaking tissue. (I TOLD you not to read this if you don't like gross things. You only have yourself to blame, you know.)
But I didn't really appreciate until this evening how blasted cool mucus can be. Did you know that mucus lubricates your digestive tract? And that it is antiseptic? And contains immunogoblins? (You can learn all this and more by reading Wikipedia's mucus entry.)
Makes you feel all respectful and stuff, doesn't it?
Yep. Mucus works hard. And our bodies work hard making it.
So really, the fact that I took a good chunk of yet another day off to finish up the second season of The Office doesn't mean I was being lazy, right? I was just giving my body a chance to rest up and keep churning out copious amounts of lovely, viscous, germ-trapping goo.
Go me.
I want to talk about how blasted amazing and rather awe-inspiring our bodies are, specifically the ability our bodies have to produce mucus.
Yes, mucus.
They sure can crank the stuff out!
I mean, you can blow your nose (emptying it, or so you would suppose) and within (I am not making this up) 60 seconds you can have a good ol' schnoz-full to blow into your already sodden and leaking tissue. (I TOLD you not to read this if you don't like gross things. You only have yourself to blame, you know.)
But I didn't really appreciate until this evening how blasted cool mucus can be. Did you know that mucus lubricates your digestive tract? And that it is antiseptic? And contains immunogoblins? (You can learn all this and more by reading Wikipedia's mucus entry.)
Makes you feel all respectful and stuff, doesn't it?
Yep. Mucus works hard. And our bodies work hard making it.
So really, the fact that I took a good chunk of yet another day off to finish up the second season of The Office doesn't mean I was being lazy, right? I was just giving my body a chance to rest up and keep churning out copious amounts of lovely, viscous, germ-trapping goo.
Go me.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Generating somethingorothers
So, I'm sitting here in my room and I want to write something for my blog because I haven't been exactly garrulous lately and it's been mainly due to vague feelings of almost-apathy hanging around like some sort of malignant-ish miasma and also not really having much to report, seeing as how I've been spending the majority of my days not working on the major projects that are due at the end of the semester and seriously catching up on my reading and
And.
Stuff.
Also, I buy this whole wheat bread that's really delicious and also it's interesting because it has these kind of broken up grains sprinkled all over the tops of the slices and so after I get finished eating my sandwiches or toast or whatever-something-that-involves-bread the plate has all these white bits of grain all over and if I moisten my finger (by plopping it in my mouth) and then use it to pick up all those bits of grain and them eat them they have a (not surprisingly) grain-type flavor but the texture's kind of interesting and also I think I'm weird.
Also, I like learning about libraries?
And also, I think I'm even stranger after midnight than usual.
And.
Stuff.
Also, I buy this whole wheat bread that's really delicious and also it's interesting because it has these kind of broken up grains sprinkled all over the tops of the slices and so after I get finished eating my sandwiches or toast or whatever-something-that-involves-bread the plate has all these white bits of grain all over and if I moisten my finger (by plopping it in my mouth) and then use it to pick up all those bits of grain and them eat them they have a (not surprisingly) grain-type flavor but the texture's kind of interesting and also I think I'm weird.
Also, I like learning about libraries?
And also, I think I'm even stranger after midnight than usual.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
From the trenches
I am in class right now. And I am surreptitiously blogging.
This is not perhaps as daring as it might sound; the professor is currently not in the room, and there are multiple conversations going on around me, so the level of guilt I feel at the moment is nice & low.
Of course, the prof could walk in at any time, which makes the anxiety level highish...
AND, here she is. So, I must be off to learn stuff and otherwise do all this wonderful library science stuff and goo.
Wish me luck!
This is not perhaps as daring as it might sound; the professor is currently not in the room, and there are multiple conversations going on around me, so the level of guilt I feel at the moment is nice & low.
Of course, the prof could walk in at any time, which makes the anxiety level highish...
AND, here she is. So, I must be off to learn stuff and otherwise do all this wonderful library science stuff and goo.
Wish me luck!
Saturday, November 03, 2007
What I write when I don't feel like writing anything:
Over the past however-long-it's-been-since-I-posted-last, I've had numerous little blog topics swim up into my consciousness, bask in the light for a bit, and then plunge back down into the deep waters of Stuff I Have Forgotten.
So while I've had oodles of spare time (mostly spent reading books and eating and watching Simon Schama's A History of Britain) I haven't really written anything, mainly because those swimming and diving ideas tend to dissipate in my enthusiasm level even more quickly than they dissipate in my memory.
Maybe I'm just in the doldrums: the semester midpoint, when the fresh ardor for classes has worn off, and the manic frenzy of finals has not yet set in, when the sky is gray and the sidewalks are wet and the only thing you really feel like doing is curling up with a long succession of mugs of steaming hot chocolate and books as thick as your rapidly expanding midriff.
And so, in a brief bow to mediocrity, let me present to you a poem I wrote the other day. Or perhaps the other week:
He holds the book one-handed,
other hand fingering a cigarette
which,
smiling,
he brings to his lips
as he turns a page,
back curved in a graceful arch
under which the book rests
like a door.
(And also, just so you know, I have not drowned from (the storm formerly known as) Hurricane Noel's potent fury.)
So while I've had oodles of spare time (mostly spent reading books and eating and watching Simon Schama's A History of Britain) I haven't really written anything, mainly because those swimming and diving ideas tend to dissipate in my enthusiasm level even more quickly than they dissipate in my memory.
Maybe I'm just in the doldrums: the semester midpoint, when the fresh ardor for classes has worn off, and the manic frenzy of finals has not yet set in, when the sky is gray and the sidewalks are wet and the only thing you really feel like doing is curling up with a long succession of mugs of steaming hot chocolate and books as thick as your rapidly expanding midriff.
And so, in a brief bow to mediocrity, let me present to you a poem I wrote the other day. Or perhaps the other week:
He holds the book one-handed,
other hand fingering a cigarette
which,
smiling,
he brings to his lips
as he turns a page,
back curved in a graceful arch
under which the book rests
like a door.
(And also, just so you know, I have not drowned from (the storm formerly known as) Hurricane Noel's potent fury.)
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