I declare conference season open

Conference season for libraries begins sometime in April and doesn't end for most librarians until the ALA Annual ends at the end of June. Just about every week and weekend you can find someone at your library that's out attending a conference or meeting. In April, ACRL (Association of College and Research Libraries), CIL (Computers in Libraries), and a variety of state library associations and user groups all had conferences. May means more user group meetings, NASIG, and more state library association meetings/conferences.

I have my first conference of the "season" this week. Well, it's not really a conference, but rather a very long meeting. A meeting that lasts for 2 days. CONSER has it's annual operations meeting the first Thursday and Friday of May each year. It's an opportunity to throw a bunch of catalogers in a small windowless room in the middle of the Madison Building of the Library of Congress and watch us duke it out over a variety of pressing issues. Think cage match with less blood but more drama.

This year they're adding an extra day for training on the "new" CONSER Standard Record. I say "new" because it's been in development for over a year now. We discussed it last year at the operations meeting, only it was called the "access level record" at that point. Not everyone is particularly happy with everything about the record, but you can't make everyone happy all the time or nothing gets done. Basically this record is the result of serials, oops, excuse me, continuing resources catalogers trying to simplify our rules and look to the future. But discussing it can be very interesting as people get very emotional. And I include myself in that statement. Don't ever accuse a librarian of being meek or quiet or afraid of confrontation. We're not. Just sit in on a meeting and you'll see. We are very passionate about what we do. VERY PASSIONATE.

Fortunately, I've been to enough events at this point that I do know most of the people attending. And after the meetings each day, there will be much "self medicating" with a variety of adult beverages together as well as dinners at the myriad of international restaurants nearby. Well, maybe not too much "self medicating," but there will be plenty of social time with my colleagues at a variety of institutions from all across the United States and Canada. It's a fantastic opportunity to network, and, for my type of specialized position that like for most means I'm the only one that does what I do at my institution, that networking is priceless. It means I have faces to go with the names I see on listservs and people to contact directly for feedback or someone I can ask my questions or another head to troubleshoot/solve issues/interpret the cataloging rules with when I need it.

Since the meeting is at the Library of Congress, it means the dog goes to the kennel and I travel to Washington, D.C. For the first time, I won't be flying. Philly is only a 2 hour train ride away from D.C., making the trip less expensive and much less stressful (I hate hate hate airport security...I have the WORST luck for always getting the "extra" screening). D.C. is an odd thing for me. I was born there, and lived in the area through most of elementary school. It always feels surreal to walk down the Mall and see the Smithsonians and the monuments. Kind of this I-know-exactly-where-I-am-but-don't-ask-me-for-directions-'cause-I-really-don't-know kind of thing. You know, most of the Smithsonian museums smell exactly the same as they did when I was 5 years old. It always amazes me how smell takes you back.

Happily, I'm not all on my own this trip. My good friend B (who visited E in New York with me this past February) is my counterpart at another institution. Seriously, we do pretty much the exact same job. This means we see a LOT of each other at various meetings and conferences, and end up spending way way too much time together during conference season. And lucky for us and everyone around us, we like each other and enjoy each others company and have yet to get sick of each other. Well, maybe not lucky for everyone else (peanut gallery, anyone?), but definitely lucky for us as we can be very self-entertaining if needed. Just read about the New York City trip if you don't believe me. Given previous years and trips, this trip to D.C. should be fun.

I promise to report on our adventures searching the city for good food (Ethiopian!) and beverages, our trips to Kramerbooks, and the general entertainment I'm sure will follow us where ever we go, if we don't create our own entertainment first.

Overheard while walking the dog at 11:30am

Dude 1 (looking up into the sky with both arms raised): "I am so focused I can see the WHOLE solar system. The whole thing...all them planets. I am THAT focused."

Dude 2: "Really?"

Dude 1 (with arms still raised, looks at Dude 2, and drops arms): "What, you can't?? Man, you gotta get focused!"

Um, yeah. I don't know what to say.

A rant about my ISP

It is time for a new ISP. That's it. I’m done. I can't stand sitting on hold for almost 30 minutes only to spend another 45+ minutes on the phone while you walk your way through whatever process your computer is making you go through AGAIN. I just can't. It's to the point of ridiculousness. And every time, we go through the same things, things I've already done BEFORE I CALLED but I have to do them again so they can enter something into their damn computer screen so we can move on. And every time, they tell me something completely different and contradictory than the last time I called. I feel like I'm chasing my tail, only, unlike my dog Aussie, I can't catch it so there's no end to the process.

My mother has always said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results. In terms of dealing with my ISP, I'm definitely becoming insane. I call (repeatedly), and I expect them to fix the problem because I’m paying them for reliable fast DSL service. And each time, it doesn't get fixed or the same problem reappears a few weeks or months later, so I call again, expecting them to actually fix it this time. And, repeat. Silly me.

This time the technician proceeded to read to me my entire call history with them, after lecturing me about being cooperative. So I explained that I know why I've called, and I've about reached the limit of cooperative, especially since I sat on hold for a good 25 minutes. (I just want the damn thing fixed so I never have to call you people again until my contract is up and I call to cancel so I can actually switch to a nice reliable ISP.)

Anyway, the call history. First, I moved from an area that was previously served by SBC before SBC was acquired by AT&T. The service there is still monitored/maintained by SBC, so I dealt with SBC people when arranging my transfer of service to my current area. I had to transfer it because, see, since SBC was becoming AT&T, and I was moving to an area that had AT&T service, I had to stay with them or face a $200 plus early termination fee, even though my contract still said SBC, I had yet to receive any formal letters about a change regarding my provider, not to mention I was still paying SBC, and oh yeah, SBC doesn't exist in my new area. But, OK. Fine. Whatever. Transfer the service.

Well, apparently the SBC people don't communicate well with the AT&T people, 'cause what they told me did NOT match the letter that AT&T sent me. There were some pretty major differences in terms of what kind of service contract I had signed up for (when did it change from a 1 year to a 2 year contract??) and my e-mail login to access said service was very new and different. So I called to find out what was going on. I got bounced around, disconnected not once, not twice, but THREE times, requiring me to call back and start all over (but I did learn my phone number from having to punch it in so many times), bounced around some more (how many departments can you send me to?? Wait, I already talked to them, so try again…hey, aren't you the person I talked to 15 minutes ago that sent me to the person who apparently just sent me back??), until I finally talked to someone that could fix it and clear up the miscommunication. I think I spent almost 12 hours on the phone over the course of 3 days.

Next I had installation problems. The CD-ROM they sent me didn't work, so someone had to walk me through it over the phone. Oh, and the password they sent me in the letter didn't work, so they had to give me a new one. Um, what kind of operation are you people running that you send your customers INVALID passwords??

Then I called because every time we had a severe rain storm, my DSL would go out, or at best, be intermittent. This is a problem. Thunderstorms are not unheard of here on the East coast. They're kind of frequent ALL F**KING SUMMER. But, according to the technician, it's an internal problem. Riiight. I get static on my line when it rains because I have a problem with the wiring IN MY WALLS. So we played switch the phone line from one jack to another until we got the connection to work. This happened more than once over a few weeks, which meant more than one phone call about the same problem. According to the technician, I called 3 times about the same problem. I already know this. But what are my options?? I'm tied to a contract. And when there's a problem with the service I'm paying for, and I've done everything in the help files that I can access (since I can't access the online help files if I can't get online, duh, and yes, I had to tell a technician this during one of the calls), the next step is to call. And spend time on hold. And more time chasing my tail with yet another technician.

And let's not forget having to rest my modem with a paper clip so they could "reprogram" it back in February (see post).

We had another rain storm today. A nice big thunderstorm. When I came home, my DSL was, once again, intermittent at best. And, once again, this technician told me something completely contradictory to the previous technician the last time I had this problem. Last time, phone jack A was bad, so I had to use B. "Do NOT use A, it is a bad jack and is why you're getting static on your line and having intermittent connection problems with your DSL."

Huh. So the weather outside is affecting the wiring in my walls, causing problems with my phone jacks. Problems that seem to only occur when the OUTSIDE lines get wet. Okay. Sure. I believe you (NOT). Convenient how this makes it my problem because it's inside lines rather than outside ones, and they recommended I look into replacing the wiring in my house (um, it's a RENTAL). Oh, and I got a lecture on how DSL signals work, "sharing" the phone line, blah blah, and NO SHIT, I ALREADY KNOW THIS SO CAN WE PLEASE MOVE ON.

Tonight, it was "Phone jack B is not showing a good signal" (apparently it's "troubling"), So, he had me unplug everything connected to a phone jack in the house (2 phones and my satellite TV receiver) to make sure there was no interference, he checked the line, and still, "B does not have a good signal" so we move the DSL line to phone jack A. Magically, phone jack A, the one I was told to never use for my DSL barely 6 months ago, now has an excellent signal. But, just to be sure, let's play switch the phone line from one jack to another. Move it back to B. Hm. B is still not showing a good signal. So move it back to A. "A is excellent" so I now should "ONLY use A, do NOT use B. But, monitor the connection for a few days, as it may change, and you might have to switch back to jack B, especially if it rains again."

WTF?? I JUST CAN’T STAND IT!!!

Any recommendations or suggestions about how I can get out of my contract with these people?? Please? Anyone?? HELP!!

My dog the "furry litmus test"

I read a variety of blogs, both for work and for fun. One of my fun ones is Crazy Aunt Purl, a 30-something divorced woman with four cats who knits and blogs about her life, or rather, getting on with her life post-divorce. And about her cats. I may not be divorced and I may not knit, but I can so relate to this woman. Sometimes I am convinced that there are cameras secretly taping my life so it can be turned into a sitcom, because some things just don't happen to people in real life. Ms. Crazy Aunt Purl has some of the same type of surreal experiences like running into metal filing cabinets in front of her cute boss or moments of complete inappropriateness in a variety of venues. Now, if I could only find the person doing the taping and writing the script, I could get in on the royalties and retire early. Oh, and lets not forget the co-stars...most of my friends are convinced they're being taped too, including my best friend from college. I'm pretty sure Ms. Purl might also be one of the co-stars. She, however, has written a book, which I intend to read when it's released in October, and which, come to think of it, could be converted into a script.

Friday she talked about dating, and how her cats impact her dating life. She described her cats as a "furry litmus test," both in terms of weeding out the guys that don't like cats from the start (or think she's a "crazy cat lady" for having 4 furry children) so she doesn't waste her time and that her cats have to like the guy when (or if) she decides to bring him home to meet them. Once again, can I just say how much I can relate to this woman?

Now, I don't have cats. My asthma specialist doctor threatened to come take them away from me if he found out I had cats (he's a scary little man I never want to cross, but he keeps me healthy). Apparently cats are the only thing I reacted to in the allergy testing so they can aggravate my asthma. Dogs, fortunately, I had no reaction to. I can have as many dogs as I want. But, frankly, I can barely handle the one I have. Aussie is a handful, but in a good way. She keeps my life interesting. Right now, I am actually in charge of the house, although I do have to remind Aussie of this on a regular basis (weekly, at least). I know, however, that if I ever got another dog, it would become her partner in crime and I would definitely be so NOT in charge it would be very very scary.

My dog, however, serves the same purpose as Ms. Purl's cats. Aussie is my "furry litmus test" for dating. One, anyone I date must love animals, and dogs specifically. If someone is freaked out about me having a dog, well, buh bye. Aussie is my "furry child" and has gotten me through a lot. What's better, our love for each other is unconditional...she'll always love me even when I'm sick and have snot running down my face. I even said to an ex once as he was breaking up with me: "this is why I have a dog. They don't leave, and they certainly wouldn't make up bullsh*t excuses if they did leave." We did eventually recover from his "head up his butt" moment and became friends, because ultimately, he's a good guy.

Which, actually, Aussie knew. She liked him from the start. He even showed up with a rawhide treat for her once, and she was more interested in licking his face and playing than the treat. She's an excellent judge of character. So, part two of the litmus test is: if my dog doesn't like you, I figure there's a good reason and, well, buh bye. I've tried being friends with and/or dating people that she didn't like, and I've learned that I need to trust her 'cause they all ended badly. She never did like my most recent ex, generally ignoring whatever commands were given to her and always looking to me for confirmation. She tolerated my ex's presence, but that's about it. And, as I discussed in a previous post, I'm still dealing with the aftermath of that "train wreck disguised as a relationship" (it messed me up but good). I should have trusted my dog, I know this, but I was foolish. Never again. Never again will I not respect my dog's opinion of someone.

One particular example of someone she definitely did NOT like is a guy I dated in grad school. It was a long distance thing. Long distance is never my idea of a good time, but I figured I'd give it a shot 'cause he seemed to be a good egg. Well, Aussie was not fond of him, as I learned on his first visit. She spent the entire visit trying to make sure she was always between us. Whether we were sitting on the couch or standing up, she'd force her way between us, and bark incessantly when he hugged me. [Me, internally: "Hm. I think she's trying to tell me something."] She made her dislike even more painfully (to him) clear by literally knocking him on his a**. We were at the beach, and she was running around chasing the waves. Abruptly, she stopped, turned, focused on him, and CHARGED. Full steam ahead. Getting hit by my dog who's a solid bundle of very strong muscle is like getting hit by a freight train. I know, we've collided running around playing in the yard before and I've had bruises, big black bruises. But running into me was never intentional, always accidental, and she always apologized by attacking my face with her tongue and rolling over all submissive-like. With this guy, it was personal and very much intentional. She CHARGED him. He, trying to think quick, jumped to avoid her. Foolish foolish boy. She leaped (she can clear a 3 ft. fence with room despite her short legs) and clipped him at the knees, sending him tumbling head over heels into the sand. He did not land softly. Aussie landed, turned, barked at him, and trotted over to me, head high and tail wagging, quite obviously proud of herself. The message was clear: "Mom, DITCH this guy!!" She was right. So I did, and life got much better.

I think everyone should have a "furry litmus test" for dating and even for friendships. Cat, dog, gerbil, bunny rabbit (hi, sis!), whatever. Just get you something to help you weed out the bad eggs in this world. So consider yourself warned...you must pass the dog "furry litmus test." And, no, Aussie does not accept bribes. She's too loyal to me and me only.

I love my dog. Aussie rocks.

OZOMATLI!!!

Last night was the Ozomatli concert at World Cafe Live here in Philly.* Wow. I mean, really, WOW. My legs hurt from all the dancing. And let's just say that my bike ride into work today was not the most pleasant. But I have the Ozo buzz going on, and like usual, it should last a few days. Woot!

Ozomatli is this wonderful fusion of Latin, hip hop, funk, punk, Middle Eastern sound and other random world music. It's beautiful. And very dance-able. You can't help but have a lot of fun. And the band is always high energy. You can tell they're really enjoying themselves up there. I brought a new Ozo fan to the show, AH, and she commented on how the entire band was smiling the entire show. It's obvious they're having a good time, which means the audience has a good time. She was particularly impressed with the coordinated dancing done by the band...both halves of the stage jumping and dancing in sync, often while playing instruments. Um, wow. Not an easy thing to do, but I've seen it happen every show.

The other truly beautiful thing about Ozo is the diversity of the audience they attract. Their music is such an eclectic blend of styles that they attract and eclectic blend of people. Looking around from my spot in the front and slightly to the right of center, I saw a wide range of ages (including set of parents that brought their son), races, backgrounds, styles, and dancing abilities. A true cross-section of society, much like the band themselves (a very diverse group of guys).

Ozo has a new album out, Don't Mess with the Dragon, and most of the set was from it. They even started with one of the songs off it: "City of Angels." They came on stage and set the show to be their typical high energy let's all have a good time and dance the night away right from the first drumbeat. WOW, they so rock.

[How many times can I say wow in one post? Let's find out, shall we??]

Mid-set they did a weird little mix of songs from the '80s like Blondie's "The Tide is High" and a few others that were like a trippy little journey down memory lane. And of course the audience sang along. What's freaky is that we all knew the words.

What's equally as freaky is that I still remember how to do the electric slide. The little trip down memory lane was just to prime the crowd. For "After Party," Ozo challenged the audience to dance the electric slide for the entire song. And, 'cause Philly rocks, we did it. "After Party" is one of my favorite songs off the new album. You just can't go wrong with a song about coming together and enjoying yourselves. It's a bit more mellow than most of their stuff, but with the same let's-all-have-a-good-time-vibe and rockin' beat that makes Ozo so much fun. Again, WOW. I love this song and it's even better live. [But then, isn't everything better live with Ozo??]

"Magnolia Soul" and "Violeta" are two of their social justice focused songs on the new album. For those of you that don't know, Ozomatli is from Los Angeles, and they have a serious social justice aspect to what they do and their music. These news ones are absolutely incredible songs. "Magnolia Soul" is a funk-inspired song that highlights the tragedy of Hurricane Katrina and the resilience of New Orleans in the aftermath. The ballad of "Violeta" echoes the tragedy of life lost in war, on both sides, making it an incredibly moving song. "Violeta" was one of the few ballads they played during the set. So much of Ozo's repertoire is high energy, that when they do have a ballad it's particularly noticeable. In this case, it is also particularly moving. They also played "Temperatura," which address immigration. Again, attacking political issues via an inspired and upbeat tune with some serious rabble-rousing lyrics.

The mixed some of their classics (or even vintage) tunes in with the songs from the new album. True old school songs like "Eva" and "Misma Cancion" were interspersed between new stuff. They played two of my all time favorites: "Believe" and "Ya Viene el Sol," which aren't really old school but definitely classic Ozo. And as always with these songs, WOW.

At the end of every show, the whole band grabs various percussion instruments and horns and heads off the stage into the crowd for a jam session. No joke. EVERY SHOW. Often, this is where it ends, because there's no place else to go. This time, however, it only started as a circle in the middle of the dance floor. Wil-dog (bass player extraordinare...can you salsa dance, jump and strum all at the same time without missing a beat or a chord? Yeah, I didn't think so) led the band in a line snaking its way through the crowd and out into the lobby where they took up residence on the steps and jammed for a bit more.

Once they were finally done (exhausted, maybe?), they all stuck around to chat with the audience and sign whatever people gave them. Really, WOW. They even included a tear out sheet in the booklet for Don't Mess with the Dragon that promised they'd all sign it if you brought it to a show. So I did. And I got it signed by everyone (except Asdru, vocals/trumpet, who disappeared). Along with the set-list I managed to snag off the stage at the end of the show. Go me!

So life is good. I may be tired and sore, but, damn, what a party! My Ozo buzz is still going strong (fueled a bit by my iPod), but, seriously, WOW. What more is there to say besides THANK YOU to Ozomatli for a bloody awesome and absolutely rockin' and intensely high energy show!??!!

*Note: pictures will be posted over on my Flickr account later tonight, so go check them out! Be warned, the on stage shots of the guys were taken with my camera phone (flash photography prohibited by the venue), so the quality isn't excellent, but hell, they're pics of the band!

New music month, or, a love post about Nine Inch Nails

Earlier this month (April 3rd) Ozomatli released their new album, Don't Mess with the Dragon. It rocks. It's fun and exciting and has a great (and infectious) beat. Like all their albums. I've been listening to it and dancing while I do my housework. It's so much more fun to vacuum when you're doing a salsa at the same time. Really. Try it. You'll see.

Today (TODAY!!) Nine Inch Nails released Year Zero, less than two years after With Teeth. Trent Reznor did some serious viral marketing on his latest album, to the point of catching the attention of "non-fans" like the big guys at Google (Matt Cutts) and Rolling Stone. He left USB drives for people to find at concerts, giving fans pre-releases of tracks from the new album and leading them a neat little "down the rabbit hole" chase through the web. A series of websites linked from one to the other, all leading fans through a network of ideas (and a vision of the future), while keeping them interested and guessing. Messages were hidden on t-shirts and buttons. Listening parties (hear the full album before the release!) were held where fans were given more "clues" to the website maze. All in all, quite brilliant. Fans used webpages/fanpages (examples here and here), message boards and wikis to keep each other informed. And Trent has encouraged it all. It has been fascinating to watch, and it's still going. It's not done yet. It's still evolving. There are more "clues" on the album, in the CD booklet, the cover art, and on the physical CD itself ("thermachrome" art that is only visible when the disc is warm, how cool!). Oh, and let's not forget, the entire thing is a commentary on the possible state of the future world, it's a make-believe and rather bleak future where the government has control of it's citizens via a drug they put in the water called parepin (do a Google search for it, I dare you...).

I'll be buying the album, regardless of the marketing, but that's because I'm a long term fan (think back to the beginning of NIN with Down In It and Pretty Hate Machine in 1989) and I buy ALL the albums. Trent's been doing viral stuff for awhile, one example being the lyrics to With Teeth, which were made available via a PDF file that linked one song to another using colored text (there was no booklet with the album). From what I understand via interviews, it's not about selling records for Trent, it's really about the music. So making it possible for fans to listen to the entire album (which he did) prior to release might seem insane, but I wasn't at all surprised. In one of my favorite interviews with Trent he talks about how when he gets a new album, he turns off the phone, sits down, and listens to the entire album from start to finish. He has to experience the album and the music as a whole. Because, ultimately, it's about the music. And I happen to agree wholeheartedly (as someone that really does get "lost" listening to music as much as I do when reading a book).

Overall Trent has really tapped into the web2.0 market and made the music an experience that the fans participate in and help shape. I have so much respect for that. He's reinvented himself and the band over and over, constantly growing as an artist and musician. Nine Inch Nails has blogs (yes, plural), a MySpace page, fan sites that are detailed, and an ever evolving main website complete with a "resources" page that has exterior links. Not to mention downloads galore for those that want them. You have desktop wallpaper, sound files that fans can remix and then upload back to the main site (granted, in Garageband for Macs, but still...), song lyrics, and so much more. It takes the music beyond and really engages the fans, making them active listeners, not just passive receivers. Which, in a nutshell, is what web2.0 is all about, engaging users. Year Zero as an album in particular is supposed to be more than just the album, everything, including the websites, is Year Zero. It's a whole package: image, story, future world, music, all tied together; every piece is significant (although the music is the ultimate expression). And it's not done yet. It's still evolving.

Oh, and if anyone's interested, Year Zero (the album) rocks. Different than every album that came before, and just as incredible. I'm in love with NIN all over again (happens every time I hear a new release). It's distinct in its sound from the other albums/releases, yet without betraying its roots so you can still tell it's Nine Inch Nails. Truly reflects the ever evolving nature of Nine Inch Nails as a musical entity.

What is up with the weather?

This is not supposed to be a blog about weather. Yet, the screwy winter we've had here in Philly has vexed me week after week.

I was all set to blog about the window air conditioner I got via Freecycle, and the nor easter blows in. So here I am, with a nice new-to-me air conditioner sitting on my floor waiting to be installed in my bedroom window in anticipation of the sultry Philly summers, and horizontal snow outside my window this morning. Yes, HORIZONTAL snow. I'm not joking. And, yet again, I have at least an inch of slushy snow on my car.

Sigh. I just put away my scarf and hat last week. This morning I nearly pulled them out again and really should have. My face was so cold by the time I made it to the bus stop I couldn't feel my nose. My staff person at work told me this morning she bowed to the weather and pulled out her heavy winter coat again. It's mid-April. This is wrong. Today is the Boston Marathon and the organizers are saying that in 30 years they've never seen weather like this. I can't imagine running against the wind (with gusts to between 30 and 50 miles per hour!) and rain/snow we've got here in the Northeast right now.

[I can't imagine running a marathon, period, but with weather like this I really can't imagine voluntarily spending hours running into the wind with snow/rain hitting you in the face and chest. No thank you, I'll pass.]

And it just seems silly for me to be so excited about an air conditioner. But I am. Because I know come July, I'll be very very happy to have it. As will my dog. I have ceiling fans in all my rooms, but they can only do so much when the humidity sets in, which I know it will (despite the nor easter we've got right now). Being able to cool ONE room in the house so my dog doesn't get heat stroke and I can get sleep is priceless. So finding an air conditioner via Freecycle is like a gift from heaven. It may be old, but it was free, and it works. All I had to do was go pick it up. I can do that. I'll give it a good cleaning and we'll be good to go when summer arrives. What more can I ask for?

Besides spring. I'd really like it to be spring.

On being competent

Competent. Having suitable or sufficient skill, knowledge, experience, etc., for some purpose; efficient; properly qualified. Also adequate but not exceptional.

I am competent at a lot of things. I even have a picture with a little engraved plaque from sailing camp in junior high where I was awarded "Most Competent." Generally, when it comes to athletics, I'm competent. I can play soccer, but I'm never going to be first string or be the star player. Basketball, competent. Swimming, yup, you guessed it, competent. In rugby, I am (or was) maybe maybe a little above competent. I have pretty damn good (rugby) ball handling skills, quick hands when passing the ball, and my passes hit their mark. But I'm never going to be on some big national team or earn awards. I'm never going to be a star. I'm excellent support and a good player to have on your team because I have sufficient skills, but that's it.

There's nothing wrong with being competent. It's a good thing. It means you can do stuff successfully, complete tasks, get things done. I like being competent. With some things, I like to think I'm a bit better than competent, like in my chosen career of cataloging, or when it comes to cooking (I'm a damn good cook, thankyouverymuch), to give two examples. But generally, I'm competent. I get the job done. Competence can also be considered being reliable, and I like being reliable.

But sometimes, competency is a curse. It's a curse because people give you things to do. They assume that because you're competent you'll get the job done, and well, they're right, you will. Competent people often end up being the "go to" people for projects. Competent people end up doing a lot of random tasks because they have sufficient skills to complete them successfully. This has been the recent trend in my life. Because I'm competent, I've been doing a lot of random things. Things that make me say: "WHY is this mine to do??" Well, I'm competent. I have sufficient skills so I'm going to figure it out and get it done.

I've spent the past few days wrestling with HTML and page layouts. I'm not a web coder. I've never been a web coder. CSS is not something I ever really understood before (but I do now, believe me). I can read code, figure it out, even write very very basic code, especially when I have resources to remind me of what some of the tags are and I have people to ask for help (which, thankfully, I do have, and I've been using them...I owe a lot of people cookies as thank yous right now). I might even go as far as to put HTML/XML down as a "skill" on my resume because I can do it, I'm just not a superstar at it and it takes me some time. I'm learning lately that I can read lots of different types of code, including PERL. But I wouldn't necessarily put PERL down as a skill on my resume. Now, I do consider myself a coder, but a cataloging coder using MARC, Machine Readable Cataloging. This is not HTML. It's a completely different kind of metadata and code than HTML, but still putting metadata in a code form. But because I'm competent, meaning I'm capable of figuring it out and eventually writing the HTML code and doing the page layouts successfully, because HTML could be considered a "skill" because I do have sufficient knowledge, I have a project. And it's making me crazy.

Sometimes, I'd just rather not be considered competent.

On books and reading

Kurt Vonnegut died yesterday. I remember reading him for the first time in high school. Slaughterhouse Five was required reading. I loved it. Also required that year was George Orwell's 1984. Heavy stuff for teenagers, but, I believe, good in that they made us all think (well, at least it made me think).

I've been reading and thinking about what I'm reading or what I've read my whole life. And no, my love of reading is not why I became a librarian. My mom says I started reading at about age 2. One of her favorite pictures of me is from around that time. I have pigtails in and am reading with a frown on my face and a pair of Mr. Potato-head glasses perched on my nose. I was a very serious reader. Still am. I still frown when I read. I always have and probably always will. It's unconscious, and try as I might, I can't not frown when I read (I've tried, I lose my place on the page). I also get very absorbed in what I'm reading...to the point that I don't hear anything around me. I swear I'm not intentionally ignoring you, I'm just deep into my book.

My parents, to their credit, gave me free reign over the bookshelves in the house. Nothing was off limits. And they made themselves available to discuss things I read should I want or need to talk about it. This was especially helpful when I read one of the books from my dad's collection on the Vietnam War, or a book on feminism or socialism or democracy. Even a Tom Clancy novel. Our discussions were often an exchange of ideas or debates, heady stuff for a child. But it encouraged me to think about what I was reading and what it meant to me. They never told me that my ideas were wrong, I just had to have a solid foundation for them so I could defend them ("just because" was never a valid reason in our house). They just wanted me to think for myself, one of the best gifts they've ever given me.

This exchange of ideas and books is still going on today with my parents. Packages are often sent with books in them and arrive that way too. You can tell the books from my parents because they usually clip out a book review or two and place them in the book when they give it away. They'll even send along a review after the fact so it can be put in the book. I do the same thing. Our phone conversations almost always involve a discussion or a comment about a book we recently read or are reading or an interesting book review we saw. Since we all have vastly different tastes in literature, this exchange has added considerable breadth to my reading lists. Breadth I welcome, it balances out the depth I have in certain genres and languages.

When people ask me my favorite author, I can never pick just one. I have many. It depends on my mood, my "goal" in reading the book (escape? thought? research?), what I've read recently, genre, topic, etc. The things I read originate from all around the world and are in multiple languages and cover everything from "chick lit" to serious non-fiction. I have authors I love to go back to, again and again, like Jorge Luis Borges or Ray Bradbury. I have authors who's latest work I snap up as soon as I can like Nick Earls, or Jeanette Winterson, or Isabel Allende (see? never can list just one!). But this list is never constant, it changes from week to week, month to month, year to year. And like all readers, I have lists of authors I'd rather not read again. I never say "no" to an author until after I've read more than one work by them. At this point, I can say with confidence that I am not a fan of the following: Charles Dickens (after 5 works), William Faulkner (after 3 1/2 works, couldn't make it through the 4th work) and Gabriel Garcia Marquez (read everything he's done, many more than once, particularly tortuous because we read him a LOT in my classes for Spanish lit degrees). Fortunately, the list of authors I'm not fond of is short, and doesn't change very often.

Today, April 12th, is Drop Everything and Read Day, or Beverly Cleary's birthday. Ramona Quimby was just one of my favorite characters as a kid. I still have my Beverly Cleary books in a box with all my other favorite authors from my childhood: Zilpha Keatly Snyder, Judy Blume, Cynthia Voigt, and lots and lots of other joys. Other authors I read as a child, for example, Margaret Atwood, Ursula LeGuin, Madeleine L'Engle, J.R. Tolkien, and Isaac Asimov, are still on my ever growing bookshelves. And despite the ever growing pile of "books to read" on the floor, and the ever growing file of book reviews of books I want to read, I still go back and re-read my favorites, even if it means pulling them out of boxes temporarily. Often I see new things in these books, sparking new thoughts and new discussions. And reading them is still a joy. And that's the way reading should be, always.

So in honor of D.E.A.R. Day and Kurt Vonnegut's memory, turn off the television and read a book tonight instead.

Easter basket in a box

I arrived home today to a box on my porch. A distinctive box. One that indicated that it came from Australia. Woot! Goodies!

My mom sent me Easter candy. Essentially, it's an Easter basket in a box. I love you, Mom! You rock!

In addition to a rockin' t-shirt from the XXXX Brewery (Queensland beer!), the package was filled with lots and lots of chocolate. The food of the gods. Several varieties of Tim Tams (which are heavenly, and I require regular shipments to prevent Tim Tam withdrawal). Caramel filled chocolate eggs. Candy coated milk chocolate eggs. A dark chocolate egg with dark chocolate coated candied ginger in it, which is my current "I just can't get enough" variety of chocolate.

And the annual chocolate Easter Bilby. Yes, a bilby. NOT an Easter bunny. Because, in Australia, rabbits are a pest. They have no natural predators. Which means they flourish, and have become a serious pain in the rear for ranchers, devastating crops and grazing lands. So they don't have an Easter Bunny. They use Easter instead to draw attention to a native animal, the bilby. And the Darrell Lea company makes Easter Bilbies in milk chocolate, dark chocolate and white chocolate.

Not one chocolate Easter bilby has arrived intact. Not one. My mom's been doing this for a good 10 years now, and every bilby arrives in pieces. Apparently the turbulence on the flight is just too much for their delicate sensibilities. Fortunately, the chocolate still tastes just as good.

Also included was the amazing Flat Pack Chocolate Easter Egg from Bloomsberry & Co. Some assembly required! And the package even provides instructions...but you have to provide your own egg-shaped mould. They also provide a disclaimer that reads:

IMPORTANT NOTICE: The makers of the amazing Flat Pack Chocolate Easter Egg offer no warranty either explicitly or implied as to the success of your endeavors when attempting to assemble this process. As you can imagine, working with chocolate is not east and requires a high level of skill. Therefore your chances of completing the task to a satisfactory standard are, in a word, slim. We've never managed it.

But the chocolate it is made of all fair trade ingredients. Frankly, I'm not going to bother to take the time to try to make the egg. Too much work. I'm just gonna eat the chocolate.


Excuse me, I have to go stuff my face with Easter chocolate goodness now.

This is Spring?

You know how I mentioned that Spring had headed South for Easter weekend? Yeah.

We had snow flurries this afternoon. Nothing stuck, but it was definitely snow flurries. Light fluffy stuff twirling through the sky. It looked pretty with the sun peeking through the clouds and glinting off all the tiny little snowflakes floating in the air. But it was still SNOW. Otherwise known as ICE CRYSTALS. I took a couple of pictures because I couldn't believe it.

Easter is tomorrow. I'm sure we had snow a couple of times when I was little, there may even be a couple of pictures of my sister and I in our fancy Easter clothes standing in the snow in front of the house. But that's not what comes to mind when I think of Easter. Easter for me means flowers and new dresses with short sleeves and new shoes. Blooms and buds on the trees. Spring. A time of birth and rebirth, and new growth and regrowth. Warmth and sun and blue sky and lots and lots of colors, lots of different shades of green on the ground and in the trees, and don't forget the colored eggs.

Color. Lots and lots of color. NOT white snow. The only white is on your shiny new shoes and crisp white dress gloves and, if you're lucky enough to get one, your fancy Easter hat with the big satin ribbon on it. [OK, so I think I only had a hat ONE year, and I remember wearing it drove me nuts, but Easter still makes me think of fancy hats.]

And we have SNOW. I hope the Easter Bunny (or Easter Bilby for those in Australia) has an extra thick winter coat with a hat to keep his ears warm. And little booties for his poor cold little paws as he hides all those eggs.

Now I understand why the Easter Bunny always hid eggs INSIDE the house and not outside in the yard when I was little.

Of neighbors and careers

My neighbors have been very neighborly lately. I can think of several possible reasons for this:

a) After 7 months they've realized that I'm not going anywhere, despite the "transitional" nature of the neighborhood (Mom, Dad, don't worry, transitional as in an UPSWING) which means they've "accepted" my presence (I think this is a good thing, personally)

b) They've seen more of me lately since the weather is nice (YAY! Spring!) and I've taken to sitting on my porch after work [although it appears Spring has decided to take a nice little vacation to the South for Easter weekend so this practice will be suspended until the temperature climbs back into Spring-like temperatures]

c) I look like I need help (this is entirely plausible)

I think it might be a combination of all three. They've been talking to me more lately: saying "hi" as I walk the dog, walking over to talk while I'm sitting on the porch, offering to tell me what the "good" take-out and delivery places are, offering to draw me maps to the local grocery stores, etc. One even offered me BBQ chicken the other night. I have one neighbor that keeps telling me he's going to send his sons over for tutoring. He's been saying this ever since he found out I was a librarian. Apparently librarian = teacher for him. I don't quite understand this, but ok, it's better than other things he could assume.

This assumption that I am or have been a teacher is a theme in my life lately. I've had what I consider to be two careers in my life: 1) Student/grad student (which equals taking classes while desperately trying to scrape together enough money to take more classes and eat without going too far into debt), and, 2) Librarian (which equals trying to pay off said debt and eat on the typical salary of a librarian, which is lower-than-the-average salary for someone with the same level of education that a librarian is required to have - a Masters degree. One does not become a librarian for the money, trust me.)

I'm very lucky to have found a career right out of the starting blocks that I enjoy and makes me happy, that I have a talent for (at least a talent for my chosen field within librarianship, which has many many diverse fields in it), and that I'm passionate about. I watched my dad go through 16 jobs covering several different careers in the first 20 or so years of my life, trying to find that fit. He did find it, but it obviously took him awhile. I found my career with a perfect "fit" right out of college.

Lately I've been doing a lot of teaching (I use the term loosely). My library is migrating to a "new" software this summer not by choice, but due to merger. This software has always been there, but no one at my current library has really been using it, they've always used that "other" software. In contrast, this "new" software is all I used at my previous jobs, dating all the way back to my days as a student worker and intern (almost 10 years ago now). So I was asked to put together a series of sessions to train the people that will have to start using this software (whether they like it or not). Kind of a "software 101" type thing for everyone, from the basic "all I need it to do is x and y" users to the "power users" (not an easy thing to accomplish, FYI). This morphed into 2 basic topics for all user levels, doing 4 one hour sessions on each topic to break the 70+ people up into manageable groups, PLUS more sessions on other topics for smaller "power user" groups in the near future. Whew.

And lets not forget the handouts, all of which now need to be put on our internal staff web pages. Somehow, me sending a message asking who I send the Word docs to so they can be put online translated into me getting a password to the staff pages so I can create, post, edit, and maintain a page myself. Apparently I blinked. Oops. [Notes to self: don't blink ever again at work and dig through boxes to find that HTML for Dummies quick reference book this weekend, I'm a little rusty on my tags.]

Fortunately, the sessions have gone well so far. The flip side of them going well is that I do still have to do more on specialized topics. In addition, after these sessions, I've had various people come up to me and tell me some combination or pieces of the following: I speak clearly and with authority (thanks, Mom and Dad, the authority thing is all YOUR fault) but while not being intimidating, I also stay approachable so people don't mind asking me questions, and I break things down well so they're understandable. I'm good with this information (or complements, whatever you want to call it). It's great to hear and those are all things I strive to do well, so the affirmation that I'm succeeding is really really nice.

Then things get weird. They ask me if I used to be a teacher. Um, no. Not ever. I've tutored, and I've team-taught a workshop or two, but no, I've never been a teacher. That's usually answered with a "well, you could be, you'd be a good one." Um, thanks. The first time I was asked about my "teaching" background I was surprised and a little frightened, by person number 5, not so surprised anymore, but still a little frightened. Even more weird and scary, when I've shared this with various friends, they've all AGREED with it and told me it's occurred to them, too. Hm. Interesting. And frightening. At the same time.

I guess if this librarian shindig stops working for me, I could have a third career, as a teacher.

My dog the white bullet

The weather is gorgeous. It's in the mid-70s, sunny, nice breeze. Perfect for sitting on the porch and enjoying a beverage. So that's what my dog and I did. After trimming her nails and giving her a good brush (time to shed that winter coat...ye GODS why aren't you BALD??), Aussie and I sat down on the steps to watch the neighborhood kids run/bike/roll up and down the street. And I had my beverage in a nice little cooler sleeve so it didn't get warm. I even brought out an old dog bed so Aussie didn't have to lay on the cement.

So we were enjoying ourselves, our feet and her nose in the sun, when suddenly Aussie became a white bullet that shot past my shoulder and off the porch down the steps to the sidewalk at the speed of light. My first thought: "where's the damn cat??!" followed closely by "squirrel??!" and a very loud verbal "SHIT!!"

It wasn't a cat. Nor was it a squirrel.

It was a chihuahua. A chihuahua being walked by a very large (maybe 6 feet tall) athletic looking man. Who proceeded to scoop his chihuahua up to protect it from my white bullet of a freak dog who's tail was now wagging faster than reality allows. The very nice yet very large athletic man was afraid Aussie was going to eat his chihuahua.

Aussie just wanted to make friends. I can convince her to ignore the cats (street cats who would kick her ass given half a chance) and even stay put for the squirrels, but not for another dog who could potentially be her friend. Given the remote possibility of making friends with another dog Aussie ignores all commands and will become a white bullet flying over my shoulder. My dog the social butterfly.

And all of this apparently occurred for the amusement of my neighbors. Who laughed heartily as I dragged Aussie back onto the porch and gave her a good lecture. Because anyone that knows my dog knows that the only thing you can do is reason with her. She doesn't respond to "commands" unless they are in complete sentences. No joke. I think my neighbors are now convinced I'm quite possibly insane.

I'm so glad my dog and I can be a source of entertainment for the neighborhood.

Day off

I took a day off from the world today. I didn't talk to anyone, see anyone, or interact with the outside world. I didn't even read my e-mail messages or send an e-mail until the very end of the day. The only creature I talked to was Aussie.

You know what, I really needed it.

I've been running full throttle for a few weeks now, and hadn't really had a whole lot of down time. There are several additional investigations regarding my identity theft, which is emotionally taxing having to tell my story over and over again to various investigators and insurance companies. I thought it was over when my credit report was wiped clean, but apparently I was wrong. There's a lot going on at work. I've been teaching some workshop-type sessions to a total of 70+ people, and I have another set of them this week, on top of my regular duties and in addition to the other various projects, of course. None of this is bad, it just means adding another ball to the ones I'm already juggling. And it's all good stuff, there's just a lot of it right now (when it rains it pours, right?). I had company last weekend, but that meant I was busy all weekend. I love company, but it means doing a lot and going lots of places, and it tends to be intense (emotionally and by being busy) since they're only visiting for a few days and you try to pack what would normally be months of stuff into 36 hours. I'm so glad my friend was here, but I was exhausted going into my work-intense week, and I know she's felt the same way (happy to have seen each other, but exhausted).

I could feel myself approaching "stop the world I want to get off RIGHT NOW."

So I listened to myself for once and took some time. I slept late. I took care of some household chores I hadn't had time to do. I organized my office (which desperately needed it). I relaxed and watched some bad TV (America's Next Top Model, baby). I read all the funny April Fool's Day jokes people pulled (GMail paper cracked me up!). I feel no guilt about doing this, because it's either take the day off, or I'll have a breakdown later. Inevitably, if I don't get enough downtime mentally, eventually my body physically has a breakdown and I end up with forced time off by getting sick. I don't like being sick. So every now and then, when I feel myself getting overwhelmed and cranky about mundane things, I try to listen to myself and take it as a sign that I need a day off from the world to recharge.

Today was that day. I took the day off from the world. And it was wonderful.