Snowed In!

Three feet of snow rolled into town yesterday. Two of them landed on the ground, and the other foot is just blowing all over the place. People are walking backwards by my window because of the wind, but from my indoor perspective next to an overactive heat register it’s just beautiful. I’m going to bring my sled in to work tomorrow and sled home.

Today is the annual Holiday party. I’m going to have to go home and change, because I forgot and wore jeans today, which isn’t normally a big deal since the only humans I see at work are also in jeans, but in the context of a university-wide soiree, might be seen as a bit skuzzy. The thing is, what with the three feet of snow and all, I’m not sure what else to wear. I’m not one of those women who owns sixteen pairs of lined woolen slacks. I was planning on doing a bit of work clothes shopping after the break, but right now its either jeans, cargo pants, or a skirt. And the skirt is right out. Do other people have these problems?

Help! I’m having a Collections Emergency!

Help! I’m having a Collections Emergency!

Today I called someone at work and her voicemail said:

“If you are having a collections emergency, please call my pager.”

Help! The collections have turned on us! They just devoured a bibliographer!

They’re moving toward the staff break room! Sweet God, it’s a collections emergency!

Troubled patrons?

Crazies 101

My employer is holding a workshop:

“Trouble or Troubled: Dealing with Difficult Patrons

This workshop will describe the various kinds of patrons who create problems in the libraries. It will provide information which will assist you in determining the difference between a “patron with a problem” or a “problem patron.” The workshop will then provide information on what to do as well as how and when to access resources such as the police.”

Judo class to follow. Seriously, there’s a pretty wild thread going right now in the forums on the subject of crazy patrons. Our workshop folks must have an entire Crazy Patron taxonomy going, since they will be specifying the “various kinds of patrons” along with, I assume, their Latin names and feeding habits. I’m looking forward to it.

I actally talked to a patron today. I was locking up the office this evening when a woman using the OPAC stopped me and asked if I had a pen. I did. No need to thank me, public service is my middle name.

Pirates of the Bibliotecha

Erica and Rabbit-the-dog

Winter cometh. Rabbit-the-dog gets up early, and lately when I let her out she tiptoes around the frozen yard with an accusing look on her snout. We had her spayed last week, and she had to wear one of those doggie satellite dishes around her neck. I soothed her the best I could, but when I left for work the first day she pressed her head up against the door and whimpered. With the plastic cone on, it looked like we had suction-cupped a dog to our wall.

It has been a week of recovery for everyone. I’m coming out of an awful cold, which has re-introduced me to the joys of Allegra abuse. I’ve been self-medicating with hot toddies and delivery pizza. After five days, my head has finally deflated to normal size and my overabundance of phlegm no longer frightens the co-workers. Coming in to work sick is great if you enjoy people asking you “do you have allergies, or is that…(suspicious pause)…a cold?”

Our University inaugurated a new president last week, and since I now find myself with faculty status, I was able to march in the academic procession. Hundreds of over-educated people in silly clothes wound their way across campus in the cold. In our fancy schmancy regalia, it was a great big academic drag show. A whole crowd from the library showed up, and there was talk of staging a raid on the nearby Law School. We figured we could use our mortarboards and rapier-like wit as weapons and take over their budget.

Arr.

Ivy

First, I would like to officially apologize to Peter for talking his friendly Minnesotan ear off at the I.T. thing yesterday. Low blood sugar almost inevitably leads to leftist political rants. I’m sure I read this somewhere in the New England Medical Journal.

The window ledge skateboarders have not returned today.

Someone once pulled a gun on my friend Erin and demanded her skateboard. This was back in Flint, MI. She ran away, and now runs marathons in San Francisco.

At this point I would like to emphasize the Not-Flintness of Ithaca, NY. I feel confident that my library window skateboard boys are back in middle school today, snapping bra straps and setting off stink bombs.

I’ve been reading this book:

This fine place so far from home: Voices of Academics from the Working Class

Speaking of which, there sure is a lot of ivy in the Ivy League. It all turned red over the weekend, and it looks just glorious. Ivy can cover a great number of architectural flaws. Someone might consider planting some around Olin Library

The second in a paranoid series

cool looking header image

Ah ha! I get it! They aren’t looking at me!

Let me back up. I work in front of a huge window. All day students walk by on their way to classes. About half of them stare into my office as they walk by. It is kind of creepy. I’ll get this odd feeling that I’m being watched, look up, and realize that I AM being watched. It wasn’t until today that I noticed a woman sort of tap-tap-tapping on her hair the way people do when they…look in a mirror. Yes, a mirror. Not in a window, but rather, at a reflective surface created by contrasting light levels.

I’m so relieved.