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Labor Day

I’m going to Flint tomorrow. I’ll be in town through Tuesday.

I hope to visit my mom’s library on Friday, assuming I don’t expire from the cold I have developed.
For your envy and amusement, my itinerary: I’m getting up at 4am so I can leave Ithaca at 4:30am so I can get to the Syracuse airport at 5:30am so I can fly at 6:30am so I can tranfer in DC at 8am so I can arrive in Detroit at 9:30am.

All to get to Flint.
Has mankind ever made such efforts?
Has anyone ever had to work so hard to get to Flint?

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Spider week

sos.gifEvery year the spiders come. They come in herds. They come alone. Through the drains and under the door, they come.

Spiders. For a week in September, our home is not safe from their octo-legitude. They get together, pick a time and make themselves at home.

This weekend I vacuumed about 35 spiders from various parts of my house. I vacuum every week. This isn’t lazy housekeeping. This is an invasion.

I complained to friendErin, but she had no sympathy. “In Arizona,” she said, “the local tarantulas migrate. There can be up to three miles of solid tarantula on the road.”

Not much fun in a moped.

Wishing you a bipedal day,
-Erica

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Staff picnic

The staff picnic is today. There are a few firsts this year, including the availability of beer (gasp!) and wine (eek!) provided by our generous overlords. This is a controversial move. Alcohol and Campus Events are a lawsuit-attracting combination, and it takes a brave administrator to go down the Dark Road of Official Permission Forms. avengerhero.pngUnless, of course, the intent is to butter up potential funders, in which case let the vino flow!

Mary, my mentor, boss, and friend has foolishly volunteered to orchestrate an hour of children’s games. In the interest of preserving her sanity (that I might make use of it in the future), I have volunteered to help.

Mary’s plan: lots of candy.
My plan: Superhero games.

Who can jump the highest?
Who can turn invisible?
Who can talk to animals? Quick! Rescue that heiress!
Over there!
Waaaaaaay over there!

For your amusement, the HeroMachine. My superhero has bat wings and an electrical aura. Neyah.

Wish me luck.

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Overheard at Cornell

I was shopping for cat litter at Target yesterday because my life is a nonstop carnival of spectacle and decadence, when I overheard a fascinating conversation. The conversation was seriously not work-safe, so I sent it along to Overheard at Cornell, whose readership is much less litigious.

Enjoy! The gentleman in question was loudly hopeful that things might turn out well.

We’re all cheering for you man.

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My new shopping technique is unstoppable

(apologies to mnftiu.cc)

I visited the Cornell Dump & Run this weekend, an ingenious fundraiser that sells the cast-off detritus of graduating students. I went last year and got a pretty good idea where the good stuff was located. I made a beeline for the bags, dresses, lamps, and women’s tops.

For $28, I came away with:

  • Gucci handbag
  • Banana Republic handbag
  • Kate Spade handbag (washable stain on bottom)
  • Paul Frank monkey wallet, new
  • Liz Claiborne purse and wallet
  • $360 red BCBG dress (looks new, fits!)
  • Banana republic jeans that mysteriously fit my body
  • Ann Taylor cashmere sweater and shell
  • Esprit fall jacket, new w/tags
  • University of Chicago hoodie, looks new & warm
  • DKNY party skirt to Ebay (size 4, free to any interested anorexic readers)
  • A variety (20 or so) of nice work clothes from various high-end retailers
  • A variety of nice work clothes that don’t fit me but will fit friends
  • Wood beaded necklace
  • Benetton blazer, one loose button
  • Chrome clamp-on desk lamp, looks new
  • Various office supplies
  • Swanky Lexus Keyring

Ladies and gentlemen, beware my discount bling!

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Throwing my undies at Patrick Stewart

xavier.jpgOur tickets arrived today! Chris got tickets to see three Royal Shakespeare Company plays in Ann Arbor this November. Two of them have a high Patrick Stewart content.

If you’re looking for me, I’ll be the one up next to the stage sitting on Chris’ shoulders going “woo!” and lifting my shirt.

Hey Mark Andrews – are you gonna be there or what? Shakespeare BABY!!! WOOOO!

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Take my Comics…please

feazellcat.gifI’ve started a library at work. My cataloging system is the whiteboard over my desk. My patrons are co-workers and student employees whom I bully into taking books. My material? Comics. I’m on a mission from Groo.

When I was a young Librarian Avenger, I spent many happy years working in the world’s largest cataloged collection of comic art, located at Michigan State University. There I met some majorly kickass librarians who were kind enough to allow me to shelve books, type tags, sort through boxes, occasionally catalog (ah, young dorkiness) and induge in a whole lot of secret in-the-stacks comic-reading.

As a result of this intensive training, I can now walk into any fluorescent-lit basement-level industrial-carpeted D&D-riddled comic shop and pick a fight. Ghost Rider vs. Punisher? No problem. Spawn eats them both. First edition copy of Watchmen? Own it. Portrait of myself inked by David Mack? Got it. Personalized CynicalMan convention souvenir by Matt Feazell? On my wall. Every issue of Scott McCloud’s Zot, stolen from an ex-boyfriend? Yuppers.

If I had several lives to live simultaneously, I would take out a loan and start a comic shop. I believe that some of the best art and writing of my generation can be found in the pages of comics. Transmetropolitan. Sandman. Optic Nerve. La Perdida. Dykes to Watch Out For. Fun Home. Understanding Comics. Kabuki. Y The Last Man. Zot.

So, lately I’ve been biking my trade paperbacks up the hill and distributing them. I need someone to talk to about this stuff. It’s lonely here at the top.