January 2008

I got a new baby. And I named her Baby. She is so sweet… she follows Delilah (our other ratty) around like a bothersome little sister. Rodents are my weakness. Among other things. That’s her, nestled down in my cleavage all snuggley… and Scout is there to check her out. Jealous that he can’t enjoy the same snuggleyness…

I know. Don’t even say anything.


This is why I wanted to be a librarian: to help people. To help. But I think most people nowdays view me as a bitter cynic – not a hopeful or helpful person. But then that one guy will walk in the library and break my heart into pieces and mend it at the same time. The old homeless smelly man who still has his dignity .. who tells me he’s “new to the library membership” and needs a library card and wants some random DVDs… and while I wonder how and where he will use the DVDs I still want to get him everything I can get for him because he still has his dignity and he asks so nicely despite his dirty clothes,  matted hair, swollen face.  He deserves whatever I can help him get. I have always felt that way about everyone. But lately I have forgotten that. I have become cold and tired and exhausted with public service. How can I remind myself ?

My heart is pure in so many ways and so poisoned in so many ways. It’s just what life does to you. I’m ready to start. Ready to be a real person. Finally. Most people reach this decision at a much younger age I suppose but I have to accept that I am on my own timetable. This is where I begin. And if you never begin you are lost.

From today’s SLOG….. this post.

I don’t know. Books just don’t have a laxative effect on me but I think some good marketing ideas might be coming down the pike.


Think about it: the Q-Tip. The real, bona fide Q-Tip. What is it? 100 % pure cotton on a paper stick.  I was reading the Q-Tip package this morning. It was all I could handle reading this morning. The label claims Q-Tips have “more soft cotton at the tip* than any other swab”.  I was intruiged by the asterisk. 

*From the end of the stick to the top of the swab. But where is the end of the stick? Both ends have cotton on them.  And why was it necessary to define “tip”??? And there’s a little picture to illustrate where the “tip” is, in case you couldn’t figure it out. The tip of the Q-Tip is fairly glowing and a little dotted cap has been imposed over the tip just to make sure you can see where the tip is.

The label also states “VARIETY OF USES” in a rather bold, modern font, above the traditional “Q-tips ® Cotton Swabs” labeling that has comforted us for a lifetime.

Still intrigued by all I was learning while still on my first cup of coffee, I went on to explore the q-tips.com website. Whoa!!! Dude….. fascinating stuff. Especially the history of the Q-Tip.  Check it out.. there’s even a kooky 1950’s ad for viewing. Who knew the product was originally called Baby Gays and in 1926, the labels were changed to read Q-tips® Baby Gays.  Baby Gays??? WTF?? The Oxford English Dictionary has a very lengthy entry for the word “gay”.. many meanings there but nothing that makes sense in the context of “baby gays”…. at least not to me.  A nosegay is a small bouquet. Maybe it was a play on that … the “tip” (see illustration on packaging if you don’t know what a tip is) being the little bouquet of cotton.  God  – life is fascinating. Especially my life.

hey.. did we forget to revolt? This guy’s on the way out and it seems we have forgotten that he needs to be strung up, torn down, waterboarded, and sent to GITMO. He can afford to laugh, breathe a sigh of relief and hold hands with the Saudi princes, kings, terrorists…. the spotlight is off.


I find that working in a relentlessly grinding branch library like the one I’m temporarily assigned to is wearing me down. I call it “temporary assignment” – they (management) call it “deployment”. Sounds like a military term to me. And in this case, it is much like being in the military. Constant surveillance of the terrain is necessary, must be on the defensive, must deal with a hostile and/or desperately needy population, must watch the delivery bins line up in the back like batallions of tanks, must watch the infantry (the poor LA1’s – a/k/a shelvers) bust their asses just to keep up, must keep up …… and stiff upper lip old chap…..  “SMILE WHILE YOU’RE DOING THAT SOLDIER!!!” ….   can I PLEASE get back to my sleepy little branch where the biggest problem is deciding what to have for lunch ???  As I have said… I have way too many personal problems to work in a library like this one. I need a kinder, gentler locale. I need a swooning couch and mint juleps. 

Changed my blog presentation to include my doxie Scout in the bathtub….. can you say tocks!!! 


First thing when I hit the desk Monday – a telephone question from an older woman with hearing issues: “Is this the reference librarian???” (there’s always trouble ahead when that’s the first thing they ask)…..”Yes it is…. can i help you??” “WHAT??? I CAN’T HEAR VERY WELL”…  (louder) “Can I help you??” 

 “I was playing a word game with some friends and they used two words that I am not familiar with. Can you tell me what they mean?” “Okay”……  “The first was “vetted” … do you know what that means?”  “Well sorta but I should probably look it up to give you the proper definition.” “Okay and the second word is “jism”  ” Okay! I’ll put you on hold!!!” 

So I read her the OED definition for vetted (vetting actually) and then the Wikipedia entry which is more understandable to her. Then I say as quietly as possible but still loud enough that she can hear me “and the second word simply means sperm or semen“. “Ooooh…. really? Did you know that?”  “Well yes I did” “How? Where did you hear it?”  “I don’t know, I’ve just heard it before” (I’m the porn librarian) “Well how do you pronounce it?”  “Um, I don’t really want to say the word here at the reference desk” “Whisper it!”  “you had it right. it has a hard “j“. ”  (did I just say hard???)  “Well I don’t like that one”  “It also can mean strength or energy according to the OED”  “Well that one I like better. Let’s say that is the meaning. ”  “Okay!”

I’ve had nothing to blog about lately. Just sitting typing for my own personal edification seems pointless. Then this news headline got me thinking. If I was going to kill and eat the man I love, how would I serve him up? And which part would I eat first? Maybe not the obvious parts. This entire train of thought is making me feel not so good. Maybe I should just write about my job.

MORE thoughts on this topic:   So if I ate the THC-laced brain of one particularly favorite boy, I would probably go on the biggest longest most bizarre trip in the history of recreational drug use.  That shit would be potent. I used to tell him all the time I wanted to eat his brain. Or like the stalker in Blades of Glory, cut off his skin and wear it to my birthday party……  These types of comments are very endearing,  ladies. Make them loud and often.


New Year’s Day. Woke up at 10. Drank coffee. Watched the marathon ANTM all fucking day. Can’t stop. Dragged myself to the gym for a quick workout. Back home. More ANTM. The brain has stopped. Altogether. Can’t stop…….. watching……..

I know what the problem is. Now fixing it is another issue. Need sunshine. Need a hobby. Need to get out of the fucking house. Need to give up the vino. Need to go to an ashram, a monestary, back to school, SOMETHING!!!!  Blow up the computers. And the TV.