Entertainment Librarian-Style

As you may know, I am currently studying to be a librarian. And adventuresome library students like me find ways to sneak a little fun in between Cataloging and Reference.

For instance, I once had to develop a bibliography (book list) on any topic. So, naturally, I created one on the classics of sadomasochistic erotic literature. Another time I had to create an on-line form, so, naturally, I created an on-line multiple-partner lifestyle survey (you can view it - and take it - at http://plumlovely.com/wayne/polyamory.html)

This semester I am having yet more fun. This semester I am studying metadata - that's data about data. Yes, it really is as abstract and boring as it sounds. My final project is to find a collection of things and prepare it for digitization. For instance, I could call all of my baby pictures a collection and I would then need to decide what to record about each photo in order to put it online and make them searchable. Like, what size the photos are, when they were taken, who is in them, etc.

My "collection" is women's music festivals and my first paragraph (of, ostensibly, a research paper) is:

Here at the Wellesley College Music Library, we have recently been approached by a joint coalition of faculty members in the music and women's studies departments. They are requesting the creation of a Web-accessible database of women's music festivals – in essence, that library staff digitize a collection of events. The collection is designed to assist the faculty, staff and students of Wellesley College in staying abreast of current trends in women's musical performance and contemporary expressions of women's culture. Senior librarians and library staff members were unable to locate a metadata scheme that had been written specifically to accommodate recurring events. Therefore, we have determined to create our own scheme that we will call the Wellesley Core.

OK, back to bloggin, so some of the data I'll be collecting about the festivals will be whether there are workshops and what kind of workshops are held (political, personal improvement, etc.), what kind of performances there are, what kinds of settings (e.g. indoors or outdoors, university property or private property), whether there is camping or whether it is one-day event, what the policies are like vis a vis women-born-women and male children and all that other fun stuff women go into the woods and argue about. The first two pages of my paper are an explanation of what a women's music festival is like and why it is important to put them into a searchable database (so you could look up stuff like which festivals allow nudity, which are longer than one day, which have vegan options at mealtimes, which usually feature comedians or acrobats, etc.). Sorry, but this paper is only about HOW to do this, not to actually go ahead and do it. Guess I would need an independent study for that.

For those of you to whom this is important, my prof is female. So, no secrets will be getting out.

What the Widget, its a mirror!

I was fooling around on the internet and came across MACs widget page...they have some fun stuff, dumb stuff, and almost computer kinky stuff. What has blown me away and almost makes me want to run under my bed...which is a futon, so really I would be covering myself with my bed, is you can purchase a mirror widget. Yep. It pops a mirror up on your screen and you can look at yourself in the computer.

Trippy, too close to 1984 for me in this life time, and yet, surprisingly intrigueing. I wonder if you can get one that has the Evil witches' magic mirror face from Snow White when you don't want to look at yourself?

IBM doesn't have this!

Fractured

Just when I thought life would ease up from one class ending, I am dealt a blow. My most reliable employee injured herself playing softball and has two fractures in her arm on her dominant hand. She's likely to be out of work for four weeks (if she doesn't need surgery). Did I mention she's the bookkeeper and business manager? As it is, I was trying to carve out two days next month from my already packed workload to rebuild a database. Yes, rebuild. As in every field, every script, every layout from scratch. My job is already enough work for one and a half people. Now I get to sub for my business manager, too. Joy.

So, if you don't see me at the cafe working on the amazing workload from my Organizational Behavior class for the prof who knows how to lay on the work, then I'll probably be at my office working for the organization that knows how to work me to the bone.

And if I'm not either of those places I'll be at home with my often cranky 4yo and my beautiful wife who marches on in the job search despite her despair and the now two housemates (one in the spare room and one on the couch).

Here's my excuse for not posting in a while. Whattup with the rest of the group?

Hail to the Chief!

Hooray for the chief who spent Saturday afternoon with Mr. Man and never left the house. Mr. Man says they did "nothing" and seemed quite pleased. It meant that Seafarer and I could see our first movie in a theater in almost a year! We saw Mr. and Mrs. Smith, which was great, and not just because I am starved for cinematic content. Hooray!


In other news, is anyone else going to post on this thing? Hello?

"I'm sorry for calling you a sick F#$%, God!

I have no time to write the best story ever from my Birthday celebration.
I will say, it was a wonderful time and offer some quotes from the experience:

Homeslice: "I'm sorry for calling you a sick F%&$, God!"

The Chief "Do you ever notice when people go 'wooo' at concerts you can't just go 'wo' and be done...you have to go 'wooOOOoo' like a train."

My Lil Brother Little Gogo:
"Happy Birthday, [GoGo]. What are you getting me for my birthday?"

And best of all, this converstion:
Lil'GoGo: "[GoGo] are you dating a boy yet?"

GoGo: "No, I am not dating a boy?"

Lil'GoGo: "Have you ever dated boys?"

GoGo: "Yes, but I just want you to know [Lil GoGo], I am not dating boys anymore."

Lil'GoGo: "Oh, okay. I love you."

i am not allowed to tell him I am queer...i can only answer his questions.

Tickets

For only the second time in 13 years, we do not have tickets to Festival and likely will not. Aside from the pesky $830 that we don't have for tickets, there's our son. He loves Festival, of course. In fact his only understanding of camping is Festival. The other night I was telling him a bedtime story about a family who went camping in a remote area and who, after cooking dinner, went to wash dishes in a river. He interjected and told me that they could wash their dishes at the sink (you know, ladies, the Dishwashing Area between the Kitchen and the Acoustic Stage).

Even if we had the money for tickets, there's still the issue that this year he'd have to learn that this year is his last. This year will likely be an intensified version of every other year we've gone to Festival with Mr. Man--a never-ending litany of questions about how old he is and will he go to Brother Sun next year?

I support womyn's-only space as much as the next girly-girl, but how do I reconcile that with the fact that my favorite womyn's-only space can't create a safe space for 5yo boys? What does it say about the quality of womyn's space if Brother Sun takes boys to mainstream movies like Spy Kids and for walks in the woods to the bullet tree that is used by local hunters for target practice and is surrounded by shells? So, no, thank you, he can't go to Brother Sun.

I'm sure he'll start asking about Festival, if not this summer, then sometime soon. How can I tell him that the womyn don't want him to camp with them anymore and they can't build a creative, womyn-affirming, boy-positive boys' space?

So I think this is my Festival farewell, at least until Mr. Man is old enough to go deep-woods camping with a peculiar uncle from Seattle.

But I do want to create something new for him, perhaps a new tradition, and definitely a new understanding of living in the outdoors. Can I propose a group expedition at the end of August, maybe early September? Will you please be a part of creating a boy-friendly fun time outside? Your ideas, your presence and your energy are appreciated.

Think Good Thoughts

Think good thoughts for my grandma who is at U of M hospital right now getting control of pain from back spasms. I've been down with her four days this week and she's not having an easy time. She could use some good energy sent her Ann Arbor way.

Photo Album

Xena, Ichi, Ni, Olivia, Sugar...and somewhere below
is Jack.












I miss having a cat.

Life's busy. Work's busy, class keeps me busy, the other job keeps me busy. Busy, busy, busy... You ever wonder, in all this busy, what's the point? I am today. I mean sure we all make our own meaning. How we feel and see the world, is mostly choice*, and for some the right drug combination. So, my own question can be answered - the point is what I make it. Today though, I seem to be lost between all this busy and the things I make a point to have in my life are there, but I still feel pointless. Hmm. Can anyone tell me what's my point?

Touch

Oobleck

I have the oobleck. Seafarer started it. Last Monday. She still has it. Mr. Man got the weird infection thing first, then the oobleck. But I, no, I fought the oobleck. I took vitamins, I drank fluids, I was going to miss this thing.

Last night, my throat hurt, just a little bit, but I knew. Today, a large truck of oobleck keeps backing over me.

The chief came by and was given vitamins with breakfast. We will continue to pass out vitamins to the brave. You have been warned.

Perverted Dreaming

I had a dream last night. A totally ordinary dream. For some reason I haven't been remembering my dreams very well for a number of months so this is an occasion for me.

I dreamed that I was living on an old farm and someone had left all their stuff in my barn. I didn't know who the person was, just that it was a man, that he was a pervert (yes, yes, pot-kettle-black) and we had been on friendly terms at some point (i'm assuming, why else the free storage?). In any case, the guy went on the lam and I was very confident he was never coming back for his stuff. Don't ask me how I knew, I just knew. So, I called a bunch of friends over to help me clean out the barn. One woman said she would try to sell what stuff was sell-able and if there were any profits she would share them among those of us who cleaned out the barn.

A few days later I get a call: she got $54,000 for his stuff! This was a total surprise. My share was going to be $8,000 and I decided to pay off credit card debt. You may note that it did not for one second occur to me to give this money to the guy - perverts have fewer rights in dreams, too, apparently.

But then, as I showered and went through my morning routine, an evil thought came into my head. A bad, bad, no-good, stinky, evil, bad thought. It occurred to me that with the Underground bombings in London that airfare to that fair city was going to plummet. I love London. It occurred to me that this would be an optimal moment to skip off to London for three or four days. Alone. All alone. Privately. Four days of aloneness wandering London. Go see Aphra Behn's tomb again. Eat Chinese and Indian to my heart's content. Ahhh. As, of coure, I just came into $8,000.

It is very difficult to remember that I did not come into $8,000 today.

Unique Relationship Patterns

I've recently begun looking for unique relationship patterns in literature (and other media). I'm looking for truly out-of-the-maintstream yet emotionally real situations in which people relate to each other - family members, lovers, friends, enemies, acquaintences, any relationship where people choose to connect in a real way that doesn't follow the standard patterns. You know the patterns - draw a box around "a friend" and we can all name ten things it is OK for "a friend" to do with us, for us, or to us. We can all name another ten actions that would move that person to a different box with a different set of ensuing expectations, or, conversely, end the relationship altogether. I'm interested in events and situations that push the envelope - where connection is maintained and strengthened in unique ways. Where the boxes get dumped overboard in favor of vulnerability and the ability to sit through difficult feelings to see what's on the other side.

The search so far has resulted in a lot of dead ends and a few surprising and delicious rewards. For instance, in "The God of Small Things" byArundhati Roy the two main characters, a brother and sister, have sex as adults after a long separation as a way to reconnect. Nobody was damaged, nobody was victimized, nobody freaked out. A brother and sister connected through sex. Cool. A unique relationship pattern.

In "Merry Meet" the second "Circle of 3" book (a series of books about teenagers entering Wicca), a teenage girl lies about her circumstances to hide the fact that she is homeless and also practicing magic irresponsibly. The lesson learned by those who were lied to is not just forgiveness or compassion but most importantly that people in small communities are going to keep bumping into each other and no matter how ugly things get or how hurt you are, resolution between individuals is important for the sake of the community. Amen and a good lesson to learn in a town where we're bumping into our ex's for years.

In my new favorite book, "In This House of Brede" by Rumer Godden, one nun falls in love with another. The focus of the situation is on the responsibility of the woman who was fallen in love with to maintain friendship with the lusting one and help her work through her feelings so that all may maintain not only celibacy but strong community. Wow. Cool. Unique.

If you come across unique patterns of any variety in literature or other media, please pass them my way.

Week in the Life of a GoGo

This has been my last week free of classes. Next week I begin my new career in academia which starts with the wonderful world of statistics. Statistically, how many people start their academic careers with a stastics class?

For my last week of freedom I was pretty much preoccupied with our grand old President, NOT the Chief, G.W. Bush. I pondered the serious question, can I really live another 3 years with this boob as Prez? What choices do I have? I am so frustrated with this whole affair, I have fallen to the level of elementary name calling. My favorite name so far is George DUB, which a select few may understand, but for those who do not - DUB stands for Dysfunctional Uterine Bleeding...its a long story and a label I wish I never learned, but since I have, I might as well apply it accordingly.

The other big event in my last week of freedom (not the freedom as defined by our Scari-dent)has been my continued committment to becoming a healthier me. I ran 7 days last week, so the goal this week was to incorporate weight lifting to the regime. Hehe. Even now, I wonder, what was I thinking. I went to the Gym and lifted weights. Yep, I did it. I read somewhere that when lifting weights you should find a weight level that gives you "the burn" in the last two reps within each set. I started out with light weights, but honestly did not feel "the burn". I decided to go heavier and on those last two reps in each set I FELT "the burn". I felt so good afterwards and proud of myself, I went for an extra long bike ride home. It wasn't until 4:20 am in the morning as I woke up paralyzed in the arms that I realized I might have made a mistake.

I woke up with a full bladder (from drinking my 8 glasses of water throughout the day), but I couldn't move my arms. As I attempted to push myself forward, this tight body piercing pain shot through my biceps, triceps, joints, and other muscles I never knew I had. I thought to myself, My G-d, GoGo, what have you done?! It took me 15 minutes of pure pain to get myself situated into the vertical position complete with a waterbed full bladder to go to the bathroom. But my mistake making (DSM definition: poor insight behavior) did not stop there. As I entered the bathroom, I saw this lovely little bottle of IcyHot, or rather the generic version Cold & Hot and decided to put it on my worn out arms. It felt great, like a warm bath permeating me. Where is the mistake you might ask? Well I then proceeded to go pee, without passing go, collecting $200, or washing my hands. As I wiped my woo, I quickly realized that two ply extra soft TP does not a barrier make between the me and the caution notes on the the side of the tube: For external use only. Lets just say, for the rest of the night I no longer was occupied by the paralysis and pain in my arms, but rather the hot seering pain coming from C. I felt the burn! Though I do admit the afterward tingle was nice.

Sandra Day O'Connor is retiring

Way to bring down my holiday weekend, Sandy. Its not her leaving, its Bush's opportunity to elect someone in her place that worries me.

20 minutes of fame

I think the chief should always be famous!

Story found here