Sometimes you get more than you wanted

Let's drink like Diana.

I kicked off the Easter weekend in the company of two fabulous librarian friends and a spectacular Anne of Green Gables Marathon. Did we make it to the finish line? Not quite, but we had fun anyways.

We spent four hours sighing for Gilbert, chuckling at chatterbox Anne, admiring (or mocking) the cut of her dress, and pining for the sandy windswept shores of P.E.I. We drank rasberry cordial (fake) and indulged in egg salad sandwiches and tarts among other delictables. A Good thing to do on Good Friday.

So, back to business, yesterday I worked on Adult Info. and here's what happened:

Older woman approaches desk with lipstick gone wrong, lipstick that has gone beyond the boundaries of her real lips, and has worn away at the centre, giving her a clownish mouth to say the least. Or tartish, depending on your inclination to be charitable.

This is a great, great book.

Do you have anything else by this author?

Oh, what is it about? (this was a MISTAKE)

I am trying to read more non-fiction, and in this area know I have a penchant for female writers, particularly those that focus on travel and world events. Well, ooooh my goodness. The stuff coming out of this woman's mouth made me sweat.

Perspiration.

Clammy hands, I could not stop the stream of utterances.

NervouslyI glanced around to see who else was listening.

Example. Gay Men. Sure as heck don't want to huddle with them in the military. They are good people. But if I was a man, I sure as heck woudn't want to huddle with one.

Example. She begins reading a passage aloud to me. Along the lines of...Girls need permission to get their ears peirced, why don't they need permission for something that is a SIN (hissed loudly) !!? (Reference to abortion)

I cringe.

OOOh. My. Goodness. Neutral responses, eyes frequently averted. Please leave. Please leave now. I am not shocked that she agrees with the author. I am shocked that she thinks I would be sympathetic. That once upon a time, a lot of people would think this, that in many circles, people do still think this.

The moral of the story, is don't ask if you are afraid of what you might hear. And, I need to learn how to politely interrupt. I have this strange reverence for the elderly, no matter what filth they spout. I'm compelled to be the good girl, the listener, the polite person...

Time to break free, right?

I need a drink. Pass me the rasberry cordial, er, red current wine.

Paper or Plastic or Moving Van?

At the grocery store on my lunch break:

Hi, I'm just wondering if I can have the refrigerated items bagged separately?

No problem.

Thank you.

I'm one of the people here who are conscientious about that....they're going to miss me when I leave.

Oh.

[Moment later...]

Are you leaving soon? [Don't know why I asked!]

Well, yeah, the cost of living is just too high here.

Yeah. [thinking...the cost of living is too high everywhere when you work at the grocery store, trust me, been there done that]

Well, thanks, have a really good last day.

Reward: The highest decibel smile I've ever seen.

Again, I believe working on a reference desk causes me to cross those stranger boundaries, and interact with people I don't know in a slightly more authentic way. Sometimes it's weird because I'm not really that sort of person, but mostly I think it's nice because that is what community is, talking to people where we live. Where we live is where we live, but it's also where we shop, where we work, and where we go.

Speaking of where we live... yes I know, it's my favorite complaint lately and has nothing to do with librarianship....

On Easter Sunday, I awoke to the sound of hammering at 8:30 am. With my earplugs in.

It was loud.

It was early.

Okay, not that early, but still a holiday Sunday!

It sounded like it was coming from the balcony above.

I lay in bed imagining myself shouting, "It's a holiday, couldn't you wait until 9:00!"

I was very close to shouting. I lept out of bed, ripped open my curtains and cast my bleary eyes upwards.

It immediately stopped. I heard my neighbour above pacing around.

You bloody coward, I thought to myself. (In the summer he would sweep debris through the slats onto my patio furniture and into my drink, even onto me, and scuttle away as soon as I cleared my throat)...I waited my the door for a return of the hammering.

It didn't start up again and returned to the quiet sanctity of my bed and blissfully drifted off.

Later that day, on several occasions the hammering started up again.

Oh for goodness sake! Are you trying to be as annoying as possible? I griped...to myself mind you, roomie had headed home. I've noticed that by the end of a long weekend alone, I am spending more time "talking aloud" than what one might consider normal.

Well, to my horror, I discovered that yes the hammering would stop every time I open the curtains because the culprit was so scared of me that he would fly away.

Mr. Big Fat Crow was trying to build a nest in peace.

Do I feel foolish or what?!

Five Inches of Danger

Is wearing a batman mask every day detrimental to your child's development?

A small boy comes into the library several mornings a week, wearing a hard molded plastic batman mask. His mother wears a permanently sour expression, that discourages comment or even a tender smile from staff. They march in and march out, rarely perusing the shelves.

I have begun to wonder, if there is something wrong. They don't speak, he doesn't play with other children, and his peripheral vision is non-existant in this headgear. In the beginning, perhaps it was a simple indulgence, but now I am beginning to wonder if it has taken on a Phantom of the Opera quality. What are they masking?

Spring Has Arrived

Spring is hear, alas, the bagpipes have begun.

Literally.

The park across the street has become a haven for bagpipe practice, yet again. The strains of a weak winded child rushing through a series of notes erupts again. This very moment, but endearly the child is now visiting with a wheelchair bound elderly person with a guide dog. Aaah, community at work.

Several other ridiculous things happened today. I wish they happened at work, but unfortunately I am congested beyond belief and only lasted a half-hour in the confines of the library but deducing that my feverish state demanded bed rest. So this morning, when I headed to work, there was a dead bird on my car. It had been picked clean except for it's head, but the skeleton was fully intact, laying on my trunk. What was I to do but drive off, anxiously checking the rearview mirror, wondering if anyone could make an ICBC claim for damage done by a dead bird flying off my car and hitting their car? I don't know where I lost it, but when I arrived at the destination, it was gone.

The last bizarre thing that happened, was that this morning I hid in my apartment before leaving for work. I cowered in the hall, peeking through the eyehole, avoiding my new neighbours, two laughing, snickering yoga instructor types from former hometown and highschool days. Out of all the places to move in this city, highschool comes back to bite me in the ass, and they move across the hall from me. Neither were ever nice, in fact, both could be a little mean back in the day. One of them responsible for many unkind comments in the school year book's "Most Likely Too..." page- and I am not sharing what my entry was. La dee dah, and here I am, I am a librarian (I can just hear them snickering!)...Ugh...mayhaps I can plot revenge? Or, more in keeping with my character, simply continue with the avoidance strategy. Only one more month.

Current Reading:
An Abundance of Katherines by John Green (more to come on this later)
Book I put down, and don't have time to go back to:
Ysabel by Guy Gavriel Kay
Audiobook in my Car Stereo:
A Room with a View
Unfinished Book Review Title:
undisclosed but dull, can I review it without finishing it?