Quodlibets

S and I have been

S and I have been watching a documentary called The Devil's Playground. It's very interesting. It's all about the "rumspringa" of the Amish kids. My grandparents grew up near Pennsylvania Dutch country, and I've always sort of felt that the culture was fascinating. (And to be quite frank, I think the quilts that come out of those communities are simply gorgeous. I would love to own an authentic Amish quilt. I have it on good authority that they're very expensive, however, and since I'd really like to pick my own quilt out, I'll just have to wait.) Anyway, these are very interesting stories. Most of the kids seem to genuinely believe in the Amish religion. But watching them light up cigarettes, drink beers, play rock music, do lots of drugs and party harder than I can even imagine.
Yet, they often express a longing to join the church, get married, and have babies. The older Amish, the baptized ones, express longing for their "transportation" but say they mostly love the life. I can't imagine the chasm between what you're doing and what you know you should be doing. I can't imagine the ever-present feeling that you're going to hell. If these kids don't choose to be baptized, and they die without baptism, they are "lost", as one preacher said. They are going to hell. Doesn't matter how they lived their life, doesn't matter what they feel. It's baffling. The whole community is baffling. The whole idea of 'rumspringa' is baffling.

I highly recommend the film though. It's very interesting, and enjoyable to watch.

I am so tired that

I am so tired that I feel that if I pause long enough in the writing of this, my eyes will fall closed and I will fall asleep. I think I need a nap.

At almost 9 p.m. Or wait, is that just called sleep? Off to do something that entails closed eyes.

Okay, not really. Well, yes,

Okay, not really. Well, yes, sort of. You see, I finished a gigantic anthology of women writing about feminism, and I was really very happy about finishing. I have a stack of books from the library that I've been looking at with longing for four days. And I was all set to rip into one of those books, and I even went so far as to read the first page of one of the books when the most terrifying and horrible thing happened.

I picked up a different book, a book that S picked up for me yesterday, a book that I have wanted to read since I saw it mentioned in the Trib's Books section, a book that is by a writer that I normally find hit or miss (mostly hit), a book that is really just a year's worth of columns that this author wrote for literary magazine that I normally find hard to read; I picked up this book and I just finished it. Just now, instead of showering, or doing laundry (though I did start the dishwasher and eat lunch all while finishing the book), I read a book. A whole book, though a short book. That is a serious violation of my own policy that the reading I must do for class should be the most important reading of the day. Now I am officially behind.

It was a fantastic read too, and I'm so very glad that I did it. Though now that it's over I feel very deflated, because I know that I don't get to read it again. I could, though I don't think it's that sort of book. In fact, the magazine that this column is in is very expensive, and I'm sitting on my couch trying to decide if I should get a subscription to it just for the column by this author. But the thought of living now, without this column, is sad and so I fear I'm left with no choice.

Ah, the delight that comes from reading about what other people are reading. It looks like I might be shelling out the $35 dollars for another year of this.

When I first got my

When I first got my car, the salesman took some time to explain all the features to me. He explained how the air filtering system worked, how the traction control went on and off, and the mileage count that deals with my service needs. And then he said, "These are the fog lamps. NEVER under ANY circumstance use THIS BUTTON unless it is VERY foggy. DO NOT press this button even ACIDENTALLY. It HAS to be foggy. There must be FOG to use the fog lamps." Even now (and I got this car almost four years ago), I giggle when thinking of the strident tone in his voice. Once, when it *hush* wasn't foggy, I pressed the button to see what would happen. As far as I know, nothing bad happened, but maybe in the BMW headquarters, someone was struck down suddenly: "CURSES! They're used the fog lamps in good weather, Dieter!"

Anyway, being as it was very foggy this morning, I did turn my fog lamps on. But I really can't tell a difference. I mean, the area around me is just as lit as with the fog lamps off. Seems like the headlights illuminate just fine.

But at least I had my lights on! I can't tell you how many cars I saw (or had a hard time seeing, I suppose) without their lights on. When the fog is so thick that cars seem to appear suddenly on the other side of the road, it's foggy enough for your headlights. It's also just foggy enough to be dangerous--because if a car can't see your lights, what's to stop them from turning in front of you, or changing lanes at exactly the wrong moment? Besides, it's not as if many, many cars speeding at you (you know, on the other side of the street) aren't visible in the fog by their lights. Generally, in fact, I'm a very dedicated headlight flasher. (Oh ra ha ha ha ha ha, that sounds terrible!) If I see someone driving around in a dangerous (or unlawful, as it is unlawful to drive in IL with your headlights off when your windshield wipers are on--and I know someone who got stopped for this, even though her lights were on) situation with no headlights, I flash my own, either on and off, or my brights, to let them know, "Hey sucker, you're gonna get killed." I was so disgruntled by the idiots this morning, though, that I didn't do anything. I didn't want to turn mine off for even a minute, being as it is VERY DANGEROUS and didn't relish the idea of being killed. And being killed to stop someone else from possibly being killed.

Headlights seem like the kind of thing you turn on "just in case". I mean, it does no harm to put them on. Better to be safe than sorry. Alive than dead. Unticketed than ticketed. Of course, I might just be neurotic.

I think I must seem

I think I must seem very detached in class. (Don't worry, I'll stop talking about class in August.) In fact, I think that a lot of the women think I don't care about it. While everyone else scrambles for their syllabus every time the teacher says "syllabus syllabus syllabus" (ok, I've never had a teacher say that), I kind of just sit back and listen.

First of all, I do care. I care too disturbingly much in my opinion. Even if I don't panic in class, I come home and sometimes have a little panic cry. Or bitch session, depending if S is around.

Second of all, I'm really very good at remembering what has been said to me, and what I have seen on a piece of paper. So I don't ask too many questions, and I don't make a fuss looking for whatever paper the teacher is talking about. I know some people learn by repeating things, and by hearing things repeated, but I don't. In fact, I find the constant repitition slightly (okay, more than slightly) annoying. So when I sit back with a vacant look on my face, I'm either 1, annoyed, or 2, daydreaming. I daydream a lot. Always have. I also doodle extensively, but that's because I tend to remember things better if I've been writing while these things are being said. In fact, sometimes doodling is more effective than notes.

I'm also very good at not questioning my own work. I generally remember that it is almost always better to go with your first response, simply because you haven't cluttered all your brain with the second guesses and the marginally relevant information. Hence, while everyone else muses about how our group's answers might be wrong, I sit back and think, "If we change this answer, we'll get this wrong." And the truth is, I'm not often wrong about that. I try to avoid scrupulously the temptation to change answers on tests. I usually do so to bad results. Even guesses are better left alone, because your first guess is probably the best you can do.

I think part of the problem is that we tend to over-analyze, and many, many of the women in my classes could do with stepping back from the hyper-complications they dream up in their heads. Simple is usually right. Not always, but it helps if you can simply let go of the complications you're imagining and listen to the teacher. I think that is one other problem: taking notes tends to make it so that people don't listen. Some people just cannot write and listen, so five minutes after the last note is taken, people start asking obvious questions. They pretty much just didn't hear the answer; it's not that they're dumb, they just haven't listened properly. And in fact, in one of my classes, so much of what we think we should be writing down is already written down, in the workbook. So it's a waste of time for all of us, when you're taking unnecessary notes and not listening.

I guess I'm frustrated, because I feel like I could be learning SOOOOO much, if we just moved a little bit faster. But I understand that not everyone learns as quickly as I do. And that's my school rant of the day.

The meme was for fun,

The meme was for fun, but this might be serious. Or not. I never can tell before.

Today in class (and I will try to be vague, in case someone from class is reading this), I think I shocked the pants off the women in the class. We have to create this imaginary city, where we will be determining collection development policy for the library of the city, and I thought immediately, "oooooooh, Utopia." And whenever I think of Utopia, I think of Herland, by Charlotte Perkins Gilman (and though I've read it, not Thomas More). Gilman imagined Utopia as a place where there were no men. The book, frankly, is awful. And Gilman never convincingly imagines how women will conceive children without men, which makes for some hilarity when a group of women sit down and read the book. (Think real hard about wanting a child, and POOOOOF! You're preggers.)

However, since I always think of Herland, I decided, why not make my city full of women. And only women. The thing was, this was a group project, and I didn't want to be the only voice. Anyway, I suggested it, and my group went for it, and got really into it. Great suggestions, the whole nine yards. And since we're discussing this in a library context, no one brought up sex. Fine, I figure you leave "Ladyville" and you can do whatever the hell you want. After we figured most of our details out (demographics, library details, specific issues facing our town), one member of my group turned to me and said, "Oh, you're the first president of Ladyville." I quickly told her that traditional government wouldn't be for a group of progressive women, because traditional government is inherently patriarchal.

Uh-oh. I think that I overstepped. (Maybe I should add that when I personally picked out a collection dev. policy off the web last night, it was a policy for UCSB's Women's Studies department/library coll. And no, I did not know the assignment about the city last night.) I think that by and far, I'm sitting among a conservative group of women every day in class, who think conservatively. I would bet that if you asked them if they were feminists, a good half to three quarters of them would sneer derisively and say "NO WAY." Fine, we all don't label ourselves the same way, but I suspect many of them would agree with the basic principles and guiding ideas of feminism. I can't say for sure. And a lot of these women are whip-smart. Really quick, really intelligent. (Okay, save for the technology issue.)

Back to Ladyville. When I told the class our idea (because I was chosen to speak for our group), there were several amused looks, and one woman said, "Boy, that will be some deprived group of women." To which I replied, "Maybe, maybe not. Just saying, is all." I think that really went over well. You know, like a lead balloon. Like a boat made of swiss cheese. I wasn't really implying anything, just that women can, and do, sometimes live without men. Do I? No, I love my S. And I do feel certain attachments to other men. I have some amazing friends who are men (and in fact, seem to find that I find better friends sometimes in men. But that, my dears, is a whole 'nother can of worms.), and yet I find myself fantasizing about a community of just women. Would it be like Lord of the Flies? Would women automatically form themselves into the institutions that men have formed us into? Would a group of women form themselves into family units? Or are we looking at commune style living? I could run with this scenario for days. It never ceases to be interesting, the different permutation of ideas that run together.

One women in my group made an amazing point about the whole thing--she conceptualized a household unit that was very multi-generational. Retired women living with working women living with children. Built in child-care. Women banding together to create positive home environments for children. But really, there's only so far you can go with a group of women (in the class) who are unwilling to admit to the radical possibilities.

Troublingly, I felt like announcing to the class, "No really, I do have a boyfriend." What the fuck? That's not like me. I never had a problem telling people I liked girls when I liked a girl, so why this reaction? I fought it back, because frankly, it would do these women good to be exposed to diverse sexualities. I do have a boyfriend, it's true. But that's because I love him, not because he's a boy. So essentially, I came out in class today. As a radical, as a feminist, and maybe some women in the class think other things about me. That's okay. I don't need to be seen as straight. I'd rather not be assumed to be anything, really.

Except for a feminist. You can assume I'm a feminist. I think I've basically decided that if I'm to be the lone voice of feminism in these classes, then I'd better make it loud. Not hard for me. Just maybe scary for some of the more conservative women in the classes.

****And incidentally, you'd think that as women going into a woman-dominated field, but where men hold the majority of the power positions, you'd think we'd be a little louder about this shit.

This is too irresistible not

This is too irresistible not to do. And I'm not normally a meme kind of a girl.

CD I have in my car that I roll up the windows to listen to
I'm not sure that I'm embarrassed about anything. Okay, that's a lie. I don't like to admit that I sort of like Justin Timberlake. But I wouldn't roll up the windows--I like loud music and that necessitates the opening of the windows whenever possible.

Book I read flat so no one could see the title
Most romance novels I read.

Crappiest song ever sung at karaoke
I have never done karaoke. Not a lie.

Bad movie I watch repeatedly
Party Girl. Come on, she wants to go to library school!

Article of clothing I love though I know it's wrong
I honestly don't know how to answer this question.

What I order at the bar when no one is listening
Uh. I don't order at the bar. Ever, because I don't drink. But if I had to choose, I guess it would be a dirty girl scout. And don't ask what's in it, because I don't know.

Fast food item I adore
I'm pretty sure that I could eat a Quarter Pounder every day. If I wanted to weigh 5 million pounds.

A TV show that is a good example of the downfall of civilization that I love anyway
America's Next Top Model

If you feel so inclined, do the meme in my comments, or even just tell me the answers to one or two. Or, if you want, do so at your own blog.

That I love Peter Dinklage?

That I love Peter Dinklage? No.

I love Peter Dinklage.

Consider yourself so informed.

See, I've been trying out

See, I've been trying out this thing, this "life-style" thing, called Weight Watchers. Like my sister. My sister had a lot of success with it, and so I decided to do it. To figure out how I should be eating (because obviously whatever I was doing was not working), and then adhere to that. It's nice, because I don't feel like I'm denying myself much (though someday, a nasty Macaroni and Cheese craving will rear its ugly head) and I still get to eat a fair amount of things that I love. Like hummus. Hummus is good.
I was exploring my restaurant options, and happened upon the Roly Poly list. Roly Poly is the best place ever to eat if you're doing WW. I eat at Roly Poly almost every day. A six-inch Roly (as they call them in the place) can be as little as 3 points (if you like veggies, which I do), and don't mind whole wheat tortillas (which I don't). Frankly, the options are practically endless if you save up your points. So I've initiated S into the cult of Roly. He likes the Turkey Applejack, which I could never eat, due to the massive amount of apple butter on the thing. Still, I feel practically addicted to Roly Poly. And the truth is, even though the options are endless, until tonight, I had only ever eaten two different ones. They're both veggie ones, and so low in points that I've been making that my lunch. I'll be a regular in another week or so. (And did I mention they're fairly cheap? My lunch costs usually about $3.50.)

So I suppose if you're not dieting, but you're looking for some apparently good-for-you fast food, Roly Poly is the way to go. If only I would have known before Christmas. Then I could have asked for Roly Poly gift certificates.

In other news, S told me not to put my car in the garage tonight, because he doesn't think there will be an issue with it staying out. I have to go to class early in the morning (and he doesn't work until 11), and I told him that if there was something icy to scrape off my windshield, he was going to have to scrape it off. He agreed. If he actually has to get out of bed at 8 to scrape, when he could stay in bed until 10 if he wanted to, I will laugh. I will laugh until I pee my pants.

I have been working on

I have been working on homework for a good hour and a half now, with no end in sight! No, that's not true. I'm actually about half-way through, so there is an end in sight. I don't mind it though, because I find it very difficult, so it keeps my attention very easily.

But I will say this: if I don't dream about commas and periods and semi-colons, oh MY! tonight, it will be a miracle. For those of you who don't know but want to know, (and for those of you who do know, or who don't know and don't want to know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. This might get boring.) library cataloguing is mostly concerned with the entry of the material, be it book, CD, DVD or other, into the library's catalog. Now, this is a code. It's a strange, often seemingly byzantine code that is uber-grammar-y. There are proscribed rules for capitalization, and unfortunately for librarians, they seem to go against all the other rules you ever learned about capitalization in your life. Sort of. And then there is the punctuation. It doesn't matter what you learned about punctuation, as long as you know what the individual pieces of punctuation are (ie the comma, the period, the colon, the semi-colon, etc). Catalog punctuation is different from all of it. Again, it's a code, and basically, you just have to memorize it. But because not all books are published with the same amount/quality of information, there is a lot of gray area. It's hard to explain, but if you go take two books off your shelf, you will see that on the title page, the info. isn't necessarily the same. Maybe there is no date. Or incomplete publishing information. So then you, as the cataloguing librarian, would have to find that information on the verso page (the back of the title page) or uh-oh. Learn the codes for missing information.

Anyway, all this stuff is what I'm learning now. Sometimes I just have to admit to myself that I simply don't know the answer, and looking through the chapter of AACR2* again and again isn't going to yield any more information than it did the first four times I read it. But I do like it. I think I told one of my profs. from last quarter that I had two competing voices in my head, one that told me that reference was where I belonged, and one that told me that perhaps cataloguing was better suited to me. It's not a surprise to learn that I like cataloguing, after all, but just a confirmation. I still don't know, but I do know that it might be best if I was completely able to work any and all parts of a library at will. I really would like a job, I think, where I could do both during a normal week. This does differentiate me from the majority of librarians, however, who seem to form very strong attachments to their departments.

And to tell you the truth, I would LOOOVE a crack at Reader's Advisory. I think I'd rock out at the RA desk. So maybe I can find that perfect job (HA!) where I get to do all three things. Maybe two. Maybe only one. But let's put it this way: with the ability and the willingness to do all three, I am a triple threat, and probably desirable. At least by a library's viewpoint.

*AACR2 is the Anglo-American Cataloguing Rules, 2nd edition. I'm using the 2002 revision, which comes in a big, gigantic binder that is HUGELY fat. HUGELY. Uncarryaroundable.