further perils ...

She called again, my little old lady with a thing for 1950's Australian fashion. This time she has a name: Wendy. I had though being at a different branch today may act as a buffer. I was wrong. Not only did she find me at AN but she kept me on the phone for 15 minutes. If it had been a new enquiry I probably wouldn't have minded, as it was I spent the time looking for more informaiton on Bobo Faulkner. There wasn't anything new since Friday. Wendy said she'd call the State Library to see what else they could do, so she may end up coming across Miss A. Gotta share the love after all.

For now I have to brave "knifepoint" to get a birthday card for Miss T. She was 31 yesterday. After working together and sharing a house for two years, it is still strange not seeing her everyday. I also have to find something for Miss R's birthday between now and the 9th. It is always possible that I may find something while we are away, it I don't get distracted by the food. Red Hill market has awesome food. I'm still dreaming of the little japanese cakes I had last time; macha and red bean. So good. 

Must remember to pack the baggy pants.

more library love

Every so often the council like to check that those of us down at the library are servicing the community. This means that the "Feedback Tablet" makes it's way around the branches. Today it was at Alt. Most patrons have seen it before, and as such ignore it. Much easier than taking a few minutes to recognise just how much work the library staff put in to running their local branch. 

But, every now and then, someone actually looks at the thing while I'm putting their books through. This is probably one of the better conversation I had. 

Guy looks at it, "What's this for?" 
ME: "That's there to tell us all how much you love us."
Guy leans over, puts his hands on mine: "I love you."
ME: "As you should."

Now I'm sure that the little old lady who came in on the end of the conversation was very confused. The guy and I had a chuckle, I gave him his books and he went on his way. This is why I like public libraries. I don't see that happening in an academic or specialist library.

Do I stick it out with the public system and pray that a full time job will come up before I hit 40, or do I try my hand with the academics? Decisions, decisions. Either way, job hunting sucks.

Perils of the reference desk

Ok, so anyone who wasn't at Miss A's BBQ may not have heard of my marathon phone question late last week. Basically I spent 25 minutes on the phone with a little old lady (that I'm not certain is actually a member of my library) trying to find information on Robyn Fong (fashion, 1950s). NLA's digitisation of Australians Womens Weekly (May, 1972 edition) eventually gave me something useful. She decided to call NLA to see if she could get a copy. This was after I told her several times that I could print the information for her if she came into the library. But she got what she wanted, so that wasn't my issue.

That was the end of that ... until today. My branch team leader was on desk with me this morning. She answers the phone and then hands it to me. It's the little old lady again. Apparently she had tried calling for me the other day, but I'd gone home. She had another question for me: Bobo Faulkner (fashion/tv, 1950s). After 30mins on the phone, and much trawling through Trove I was again saved by NLA's digitisation of Australians Womens Weekly (June 1973). She did ask me when I'd be in again. I should have lied, I know, but by that point I just wanted to get off the phone.

So some time in the future she will call again. She'll ask for me, and the cycle will repeat. This is the danger of giving good customer service: they remember your name and then won't talk to anyone else. If you see a librarian walking around with an ice pack on his/her ear then the chances are they have a similiar patron of their own. If you work in information management you may even end up with one (or even more) of your own. Who knows? 

One thing I do know: this was not in the brochure.

Super pav

There has been much movement in the kitchen. Today is Miss A's BBQ. I will (of course) be bringing dessert. Given that it is Australia Day there was only one option: pavlova. But a plain pav wasn't going to be enough, after all I do have a reputation to keep up. So there was experimenting to be done. With the success of the practice pav, I made a few adjustments. The final result: three tierd pav. Top layer vanilla, middle layer is rosewater, bottom layer is chocolate. Stuck together with a mountain of cream, and finished off with strawberries, raspberries, kiwi fruit, and passionfruit. Epic pav. But don't just take my word for it. Behold the pav in all it's glory.

All that remains to be done it to get it to Miss A's without it collapsing in tranisit.

mood music

Ok, so I was trying to do some work while I manned the Children's Desk @ AN this morning, something that was not going well (and I didn't finish). No real surprise there. Plus between trying to get things done, multiple children/people wanting assistance, and running to the other end of the library every time the fucking bell went, my brain managed to throw Ms L into the works. This helped my mood no end, so by the time I got home I was ready for "angry" music.

Music has a big impact on my moods. I only listen to classical music while I'm driving, (anything else and I am prone to road rage/speeding). I play jazz/swing when I have people over for dinner and conversation. When I clean I play techno. When I'm fragile I play Ani diFranco. When I'm pissed off I play music appropriate to 14yr old boys, who hate the world and everyone in it (including themselves). 

So I was all set. I had the Spawn, Dracula 2000, Preaching to the Perverted, and Matrix soundtracks ready to go, mixed with some Nine Inch Nails and a little Rage Against The Machine. Before giving myself over to my music therapy I made the few phonecalls Miss R had asked to to make, and I checked the mail. Not huge, life changing tasks (thought finding someone to mow my lawn is starting to seem like the quest for the grail), but in the end I didn't need the angry music.

Now obvioulsy the gas bill wasn't going to make a huge difference to my mood, but the other piece of mail did. There seems to be a fair amount of gratitude floating around at the moment (which, given the amount of crap that has been circulating over the last six weeks, is a nice change). Last week chocolate roses, this week a card from the blood bank. 

To be fair, the nurses always say thank you each time I donate, and I don't expect a card from every single person who benefits from my donating plamsa/platelets, (38% of Australians have blood type A, so that's a hell of a lot of cards). I don't do it for recognition. I do it because it's the only way I can contribute. I never have any money to give to charity, and my schedule doesn't leave me time to volunteer, so donating for me is the best option. With that said I think I am entitled to feel a little proud that out of the 26 fortnights in a year, I donated in 24 of them. My arms may have more scar tissue that your average heroin junkie, and three quarters of the nurses may hide until I'm actually hooked up to the machine (the scar tissue makes getting the neddle into me rather challenging), but it's worth it.

No matter how big an arsehole people may think I am, or how terrible they may believe I've made their lives, the two hours I spend in that chair every other Thursday makes a huge difference to people all over the country (and their families).

And that feels fucking awesome.

family trials

So, the universe has decided that my life has managed to get too simple over the last week or so.  When I got home tonight I got the "Call your brother," talk from Miss R.  It seems Miss R and Miss H have been talking. As most siblings will tell you, when your partners start talking to each other there is usually trouble to follow. In this case it relates to our youngest sibling, my little sister.

Now, as everyone is aware we went north for a few days over christmas. Given the duration of our visit we did not manage to see my little sister. They have christmas at my Dads place (where my brother and I aren't welcome), and then usually have boxing day with my step-mothers family. Since we flew home the day after boxing day we didn't get to see my sister. In fact, (and I'm the first to admit that I'm in the wrong), I didn't even call to let her know we'd be there. In my defence, I was about 14 days into my funk, and really in no state to be making any judgement calls.

So, justifiably, her feeling were hurt.  But, having said that, she did not make any effort to contact any of us either. I will call my brother tomorrow and find out what been going on. If my sister has been in contact with Miss H (apparently full of tears and recriminations), then we will need to figure out what we will need to do to fix this. Everything is such a drama when you're 14.

I've also got my new laptop out of the box. Haven't really had much time to play with it yet. Hopefully tomorrow. Maybe after I've finished my long list of chores. Plus I've got the two most recent Buffy comics to catch up on as well. And a trip to JB to pick up the new Adele cd.

Could also do without the random thoughts of Ms L ... Stupid brain.

twilight zone

 

Today was one of these weird days. You know, the one where you're cruising along, minding your own business, and the next thing you know you find you've entered the Twilight Zone. 

Shifts out at AM library have always been interesting. I do tend to throw a lot of kids out of that branch. To be fair I only throw out the feral children, and they do get two warnings first. Being school holidays, I was more than ready for that to be the case today. There was one small incident, but otherwise the shift was drama free. This was weird for AM, but not completely unheard of. No, the weird thing was that after spending a considerable amount of time helping a library patron (not unsusal), this person said thank you. Always a rare experience, but it didn't stop there. This person actually left the library and then came back with a token to express her gratitude. I was stunned. Even now, hours after the event I am still stunned. I've left them on the bench so that Miss R can also be stunned.

Tomorrow I am off into the city to see the Doc, and to also get my new laptop. I need to be back for the staff meeting, so I will have to make sure I don't get sidetracked by any comic book stores on the way. A big ask, I know, but I will do my best. 

I had a momentary funk relaspe today. Nothing major, just a twinge. It's hard when someone you find beautiful doesn't see it themselves. It also sucks when you can't tell them, or make them see it, because they don't want to hear it (or at least not hear it from you). But such is life.

Not everyone can have an ego as big as mine.

other people's funk

Miss R and Ms S joined me for this evenings roast. The roast was awesome, as all my roasts are. It's hard to go wrong when they all start with garlic and onions, at least from a wog perspective. The conversation was also good. As anti-social as I am, I have to admit that I have a weakness for good conversation. I suck at small talk, mostly because I'm lousy at faking interest. Apparently this makes me a really good listener, as some people are happy just to have someone to talk at (rather than to). But I digress.

While Miss R was on clean up duty, Ms S and I had a chat about our recent brushes with "the funk." Ms S has been keeping busy, catching up with everyone she left behind since her grand tour. She freely admits that she's in denial about the whole thing, but despite that she is doing ok. The last three weeks for her have been one long play date, and felt she confident that Ms B was doing the same thing (despite the fact that Ms B has made no contact with her in the last three weeks). Ms S was therefor rather surprised to find that Ms B has not been enjoying her new freedom. In fact, Ms B has been in a serious funk. A serious laying on the couch for three weeks funk. 

Now I am the first to admit that you have no control over when a funk hits, or how long it will last for. However, I do find it a little odd that Ms B can dump her girlfriend at christmas, and then go straight into a funk over the whole situation (especially when you consider that the situation is entirely of her own making). 

I would like to say that I was a better person, and did not enjoy for a brief moment the thought of Ms L suffering her own funk over how our friendship imploded. But I can't. I may be an arsehole, but I am at least an honest arsehole. I can take a modicum of comfort that my moment of pettiness was brief. I doubt very much that she is sitting at home, watching all seven seasons of the West Wing, playing with her blythe dolls, and thinking that maybe she over-reacted, or that she misses our friendship. And if by some infinitesimal chance I am wrong (highly unlikely, but stranger things have happened), and Ms L is in a funk, then I can honestly say I take no joy in that. But like I said, it's not likely.

After all, the olive branch probably ended up in the green waste bin.

play date take 2

Ms Ali and I are going to try and have our play date tomorrow.  Very trashy movie @ The Sun Theatre, followed by chocolate for lunch @ Co'klat. Chocolate waffle, with ianilla ice cream and melted white chocolate all over, possibly with strawberries if I feel the need to be healthy. Wash it all down with a milk hot chocolate (with more vanilla ice cream of course) and I should be ready for my diabetic coma by the time I get home.

I'm still feeling good, if a little tired. I managed to oversleep on Sunday. It's been so long since I had such a solid block of sleep that my body has forgotten how to cope. I'm sure it will revert soon enough.

Last week I was having phone issues. It's playing nicely for the moment, which is good as I still haven't made a decision on what I want. This has been complicated by the fact that new dual-processor smartphones are also due this year. So I have decided to instead focus on the other tech-dinosaur in my life; my laptop. To be fair, it has served me well over the last 5 years. And it would probably continue to do so, if it weren't for a few things. The biggest issue is that I can't move it. There is a lose wire somewhere inside my screen, and it shuts everything down if you bump the screen. I then have to take out the battery each time, otherwise it will not allow the computer to restart. Not much of a laptop if it has to stay open on the desk every time I want to use it. I plan to replace it with this. 

For now I have a lamb roast in the oven, which will keep me occupied for a little while. And I am all psyched for Miss A's BBQ next week. Have got plans for two pav's, so nobody misses out. 

Can't run the risk of anyone going hungry.

But in the garden of simple ...

The good mood continues. I know, I'm even starting to freak myself out. Though I did have a few moments of pettiness the last three days. Actaully it works out to one each day, so I guess that's not too bad. The cardinal rule is to never piss off your librarian. Especially not when I am the librarian in question. I will continue to smile at you, and tell you everything that you don't want to (but need to) hear. And then, once you have gone, I will fuck you up! Some examples of this from the last few days are:

• I will send emails to my boss letting her know in advance all about the little temper tantrum you had because your supended account wouldn't let you use the internet. I will also include the details of how you demanded that I find a way to work around the software just so you could use the internet, becasue you are a library patron and you pay your rates. (Seriously, when the rates argument comes out it's time to go home, you're only embarassing yourself).

• I will make sure that the book you still haven't finished reading, even though you've had it for 9 fucking weeks, will be given a chance to be borrowed by someone else. (Even if that someone happens to be Miss R, who thought the whole thing was hysterical, especially when I produced the book at the end of the story).

• And lastly, arguing with me about the library's opening time will not make me open the doors any earlier. We run on council time. All the clocks are set to council time. I don't care what your watch says, and jumping up and down won't change anything, though it may improve you chance of a heart attack and given that it's been a really long time since I did CPR I really don't think I feel comfortable thumping on your chest. Actually, that's not true. I could have happily thumped this woman.

I'm not good first thing in the morning, as anyone who knows me will attest to. Anyone that tries to talk to me for that first hour ... it's just better not to. Every now and then Miss R forgets this, and tries to have an indepth conversation while I'm trying to eat my cereal. It does not end well. 

Other than that life is moving along. Am looking for full time work with another library, as there seems little chance of me getting something where I am unless someone dies. I am happy in a community library, but there are a few academic library jobs advertised at the moment. Hard to know what would be best. 

Was talking to a friend about my funk, and everything that lead up to it (plus my epiphany). She said something rather interesting. She said, and I quote: "Your 'friend' is behaving like a scorned lover, not a friend. I think you're better off without her." I hadn't looked at it that way. 

I guess perspective is everything.

technical issues

My phone has not been playing nicely. Which is not completely unexpected, as it is an old old phone. I have been putting off getting a new one for a while, but may finally have to bite the bullet. I can't have anything apple related, unless I want Miss R to murder me with it in my sleep. I'm torn between a nice shiney smartphone, or a no-frills mobile. Given that I'm still playing with my blog/twitter I might be better off going with a smart phone, but part of me thinks that I'll probably lose interest and would be better off getting something basic. Decisions decisions.

On the funky front I'm still feeling good. Did give in to the stupidity impulse earlier, and tried to make contact, but didn't get through. Didn't really expect to, but figured it was worth trying. Seems a shame to write-off what had been shaping up to be a promising friendship, but such is life. Even Hawm of the "infinite patience" has to draw the line somewhere.

Off to the bloodbank tomorrow. Hopefully no needle issues. The feeling like a balloon is trying to inflate inside your vein is not one I care to repeat. Pain may build character, but I'd like to think I have more than enough character by now.

good mood, post-funk

30 days seems to be my limit. Even though I was rudely awakened before 9am, by Ms Ali canceling our play date, I have been in a good mood all day. Actually, that's an understatement. I've been in a fucking brilliant mood all day. Nothing seems to bother me. The funk has moved on. Huzzah!

Of course this euphoria does leave one feeling supremely over-confident, which has it's own dangers. Mostly stupidity. Case in point, I told Miss R about my epiphany. She was less than thrilled. She did however make an effort to be glad for me, having finally come out the other side of the cloud I've been living under, before she went off in her own funk.

Thankfully, I got distracted before I did the other stupid thing (called Ms L). Not entirely sure what I would have said anyway. Given my current mood I probably would have either gone off on some tangent, or conducted a reference interview on why she is ignoring me. Don't think either of those options would have been particularly helpful, but I find the mental images funny.

No idea how tomorrow will pan out. Hopefully the good mood will remain, and the stupidity impulse will move one. Otherwise I may need someone to take my phone off me. Any volunteers?

epiphany: fancy word for that feeling that often leads to the phrase "Oh fuck"

Was sitting on the couch, happily writing and listening to the Mumford & Sons album when I was smacked in the back of the head with a lump of 2x4. Obviously not literally, though it would explain the disorientation and the nausea.

As we all know I've been in a funk for a little while, (30 or so days is a little while in the grand scheme of things). Most of the details are unimportant. A misunderstanding that resulted in hurt feelings, and a wall of silence. But I haven't been able to let it go. Given how hard it is for me to care about most things, this is unusual. True, Ms L was the first person I really felt connected to since my Pop died, but still I did not expect the hole that she left to be as large as it was. Or, more accurately, it still is.

My usual strategy of ignoring it isn't working. Keeping busy (with Library Thing, work, reading, gaming, baking) isn't working either. It runs interference, but doesn't make it go away. I did feel a hell of a lot better while I was writing, and have the makings of a reasonable story (if not an overly happy one). How does this relate to feeling concussed? Well, I finally figured out the shape of the hole. The hole is not a friend shaped hole. And while this may not be a shock to anyone else, it was a shock to me. Hence the disorientation.

So what does this mean? Honestly? Not a fucking clue. What I do know is this:

Ms L wants nothing to do with me.

Miss R loves me. 

Realisticlly, that should be the end of it. But if that were the case, I shouldn't still be in this funk. Like I said, "Oh fuck." 

I think I need a new heart. This one obviously has a masochistic steak a mile wide, and is likely to get me killed.

being the older brother

One of the responsibilities of being an older brother is trying to give useful advice to your younger siblings. Given how many siblings I have, and the varying gaps in our ages, this is something I've had to do a lot. Whether it's the best way to make french toast (1tsp of vanilla in the egg mix, soak the bread all the way through), or the correct way to shatter knee caps (a length of wood 2x4 between the knees, gaffa tape legs together above and below the knees, introduce sledgehammer to wood), I do my best to be as informative as possible. Something I'm sure would cause my parents and step-parents much consternation, if they actually had any idea exactly what the kids were asking.

Todays advice is about dating. I know, given what has been going on in my life of late, that this probably seems  ridiculous. However, if you can suspend your disbelief, at least for a little while, I think you may be surprised. My little sister, who will be 15 this July, is behind this post. For some reason she is under the impression that if you keep going back to a guy who treats you like shit, it only proves that you haven't given up hope that he will change. Apparently this exercise in futility doesn't make you stupid, just hopelessly romantic. It would appear that feminism, common sense, and self respect has missed this generation.

In order to be the best older brother I can I am posting my rules for dating below.

Hawm's Rules for Dating:

1. It you hit me, you're gone.
2. If you cheat on me, you're gone.
3. If it's a good enough reason to break up, it is a good enough reason not to get back together.

These are the main three. There are of course others, such as:

• Lie to me about big stuff,  you're gone. (I dated a compulsive liar. She put me through a rape/pregnancy/pregnancy with twins/miscarriage/cervical cancer. None of it was real).
• Read my email/go through my stuff, and I will cease to trust you.
• Steal from me, you're gone.
• Dependency on drugs (other than diagnosed medical condition) and/or alcohol, you're gone. (I grew up with alcoholics, and have dated people with drug/alcohol issues. Being subjected to drug/alcohol induced rages, having junkies breaking into your house while you're sleeping, getting raided by the police ... It's not worth it).

I'm sure you can add others. I know I can think of several more. The point is that even if you are prepared to compromise on some things (and compromise is a healthy part of any relationship), there are limits to what anyone should have to put up with. 

No one has the right to treat you like shit, and tell you that it's love.

/big brother advice

more library thing and planned distractions

715 books later and I've nearly finished all the books in the house. As far as projects go this one has kept me busy. Unfortunately I only have two more shelves to go. Once I've done those, and sorted out the books I remember reading, but don't actually have a physical copy  of (for whatever reason), the project will be over. So then what?

Uni doesn't go back for a while, so I will need to find something else to keep my mind occupied. I have half a dozen books from the library to read, but even those won't keep me going for long. So rather than dwell on my lousy judgement, I am making play dates with some of my girls.

Will catch up with both Ms S and Miss T tomorrow afternoon. Have a movie play date with Ms Ali on Tuesday (we had picked a suitably trashy movie, but it looks like that one doesn't open until Thursday). Miss R and I are going to see "Tangled" on Monday night. Also spending Thursday with the ladies @ the blood bank. Hopefully no bruises this week. Left arm is still bruised from last visit, so they'll have to wade through the scar tissue in my right arm. I may take an ice pack, just in case.

Of course the highlight of this weekend will be the practice pavlova I'm making tomorrow. Got to make sure I have the perfect pav for Miss A's bbq. 

Baking makes most things better. Probably because we can eat our mistakes.

library thing

I've been filling my down time with useful exercises. Many years ago my ex (the one before Miss R) catalogued the books I had in my room. From memory there were 300+ at that point in time. Roughly 5 years later and the computer with that list has long ceased to function (much like that relationship). So, after some discussion with the girls at work (and a chat with Miss R), my final act of 2010 was to start an account on LibrayThing.

Five days later and I am 328 books in. There is a separate pile of books that will need original cataloguing, but I'm ignoring those for now. I still have two bookshelves in the study to go and then I'll have finished. Well, finished except for the previously mentioned pile that I'm ignoring. And of course everything I've read, but don't actually have a copy of. And all the books still at my nan's. Or my books that my brother has. Or the bags of books my ex fathers-in law have.

This could take longer than I orginally planned.

weird dreams

Ok, so we all know that I have bizzare sleeping habits. From twitching, random elbows, snoring, insomnia, and ceasing to breathe, it is amazing that I get much sleep at all. Last night I managed to have some of my more weird dreams. Rather than go into great details I'll just share the highlights:

• I got car jacked by a bunch of rich bored teenagers. It did not end well for them.
• I was helping a pregnant woman though the exorcism of her demon baby.
• I was Prometheus chained to the rock, but instead of having my liver ripped out daily it was my heart.

Not really sure what my subconscious is trying to tell me. Perhaps less sugar before bed.