Day in the Life of the Library (Ninja)

I learned through my pal Oodja's blog that there is something super neat-0 called the Day In the Life of a Library .
I've modified this slightly to fit my Ninja title, but here goes!

8:00 AM ~ Arrive at work, affix Big Red to my head (my hard hat) and begin my construction work obstacle course. My library is under construction, set to open in the fall, so daily entry involves balancing on boards, crossing through moats, hurdling sprinkler systems and back hoes, as well as stepping in mud. Today was no exception, with the added bonus of needing to take a circuitous route to avoid walking under scaffolding and ladder. I'm very superstitious.

8:30 AM ~ the day begins! Check in for our daily "RFID" schedule. We are tagging our entire collection in anticipation of self-check out. I am a "leader" since I am the only person here who has been through the RFID process before at a former library system.
Click through emails.
Make coffee!

9:00 AM ~ settle in to birth the book babies. As the cataloging librarian, I'm responsible for inputting new non-fiction and fiction, and today is a big author day! The Girl Who Played with Fire has been released, and I need to input copies for our MAIN library and six branches. Our reserve list is over 300 for our network, so time is of the essence!

11:00 AM ~ My RFID shift will begin! We're affixing tags to the back of books, and then scanning the tag into the computer to essential duplicate the barcode and information. A physically demanding task, so it's broken up into hour-shifts so we don't exhaust our poor librarian backs.

1:00 PM ~ Website Design Meeting time! To coordinate with the grand opening of our library, we are also rolling out a new website. As the social network guru (go ahead, have a chuckle, those of you that know me well), I'm the vision behind some of the "fun" library features like Twitter, bookmarklets, blogs, Facebooks, and the like. My end goal? To start a virtual book club.

2:00 PM ~ Did my phone just ring? Damn, I thought I turned that thing off!

3:00 PM ~ Blog time! I write the staff blog, and today I'm giving an update about the construction, parking at the library (we currently have to walk from about a mile away, if we choose to get discounted parking at a city garage), and other "fun" library events. Today, I'll probably insert some information from the ALA Conference in Chicago.

4:00 PM ~ Time to wrap up my day by printing spine labels for the book babies. From here, they'll be plasti-cleared, and boxed up to be sent out to branches for our patrons to enjoy.

In here, there will be 1,000 other little questions. Where's the tape? Why does this Dewey look funny? Have you seen the Poetry books? What DVDs did we get in this week? Can you order me a bacon book? I take it all in stride! Because really, being a library Ninja is as sexy as it looks!

Kat

Ode to Miss Scandalous

ODE TO MISS SCANDALOUS
(Happy Birthday, Beeatch!)

We call you the quiet one
But I really know the deal
At New Kids back in O-C-T
Joey M. dun made you squeal

And your shoes are rather pretty
Your wardrobe makes you fly
Your hair is still quite perfect
Pedicures still make you cry

You're always up for an adventure
Road trips, wine tours, the like
We like our spas and hotel rooms
We steer clear of camping and hikes

I'm so luck you're my BFF
Through Rain, Or Sleet, or Shine
And through thick or thin, young or old
We have to keep @thediva in line!

Happy Birthday, Miss Scandalous! We're not getting old, we're getting BETTER!
XOXO

Portrait of a Library Ninja

"So, you're a librarian?"

This question is often posed to me in the quizzical sense, and usually those who pose it (minus those who are replaying some sort of pRon fantasy in their head) are asking because they are truly interested. What made you become a librarian?

Since I've moved, and we'll loosely call my new place of residence a more literate and academic sphere, I've been greeted with the misconception that I often encounter when noting that I'm a librarian. This "ideal" is that I became a librarian because I'm devoted to the preservation of classic works of literature. That my goal in my career is to harbor these cherished works and to pass them along to future generations. That I've read Anna Karenina and Madame Bovary and can instantly convey the tragic nature of their protagonists as well as cite biographical data on their creators. I'm here to tell you - I'm not this librarian. And as there are many around me who fit this bill, I, generally am not sorry. All of this is important, albeit somewhat dated, librarian work, and I leave this task to be filled by those who do it best.

So what kind of librarian am I? Well, I'm the librarian who sits for two hours at a computer with a computer illiterate senior as she fills out her application for social security. I'm the one who engages with a homeless Vet as he relays his experiences of his "previous" life. I help the recovering alcoholic find the "manual" he needs to complete his AA course, and when the depressed woman walks up to me and tells me she's considering contemplating suicide, I'm the one who reacts with appropriate measures.

I realized early on that I have a tolerance for mankind that is both blessing and curse. Where others get squeamish, I tend to shine. I have a high tolerance for body odor, can be screamed at for extended periods of time without losing my cool, and know the tell-tale signs of danger when it's present. I can sometimes see the question behind the question, and can offer my assistance in a manner that is non-judgemental and helpful. In this, I hope that I'm making an impact on someone's life, and beyond just the tween who thinks I'm "cool" for knowing Justin's Timberlake's discography.

This is not to say that staying in touch with literature is not important: I read reviews on books and every flap cover I can get my hands on, in the hope's that I can recommend or suggest works to the variety of individuals I help. I retain a good amount of knowledge and most of my friends are aware I'm a good "recommender" if nothing else. But if you're looking for that "traditional" librarian - I'm not it. I'm of the Ninja Variety, and far be it from me to deny the special gifts of patience and tolerance I've been given. And hey - if I get to use my special karate chops every now and again, then I consider that a bonus.

That's why I'm a librarian. And I love what I do.

Look into the Light

Massachusetts is a cult. I think you all should know.

I was born here. Right in the run-down former mill town of Lawrence, Massachusetts, emblazoned with the designation of being the "Stolen Car Capitol of the World". Around the age of 8 Ma and Pa Glimmer felt the need to jump the border to New Hampshire to avoid some taxes and buy a new house with a big plot of land. I didn't come back ... until now. And I've learned the hard lesson: once you leave Massachusetts, they are very unwilling to let you return.

My first indication came when I went to file my taxes. I was "rejected" as a new resident because I had the audacity to E-file. Not here, New Resident, they warned me. When you are "new", you must file a tax return ala Cave-Man and send in your taxes chiseled into stone. A blood sampling and DNA test are also required. While I was still scratching my head on this one, I changed my name (don't worry, to all of you, I'm still Glimmer). THIS is when my massive oversight was caught - I had, indeed, lived in Massachusetts before and - what's this? LEFT THE STATE? How DARE I! So the "Department of Revenue" (Mass gives their government offices other names to make sure they are really confusing to "outsiders") decided to ACCEPT my taxes, but hold my HOSTAGE refund. I'm still trying to get it back!

Next, was my trip to the RMV (that's "DMV" for all others, see what I mean?). The first trip went fine but a return trip subsequently had me flagged for a speeding ticket I received 13 years ago. Now mind you - this ticket had long since been PAID. But, the RMV "flags" you and does a little song and dance to remind you that *they* know you're a naughty driver, and so now do ALL the people behind you in line.

And, let's talk about the tickets. I mean - really? Not one parking ticket in my life and I'm up to like three or four since moving here. One because I was too close to a curb (how far away from the damn things are you SUPPOSED to be? Are they fragile or something?) and the other for not being able to decipher yet another cryptic parking sign that somehow contained instructions for all four seasons and a nuclear meltdown yet didn't manage to allude to matter at hand.

I get it Massachusetts! I promise never to leave the state again unless he's rich, owns a yacht, knows "a lot" is actually two words, and uses bacon ad both a noun and a verb. But in the meantime, please don't torture me with any Jury Duty, more obscure taxes (excise tax? what does THAT do?) or for the love of god, more parking tickets (I fear you're not listening on this last part). I'll attempt to be a good Mass girl, observe an actual "yield" sign like most of your other residents do (note: drive really, really fast), not make fun of your toll booths (I mean, advertisements? are you serious?) and not complain about any of the local sporting events (Nomar! What happened to Nomar!).

Your truly and with lots of love,
Kat Glimmer

Love and Hate

Colette and I spend a great deal of time analyzing which planetary alignments are forming and what their outcome will be for us. We believe that when Jupiter was in retrograde, that's when an infestation of rodents (and one bunny) descended open on our home. When Mercury was spinning, that's when all of our technological appliances = fail. And at the end of December, when Saturn eclipsed a bunch of her moons, we turned on the oven in the house for almost five days straight ... in a ROW!

So, it appears our lives are encountering a bit of the "crazies" yet again. In light of this, I bring you this post: Things Colette and I Love and Hate

We Hate:

Verizon. Their complete incompetence has left me without stable Internet connection for the entire time that I've lived in Boston. There incestuous relationship with Direct TV has caused constant billing issues. And their customer support, while polite and well meaning, is utterly useless.

Direct TV: We need to call once every three or four days to have a phone agent "reboot" our cable box, usually as we are settling down to watch the all important Jon and Kate Plus Eight. Additionally, the purchase of a "movie" through Direct TV requires a complicated system of wires, a secret pass code, a rocket ship, and some Necco wafers. Yeah, we don't understand it either. So help us if they dare to interrupt the The Hills ...

Facebook. Oh, Facebook, you wacky social network you. Thank you for updating our "relationship" status and causing a whirlwind of misguided ideas to all of the Interwebs. Thank you for your brilliant "photo tagging" which causes us to need to be on constant alert from those pictures from ten years ago when we first tried Goldshlagger. And thank you for your vampire kisses, tramp stamps, green little patch invites, and the like. Really, our days could not begin without them

Squirrels - Ninja Fucker kind or otherwise. We know you believe in karma, you little rats you. And we're *watching* you.

We Love:

Our Wii. Many a night has passed with Wii Cheerleading on the brain. When we miss the gym, we Wii box. When we have too much wine, we play Wii trivia. Yes, we are two single females. Yes, there are no children in sight. Yes, we use the Wii to lure unsuspecting men to the home in the hopes of seducing them into performing some light home repairs in return for some Wii Tennis. We are not ashamed. NOT ASHAMED!

The Tent: If, as an adult, you have not had an opportunity to sleep in a tent INDOORS, you are sorely missing out. Tents provide security from late-night attacking rodents, as well as a warm exterior, pretty colors, and complete comfort! If you come to the Benoir/Glimmer house, our tent(s) are wired for sounds and electricity. And of course, since we are PRETENDING to participate in an outdoor activities, we can count this as our nature allotment for the year.

Shovels: If you come and visit Benoir and Glimmer at any point during the year, you will find us armed with our favorite weapon of choice: the shovel. The shovel is a multiple-purpose and handy weapon. Thus far, we have used it to beat the crap out of: A box of Cheez-It's, some old mail, a trash bag we assumed had a mouse in it, and our neighbors car when she wasn't looking. Pretty soon, CB and I will be launching a nationwide contest to "Pimp My Shovel", as soon as MTV picks up the rights. You heard it here first!

High Fiber Wheat Thins: Mmm... yummy.

So, there you have it folks - the first installment of "Love and Hate" from yours truly! Stay tuned for more as winter turns spring, and more exploits are sure to come our way.

The Chipmunk Chase

My phone rings at 11:11, and I see that it's @colettebenoir. Now, keep in mind, Colette and I live together, but our house is big and it's not uncommon for us to call each other. I have just settled into bed after a few glasses of wine, but CB is breathless: "Kat, there's a chipmunk in the house!". "A what?". "A chipmunk!".
Now, I haven't lived with CB very long, but I have been made aware that in no way, shape or form does she like rodents, reptiles, birds or insects (this was demonstrated when she held @Kittyrocks up to a spider once, apparently so Kitty could disintegrate it with her X-Ray eyes). However, I am amazed that I did not hear Colette scream from the living room (screaming "Kat Glimmer", btw, lest my real name confuse me) where the Chipmunk, amusingly called "Alvin", made a brief appearance before Colette's shrill scream scared him back out of the room.

Now, really - you have to be around CB and I long enough to realize our plans of action are usually without much forethought or logic, but are generally terribly amusing. When I came down the stairs, I was instantly whisked into our living room with the door shut.

Plan #1 was to barricade ourselves into the living room to avoid Alvin and any potential peers. I'm not sure how long we were going to stay there - until the local delivery places got tired of passing us food through the window, or until one of us eventually would need to report to friends or family. But, I'm pretty sure that Plan #1 would have come with barricading ourselves in should we not have moved on to Plan #2. I was just glad that if we had to barricade ourselves in somewhere, it was the room with the Wii.

Plan #2 was to Locate Alvin. Kitty had long since run off, probably convinced her two Mommies were having a mental breakdown, so she was of no use to us at this time. So, CB and I took to being stealthy. There's just one problem: Colette was convinced that we had not just a chipmunk on our hands, but a super-ninja chipmunk that was going to jump from the walls onto our heads ala bad comedy movies. If you're around CB long enough, she's terribly convincing, and before long we were walking around the house like the walls were moving in on us.

Plan #3 was to Knock Alvin Unconscious. We had segregated his possible location to our cubbard closet. Now - it's a big closet, but CB pointed out that Alvin probably had a taste for trail mix, and alas, this was his happy home. So, we begin to attempt to peg Alvin with a votive candles. I should insert here that the votive candles were only used after CB exhausted our supply of large, pillar candles, and I extracted the candelabra from her hands - mid throw. This was all being done while CB stood on the dining room table, and I on the floor. When Peg Alvin with Votives didn't work, we moved onto to ...

Plan #4: Shovel and Trash Picker. Again, we worked this plan out as we went along. Apparently, I was going to catch Alvin by the tail (do chipmunks even have tails?) with one of those long-handled trash pickers, while CB bopped him on the head with a shovel. I only wish you could have seen us - me, yielding my trash picker like a sword in battle, and Colette, yielding her shovel like she was a cave man clubbing her dinner. At this point, and near hysteria/exhaustion, CB got a wind of braveness and decided to take the shovel and bash all of the contents of our closet. I can only liken this to Fatal Attraction For Rodents. This, I must say, was incredibly amusing, and I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. But alas, she had to be stopped when the shovel got too close to the wine bottles.

Plan #5: Hope Alvin Leaves on His Own. Knowing that our attempts thus far were going to be futile, we decided to retreat for bed and hope that Alvin would find his own way out, or be eaten by one very lazy Kitty. Of course, since we have a stealthy ninja chipmunk, we had to "guard" each other's trips to the bathroom, lest Alvin come running in and want to flush the toilets for us. Then, we closed our bedroom doors and lined the underneaths with clothing, etc so that Alvin wouldn't make us any nighttime visit. Oh - and our bedtime weapons of choice: Me, with my Trash Picker Sword, and Colette with her Shabby Chic Shield.

Alas, if anyone has any advice on how to battle a ninja chipmunk, CB and I are all ears! Also, should your new year's resolutions involve any cardio vascular activity, please come to our house for the Chipmunk Chase! We'll even let you pick your own weapon.

Diva-Time!

Here's a birthday poem to the one, the only, Miss Diva Rockin!

DIVA-TIME

There once was a lass named Kera
Who loves lip gloss and ponies and shoes
She morphed into a Broad named Diva
And often Tweet'd from the loo!

I met her in a pancake place
She served her swill with flair
I knew for sure, when I first laid eyes
My new BFF was there!

She liked her fun and adventure time
Diva really played the part
As I got to know her more and more - I felt
The Groove was in her Heart!

Big Daddy, Sade, Podcasts and Breaks
The memories are out of sight
I f only we can get Miss S to sing
For an Afternoon Delight!

As you turn a year older, the remember-whens
Bring smiles to our face
I look forward to making so many more
With my favorite Be-Atch in the Human Race!

Happy Birthday, Kera!
*gigantic hugs*