my vow of celibacy

to quote a colleague of mine, "somebody has been watching too much Grey's Anatomy." and that somebody is not me because i don't even have tv.
it has been 24 hours since i swore off dating. so far, so good. however, if any of you have basic carpentry skills i need someone who can re-hang my coat rack. it is a coat explosion over here. i will pay you in beer.
oh heart-shaped cookie, why have you forsaken me?

why i hate my new office: part 1

because someone stole all my pens. not just a few pens over a long period of time. someone stole all my pens. i had about 10 pens here on friday. i come in this morning and i have zero pens. just a highlighter, a dry erase marker (i do not even have a dry erase board) and two dull pencils. vandals. vandals stole the handles and then they stole all my god damned pens.

friday ...

1. a drunk man asked me why i look like all the girls in berlin
2. a little old lady got mad at me because i refused to help her adjust her scarf (am i a bitch?)
3. an entitled upper east side snob yelled "I KNOW WHO'S RESPONSIBLE! WE ALL HAVE RESPONSIBILITIES!" when i told her that she is responsible for remembering to return her videos ... not us.

i am a lovely little girl

he sees me as he enters the library and he begins his incoherent mumblings about how lovely i am. he approaches the desk and says, "you're a lovely little girl."

little girl. like i'm delivering him two boxes of thin mints.

"thanks," i say, with as little enthusiasm as humanly possible.

"don't thank me!" he says, clearly getting excited by our lively exchange. "i wasn't there! i had no part of it." (note to single men: this type of behavior will never get you any play) "that was your momma and daddy and GOD!"

"yeah, ok, well can i help you with something?"

his eyes brighten and i swear to you he begins to make a sound which i can only describe as yelping.

"yes, help. help. help. help," he squeaks, trying to be cute but failing miserably because he is an oily haired toothless psycho and i am an normal attractive woman.

"yeah, that's great," i say, "what do you want?"

so we go through the song and dance of him wanting a book and me finding said book but us not having it at this branch and blah blah blah he doesn't have a library card. so i send him to the circulation desk, where he spews crazy at them for a while. there is some shouting. then he decides to take a seat at the table right opposite of little old me. oh joy.

so as i try to help legitimate patrons with legitimate questions, he entertains himself with his little mentally unbalanced passtimes. he empties all the contents out of his pockets. he drops change on the table and watches it roll around, screaming "money!"

all very charming. oh, and did i mention that between rantings he throws in a "you're so lovely" or a "you really are beautiful" or a "damned you're pretty." so very charming.

after a few minutes of this i tell him that if he cannot be quiet he will have to leave. and then, my beloved readers, he tells me that he would rather flirt with me instead. lucky me.

soon after this our ever-vigilant security guard notices that something is awry, and he comes over and reiterates that the man must be quiet or leave. so this guy gets up like he's going to leave. but instead of leaving he stands directly in front of me. he's standing, looming over the desk like he has a question to ask me, but he doesn't ask me anything. he just stands there staring at me. so i try to pretend like i am doing something, and the security guard tells him that if he doesn't have a question he must sit down and be quiet.

"no," he counters. "i don't have to do anything. i just want to look at this beautiful girl here."

and this dear readers was my breaking point. "sir ... " i begin.

"oh, no need to call me sir," he says, "my name's benny."

"i don't care ... you need to sit down and be quiet or LEAVE!"

so then he tells me again that i really am beautiful. you know, in case i doubted him before.

"sir!" i interupt, "i am not above calling the police and having them escort disruptive patrons out of the library. you NEED to leave."

and then he walked off into the sunset, turning back to face me as he passed through our security gates and stuck out his tongue at me.

have i ever mentioned that i paid $35,000 to get a Masters in Library Science so that i would be qualified for this type of work?

high on the fumes of success and liquid paper

so i had to move offices yesterday, which i am not happy about. i lost air-conditioning and serenity. but now i am closer to the woman who orders the office supplies. that's right, i've got my own bottle of wite out now. it's mine! all mine! no one else is allowed to make corrections with it! and when a fellow co-worker overheard that i had my own wite out, she asked our ruthless supply orderer if she too could have her very own bottle of wite out and she totally got shot down. no wite out for that be-otch. i'm senior librarian. fear me and my liquid paper.

i'm so lonesome i could cry

woe is me ... no one came to my teen advisory group today. i bought cookies and everything. oh well, i was mentally prepared for this. my borrough specialist told me no one would show up. i think she was a motivational speaker before she became a librarian.

your subway reading guide

today on the subway people were reading the complete short stories of ernest hemmingway. and since the death of my beloved kurt vonnegut, there always seems to be at least one person reading a kv novel. i recommend cat's cradle, it's my personal favorite and i think it's very underrated. hmmm, maybe i should re-read it for the gazillionth time.

achieving my goals, one goal at a time

i would just like to tell you all that today i successfully pulled off wearing a belt over a previously non-belted dress. it looks pretty hot.

so many girlfriends, so little time

i got a call from everyone's favorite group home resident, the ever-so talented and charming EJ. EJ was telling me of his woes. he has known a lot of girls, wink wink. he has had so many girlfriends, but none of them have worked out. i can only wonder why. today, EJ was looking for social groups where men and women might go on "outings" in order to date. "like, singles events?" i ask cautiously. this pleases EJ, "yes!" he shrieks, "that's it exactly. singles events. i asked my aides to help me but they said they're too busy. i need singles events!" so i explained to him this newfangled thing we have called online dating and i told him to sign himself up on match or eharmony. (ha ha suckers with match or eharmony profiles!) he seemed a bit confused, and he asked if he could call information if he needed help. i, of course, doing my civic duty and wishing to spread the joy around, assured him that calling information would be an excellent thing for him to do if he required additional assistance. so, if you are an operator for 411 or you are an on-line dater and you happen across a man who is studying for his GED, waiting impatiently for his videos on 70s rock so he can be on jeopardy, and is currently single (that's right ladies!) ... it may just be the industrious, illustrious EJ.

libraries are boring places for boring people like me

at least, that's what a drunken homeless man told me when i yelled at him for singing in the library. "don't worry about it," he told me, "it's okay." i could hear him singing before he even entered the library. "no, it's not okay ... STOP SINGING!" then he locked himself in the bathroom and began belting out what i can only assume will one day be his off-key masterpiece. then i pounded on the door and yelled such phrases as "you need to leave this building NOW!" .... typical saturday stuff, you know the rest i'm sure.

a man of many hats

to recap: a man claiming to be a bank robbing priest, returning from his completed sentence at Sing Sing asked me to help him check his e-mail. then he brings flowers for some other flousy librarian. TWICE. then i find out that he's a regular and has most likely not been incarcerated. today he tells me that a local art gallery will be displaying his work and he has invited me to come to his art opening. he says i can bring a friend if i like. isn't that special.

maybe this ain't so bad

i am a teen librarian
today i am befriending teens
see how that works?

it's a beautiful day ...

i am going to whip this place into shape
i am going to recruit
i will hit the pavement
i will talk to strangers
i am going to master web design
i will become fluent in polish
i will begin my first novel
i am finally going to figure out how to successfully wear belts over shirts
i will start flossing semi-regularly
the world will become my proverbial oyster
i can almost breathe ... but not quite

tomorrow ... today!

"We offer adult, young adult, and children's collections of books, videos, books-on-tape, CDs, and DVDs, and a modern auditorium, available for community group meetings and library programs."
i would like to take a moment to tell you of the marvels of our modern auditorium. our auditorium has a reel-to-reel projector, one of those TVs on a tall stand, and a VCR. we may or may not have a podium. we don't need a DVD player, a digital projector, wifi access, comfortable seating, or a carpet free from large mysterious stains. nah, not in our modern auditorium. i tell you, stepping into our modern auditorium....it's kind of like stepping into the future. assuming, of course, that the future will be taking place in 1983.

no more book cart drill team dreams of grandeur for me

for those of you who do not know what a book cart drill team is, please see my previous book cart drill team post (with video!). so a bunch of my fellow librarians from various branches have been organizing a book cart drill team for the upcoming library conference in washington dc. this is one of the only fun things i have to look forward to, job-wise anyway. and we just found out today that not only will the big bad library machine not pay for us to attend the conference, not give us any aid at all (not really a shocker), they are FORBIDDING us from having a drill team. that's right. because having a bunch of librarians do something fun that builds team spirit and boosts morale would be just terrible for the bureaucracy. i have made a listing of mathematical calculations which i think will clear up the goals and mission statements here at hell's library:

people enjoying what they do = bad

stealing my soul = good

people having high morale and pride in their work = bad

crushing my spirit and turning me into a mindless drone = good

toilet paper: currency of the future

so after refusing to make photocopies for a one-legged man (long story), an elderly woman approaches me. she's grinning her toothless grin, pushing her push cart. she gives me this whole song and dance about how she's getting old and she can't hear and her hair is falling out and she keeps losing crowns blah blah blah. i ask her politely, "can i help you with something library related?" then she tells me that she's here to pick up our back issues of the new york times. says she does this periodically for her "research." i look into it and her story checks out so i give her all the back issues that are 3 months old or older. she is very appreciative, and then she digs into her cart saying "and i have a gift for you as always." and she places a 12-pack of toilet paper on my desk and somehow, i muster up a 'thank you.'

random sidenote: when i was travelling around europe in 1999, i met this guy from one of those square states in the middle of the country and he was all freaked out about y2k and he said that after y2k hit and civilization fell toilet paper would be our only form of currency.

overheard in nyc

disgruntled library employee 1: i'm not being nice to anyone any more. i've had it.
disgruntled library employee 2: why what happened this time?
disgruntled library employee 1: nothing, they're just all fucking losers and scumbags and i'm not going to waste my time trying to be nice to them.

ahhhh home sweet fucked up library.

tunnel of love

every glorious morning i have to walk down this block that’s under construction. you know how it is: scaffolding overhead, those blue particleboard walls with “post no bills” spray-painted in yellow every twenty feet, random bits of the sidewalk torn up, one of those big cement churning trucks, etc etc. this maze of construction is one city-block long and of course has been going on for forever, with no end in sight. and like clockwork every morning, at 9:45 when I walk by, all the construction workers must greet me. every morning. sometimes they just check out my ass while I pass them by, shamelessly craning their heads as I walk past them, making no attempts at subtly or refinement. sometimes they comment on my ass. sometimes they notice that I am fairly well-endowed in the chest area, and remark on my “rack.” thank god they said something because had they not mentioned it I might not have known that I do in fact have great tits. seriously, it never would have occurred to me that having a small waist coupled with large breasts would be considered attractive to the opposite sex. thank you construction workers. thank you for opening up my eyes.

I'm sure that watching me walk down the street in the morning sipping my herbal tea and listening to my iPod would really be the highlight of anyone’s day, but you would think that after several months one might build up some sort of immunity to me and grow tired of ogling me and/or verbally sexually harassing me. apparently, you would be wrong in thinking this.

EJ...i need your answer in the form of a question

so the ever-talented EJ called, oh how my heart skips a beat when i hear his high-pitched nasally voice on the telephone. he tells me he is looking for THE video on 70s rock n' roll. he says this as if there is only one and it is aptly called "The Video on 1970s Rock n' Roll." so i search around, and as i'm trying to locate an appropriate film he tells me, "i need the one with the history, so i can answer questions on jeopardy. i was watching jeopardy with my aide (have i mentioned he lives in a group home?) and now i'm going to try out. you know? to be on the show? so i need to learn things. for the different categories."

the easter bunny came early this year, even to visit jews like myself

there is this woman who comes into the branch now and again; she is a notorious trouble maker, but for some reason she seems to like me. just me. she is sweet as punch to me and no one else. and other people notice this. they've said that she always has a favorite. and usually her favorite has short blonde hair. curious. very curious. now, when you speak to her you can tell that something isn't quite right. there is a craziness lurking behind her eyes waiting to come out. so she comes in today and wishes me a happy easter. i thank her and wish her the same. then she asks me if i have any plans. i say no (although my mom is coming out to brooklyn to visit and we have discussed wearing bonnets). crazy lady is dismayed by this. "no plans?" she says sadly, "nothing at all?" so i tell her that i am jewish. then she goes into this whole monologue about jews and how they never get the good candy and how her jewish friends love candy canes and now they have blue candy canes and they never had those back in her day blah blah blah. and then she leaves. but that of course is not the end of the story. she comes back fifteen minutes later and presents me with a cadbury cream egg. now i LOVE cadbury cream eggs, but as soon as she hands the shiny foiled egg to me i am VERY afraid. visions of this insane woman with a syringe injecting my cream egg with god knows what are suddenly dancing in my head. but i take it from her politely and say thanks and all that, and then throw it in the nearest garbage can as soon as she leaves. note to self: buy four-pack of cadbury cream eggs on your way home.

april = poetry

a friend of mine recently remarked that my blog was very negative and that i come off as a jaded and unhappy person. now it is true that sometimes i am jaded and unhappy, but sometimes i am a downright ball of sunshine. so, on my friend's recommendation to write about something positive i will tell you about national poetry month. i made a pretty kickass display for national poetry month in our YA section, if i do say so myself. i put out all our poetry books. i scoured the internet for good poems and printed them out on brightly colored paper. and dear blog readers, i actually saw a teen take one of the poetry books and check it out of the library! unheard of, i know. and i know you are all ripping out your hair right now, wondering what fantastic poems i displayed. so, in the spirit of poetry month i shall share one with you:


"I wanna hear a poem"
By Steve Colman

I wanna hear a poem
I wanna learn something I didn't know
I wanna say 'YES' at the end
Because I'm sick of saying 'so?'

I wanna hear a poem about who you are
and what you think
and why you slam
not a poem about my poem
because I know who I am

I wanna hear a love poem a sad poem an I hate my
dad poem
a dream poem an I'm not what I seem poem
an I need poem an I also bleed poem
an I'm alone poem an I can't find my home poem
I just wanna hear poem
I wanna hear a poem about revolution
about fists raised high
and hips twisting in a rumble
like a rumba
I wanna follow the footsteps of Che
and hear the truth about the day
the CIA killed Lumumba
And because every second matters
I wanna hear long poems and short poems
about time and its limits
because it took less than three minutes
to attack Abner Louima
to frame Assata Shakur
and to destroy Hiroshima
to kill Elanor Bumpers
and Anthony Baezto
and gun down Malcolm with bullets they bought
from the Feds

I wanna hear a poem
where ideas kiss similes so deeply
metaphors get jealous
where the subject matters so much
that adjectives start holding pro-noun rallies
at city hall
because I want to hear a poem

that attacks the status quo
that attracts the claps of the cats
with the phattest flows
that makes the crowd
pass the hat
and pack my cap
with a stack of dough
I want to hear a poem that makes this audience
Yell HOOOOO!!!!!
Because I want to guess your favourtie color
then craft rhyme schemes out of thin air
I wanna hear a poem about why the statute
of limitations for rape
is only five years
I wanna hear a poem
I wanna feel a poem
I wanna taste a poem
Give me your spot on the mic
If you wanna waste a poem
I wanna hear a poem.

brainiac phd strikes again

so i just wanted to tell you that mr. brainiac phd has e-mailed me yet again in hopes of scoring another date with yours truly. but i am standing firm and not responding. i was toying with the idea of sending him a reply like "look i had a really nice time with you, but ... oh, how can i put this? you're really just not hot enough for me. sorry." but good manners have prevailed and i am keeping my sharp-tongue under wraps.

i am more than just a series of disgruntled and/or mean-spirited anecdotes

this is a bit long, but it's an interesting look at the librarian-as-social-worker dilemna
http://www.alternet.org/story/50023/

it looks like we have a con-man in our midsts

to recap: a bankrobbing preist needs help checking his e-mail. yours truly helps him, but then he gives my co-worker flowers. love is so fickle. so i discuss this with said co-worker, i mean, come on, this is my man we're talking about. and she says that not only has he given her not one but two long stemmed roses, but he has also invited her to jamaica! i want to go to jamaica. i could use to a trip to a tropical locale. so i tell her of his bank robbing exploits and his time in prison. suddenly those roses aren't smelling so sweet, are they? that's what you get when you mess with my man. she is shocked, and says that she definitely will not be going to jamaica with him. but then another co-worker chimes in and says that this guy hasn't been in jail at all. he's been coming here for years! so the question is .... is this man from jail? from bellevue? or from the nearby methadone clinic? YOU decide.

the golden rule may not just be bullshit

so i returned to work today after my lovely four-day weekend celebrating the festival of pesach, and even though i had a two-hour long "meeting" with the higher-ups giving me "constructive" criticism, i still somehow maintained my new positive attitude. so when i sat down at the information desk i was polite to the patrons who asked me questions. and then, and this part is the shocker, they were nice back to me. whoa.

i was even nice to this little old lady that always comes in, who i will refer to as dottie, since she is losing her mind. dottie is 92. dottie used to be a school teacher. she tells me this every time she comes in. every time. then she will ask me about information which i consider to be common knowledge, but she will act as though i am not intelligent or educated enough to know what she is referring to. like this:

dottie: i am looking for information on this group ...
me: what group is that?
dottie: well, they may not be a group. they may be considered an organization.
me: okay, what organization?
dottie: well, they do alot of work for the rights of MANKIND. they have an acronym (long pause for dramatic effect). they're called the A ... C ...
me: the ACLU? the American Civil Liberties Union?
dottie: yes, the ACLU. i believe it stands for the American Civil Liberties Union.
me: yeah. i just said that.
dottie: you see, the ACLU does a lot of work for civil rights ...
me: yeah. i know who the ACLU are. you want information on them?
dottie: the ACLU also does alot for the rights of women too, and for african americans ..... (and on and on until you want to take a gun to you head.)
little does dottie know that not only do i know what the ACLU is, but i once went to one of their functions where I MET ARTHUR MILLER! i even shook his hand. i have photographic evidence. but anyway, little miss dottie came in today and i was sweet as punch to her and then in return she was nice to me and then left me alone fairly quickly. and leaving me alone quickly is one of the greatest gifts a patron can give me. so maybe being nice to people is a good thing. maybe.

who let the jews out?

who did let the jew out of the library? please enjoy this video whilst i enjoy my four day weekend....thank you passover.