thrice busted

i have been writing this blog for over a year now, as you probably know being my devoted followers and all. and never have i gotten into any sort of "trouble" in regards to my writing this. but this week i got myself into some sort of trouble, not once, not twice, but THRICE! that means three times.
first, the nubian god wrote me an e-mail yelling at me for my poor judgment in regards to men. this was actually unfair (although not entirely untrue) because he was mad at me for getting sexually harassed by the movers. do not blame the victim, nubian god! but then he said that really he was just concerned for my well-being. so that's ok.
second, my colleague from work read something i wrote in regards to him (which i felt was more making fun of me than making fun of him). but luckily he was pretty cool about it. in fact i think it was cool of him to call me out on it. so that was ok.
then third, i had a stolman upset and i needed the help of the polyamorist again. but when i txted him he told me that my stolman privileges had been rescinded. turns out he read the "stolman update." (who knew my blog was so popular?) rightfully so, he was not pleased. and really, i actually felt bad about it. i had so many issues that i grappled with after our breakup and it just felt good to have some sort of closure on those issues and know that i was over it and in a much better place. really that was what i was trying to express. i had no malicious intent, but re-reading the post there is definitely a mean-spirited undertone. i try not to be a malicious person. and it had been nice to chat with him and be on friendly terms. so i am debating about whether or not i should delete that post. i've never self-censored before.
anyway, in conclusion ... this week this blog has kind of bitten me in the ass. and i think i will be more careful in the future. but not too much more careful because that wouldn't be fun.

take your nubian god to work day

this morning the prodigal nubian came to work with me. it was so nice to show off the good work i do here. then we went to lunch at the vegetarian spiritualist luncheonette. at first he was leary but he totally warmed up to it. and now, alas, he has returned from whence he came. le sigh. and now i am left here with the rest of my work day. grrrr.
but so far i have organized the non-fiction and led a storytime (two attendees! woohoo!) maybe i will work on my martin luther king day display.

i am not a pirate

my mom once coined the phrase "one of my sports injuries" which is an ironic term referring to an injury that you sustain doing an activity that is the least athletic or least active thing possible . here are some examples of "sports injuries": getting a repetitive stress injury in your thumb from playing piano, hurting your knee from walking on sand, straining your neck from talking on the phone without having a job that warrants excessive phone use. so now, here i am, home laid up with the sport injury to end all sports injuries. here's how it happened:
the nubian god was waiting for me to come to bed so we could get some shut-eye (the nubian god is back!) and i was in the bathroom doing my evening bathroom routine. and as i am taking out my left contact i feel that it is completely stuck to my eye. what do i do? i tug on it really hard and yank it off, not realizing i am also taking off a layer of my cornea. then i return to the nubian god and tell him something to the effect of "ow, my eye hurts" and with one looks he tells me i have scratched my cornea.
so when i went to the doctor, i felt a little stupid. who scratches their own eyeball? but you have no idea how much this hurt. it hurt SO bad. i could barely keep my eyes open. so painful.
when i told the doctor the story he seemed a bit suspicious. but then once he put that yellow dye in there (which felt AWESOME! it was the only time ever that someone enjoyed that yellow dye. i even asked if i could take some home with me. the doctor promptly said no) anyway he takes one look at me and is in shock and says "my god! you have really damaged your eye!"
i felt really good about this because then i knew i wasn't just being a baby.
"yeah," i said, "it really hurts."
"i'm surprised you weren't screaming when you did this!"
"i'm pretty tough."
"you must be."
i am.
now this whole time i am fearing two things:
1. i will have to wear only glasses for an obscenely long period of time. like 5 weeks of only glasses.
2. he will make me wear an eyepatch. and although i saw a very handsome pirate the other day in the supermarket (absolutely true story. hey, its brooklyn) i do NOT want to wear an eyepatch.
so he begins to lay his diagnosis down ... he says my cornea is seriously scratched and it is at risk of infection. he mentions pus and i get all grossed out. i must take prescription antiobiotic eye drops.
check. will do. no problem.
then, and he warns me that this will sound strange ...
(please don't say eye patch, please don't say eye patch)
he tells me that i must wear ONLY contact lenses.
what?!
but wait, there's more! i can only wear contact lenses, AND i must wear my left lens on my injured eye like a bandaid for 5 days straight. no taking it out. my cornea cells will regrow and be shielded by the contact lens. (that's right. i lost so much cornea that my cornea cells need to regrow)
this is a contact lens lover's dream! never before has a doctor said to me, "whatever you do don't take out your contact lenses." this is awesome.
i was also instructed to use lots and lots of refresh eyedrops. he is also concerned about the dryness of my right eye but we will deal with that later.
anyway, so now i am home with my contact lenses back in and giving myself eyedrops on the hour. i feel better but it still hurts. but at least i do not look like a pirate.

now i would like to recap my illnesses of the last month or so:
veteran's day weekend: awful cold that left me on couch for several days
first week of december: bahaman flu that ended with me in the ER
last week of december: sore throat
last days of december: decimated cornea

only me.

a reply to an unsent message AND i scratch my own cornea

here i am at work on a saturday ... half blind because last night i took my contact lens out with such fervor that i scratched my own eye. the pain is ridiculous. i have made an appointment with a shady polish doctor. which means ... i can leave early and get said doctor to write me a note! i am going to milk this doctor's note thing for all it's worth.
anyway, you might be wondering to yourself, "miss dewey decimal mistress, why were you taking your contacts out with such fervor?"
well, my beloved blog readers ... it was because the long lost nubian was waiting for me. and you never keep a nubian god waiting.

a message i will never send

i deleted your number from my phone so that i could never contact you in a moment of weakness. but i've been thinking about you and i just wanted to say hi ... so hi.

-m

miss me?

yeah, i know you did ...
so today is my first day back after my vacation. i am still slightly queasy from the illness that befell me on the last night of my trip and sent me to the emergency room. and of course being in an emergency room filled with attractive young bahaman doctors reminded me of the long lost nubian. oh long lost nubian. le sigh.
anyway, when i arrived back at library-in-the-hood there was a nice card made out of construction paper welcoming me back. it reads as follows:
you have been gone
gone for so long
we missed you so much
our hearts have been broken
we are glad you are back
and are here to stay
if you leave us again you have to tell us
because when you come back we will all have grins
isn't that cute? even though these kids are insane you gotta love 'em.

there's no crying in library service

things have finally caught up with me ... you can't go around making kids cry and think that one day you won't get yours.

today:

woke up feeling yucky due to my antibiotics

dared to wear a top TUCKED IN to my skirt (something i typically think is impossible for me)

walked into the library feeling good

was told that i went "around the chain of command" by asking Central (aka big brother) how one goes about getting a social worker at the library

then folks, i hate to say it, i starting crying hysterically

i think i blabbed something about my boyfriend breaking up with me (was the nubian even my boyfriend? i guess for lack of a better term ...) and i blabbed about being sick and about always getting in trouble and about being punished for being sick ...

then i seriously could not stop crying and had to go to the bathroom for like twenty minutes.

and this is all in front of the new assistant branch manager who i can only assume now thinks i am insane.

and really, all i wanted to do was say "i'm sorry ... i need to go home." BUT I CAN'T GO HOME BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE UNDOCUMENTED SICK TIME!

thankfully i was able to go to lunch early and i had highly educated vegetarian spiritualists feed me ziti and chat with me about audiobooks.

good librarians never get sick

i was told by my new supervisor that when i have my 6 month evaluation i will be judged on two things:
1. punctuality
2. sick time used
i have to say ... i am an obsessively punctual person. i often try to be late because i hate waiting around for other people and even when i try to be late i am still on time. but last month i was late twice. the first time was because i had an alarm clock (or should i say cell phone) malfunction and i woke up late and was 20 minutes late to work. the other was due to traffic and i was about 30 minutes late. all other days i come in on time or slightly early. so when i was told that these two times that i was late, two times since i was hired in June, these two times would negatively effect my evaluation, i was pretty pissed.
now, i often complain about library-in-the-hood, but one thing that was really awesome was that my branch manager decided to be "creative" with my time sheet and did some math that is beyond my understanding and changed my timesheet so that there were no unexcused latenesses. so that was cool.
but then there is problem two. i believe i have mentioned my inability to breathe through my nose. sometimes i meet people that say things like, "oh, i never get sick," and when they say this is truly don't understand how this is possible.
"never?"
"well, maybe once a year."
"once a year?!"
"yeah, its a drag."
"what?!"
i get ill, like seriously ill, every two months. this is actually a bit of an improvement from getting sick every other month, which is what i used to do before i started taking singulair. so i pretty much use all sick time which is allotted to me. and i see nothing wrong with that. you gave me the sick time. thank you. i shall use it. all of it.
so when my supervisor said that "central" aka big brother will be watching how often i use my sick time and when i take it, (ie do i take sick time right after vacations? do i take sick time right after a three day weekend?) i knew i was screwed. i am totally the person who gets sick right after a vacation or who gets sick and wastes an entire holiday weekend laying in bed sneezing.
what is my point? my point is that i will be judged not on my performance as a librarian, but on my ability to operate an alarm clock and the quality of my immune system (i've been taking daily vitamins! does nothing!). no fair. and really, isn't it obvious who is actually sick and who is just calling in sick because they don't feel like coming to work? i know i took a mental health day last month, but i needed it. and i always feel SO guilty about not coming to work. i could contract leprosy and i would still argue with myself about whether or not i was being a "baby" by calling in sick. grrr.
again, what is my point? okay here it is ...
friday i used vacation time because i thought i was going to visit He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named ...but as you all know i did not visit said person. instead i was home moping ... but not only moping ... i was also coming down with an awful cold. so friday night, all day saturday, all day sunday i was home sick. actually, i wasn't home, i went to my mom's so i could watch cable tv and have her feed me matzoh ball soup. today i am STILL SICK. going to the doctor later. hopefully i will be better tomorrow and i will go to library-in-the-hood. but if i am still sick they will not see this as poor-girl-who-didn't-get-to-visit-her-man-and-instead-got-ill-and-wasted-a-holiday-weekend-being-sick ... they will see it as lazy-librarian-extended-her-three-day-weekend-and-now-has-the-nerve-to-call-in-sick.
i am so misunderstood.

this is the part where ...

this is the part where i go it alone.
this is the part where i sit in cafes
while my friend waits tables
and i drink hot toddys
for my perpetual sore throat.
i look at a stranger's pictures of a recent trip to india
and i remember my own adventures
and the woman i once was ...
who i will be again.
this is the part where i go to the gym
and hit punching bags
until i re-sprain my wrists.
this is the part where i take the nubian's red velvet cupcakes
(for he is no longer a god)
and i disperse them to the people i love
who have always stuck by me.

the battle for the nubian god has been lost

he said i didn't do right by him
even though i spent the better part of the evening making him red velvet cupcakes

do not go gentle into that good night OR do not give up your nubian god without a fight

sometimes my roommate is very smart. for instance ... last night i had a friend over consoling me about the loss of the nubian god. this was very nice as i was very very upset. however, he was of the opinion that i should just cut my losses and move on. then, once he left my roommate chimed in and said something like this (i am paraphrasing):

you and the nubian god have fought before and sometimes it takes him a while to come around, but you guys always made up. you might be able to go out there and work things out. or maybe you'll go out there and you won't be able to work things out. but if you don't go out there you'll always wonder if you might have been able to make it work. but you guys have something and it worth putting in some hard work for. and c'mon ... he's a nubian god for christ's sake.

SO, thank you smart roommate! i will fight for my nubian god! i will go out there (if he'll have me) and i will do whatever it takes to win him back!

here is an inspirational poem for you all:

Do Not Got Gentle Into that Good Night

By Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

question: what does that poem mean to you?

answer: i don't take shit from no one.

puppets and small children make me feel better ... but only for a short period of time

today i did a story time, which i was dreading because i felt it would be awful to face a group of 5 year-olds knowing that i am now nubian-godless. but actually it was quite fun.
here's what i did:
i opened up with introducing the children to my new friend Mouse, who is not a real mouse, but a puppet of a mouse. i explained to them that Mouse is very shy and that they need to say "good morning to him." which they then did. then Mouse helped me go through the rules of story time. he wiggled his arms to show the kids that they should wiggle their arms now while they had a chance (there is NO wiggling during storytime). then he strethed his ears and the kids stretched their ears so that their ears were ready for listening. then Mouse put his hand in front of his mouth to signal that it was time to be quiet. what a good mouse he is.
then i read the following books:
mouse paint: starring some of mouse's friends who fall into jars of paint and then mix up the colors to make new colors. the kids enjoyed guessing what the colors the mixed up paint would make.
then we read brown bear brown bear what do you see, and the kids guess which animals brown bear would see. usually they got them wrong, but i was very supportive of them and didn't say anything like "hey stupid kids don't you know the brown bear sees a red bird?" i was on my best behavior.
then we took a little break for stretching and played "open, shut them." a little girl was nice enough to tell me that i was actually playing the game wrong and she explained the correct procedure for open shut them, so then we played a modified version.
then we read: in the tall tall grass, which they also enjoyed but there was no audience participation
finally we read go away big green monster, which was a real hit. i read it twice. once using the book, and the second time using this puppet that has removeable pieces so the kids instructed me on which pieces to place on the monster and which pieces to take away. it was really cool.
then we made monster hats, shown above. and as the kids were leaving proudly sporting the monster hats that they had made ... i felt good. i felt good about being a librarian and helping kids in the hood and for a brief moment i forgot about the nubian god.
but that brief moment is over.

a mathematical conundrum

if a neurotic jewish librarian was going on a flight to ohio to visit a nubian god, she would need 2 xanax for the roud trip flight (1 for each way). however, if she suddenly had zero nubian gods, how many xanax would she need to get through her day at library-in-the-hood?


hypothetical answer: she would need 1/2 a xanax for the first day (which she luckily found tucked away in the bowels of her medicine cabinet), thinking that a whole xanax might make her drowsy. however, on day two she would take a whole xanax, realizing that a half just doesn't do the job.

thank you mental health day

back and work and feeling much better ... getting this place whipped into shape for tomorrow. working on my calendar of october programs. i've decided we're going to make collages! i've collected a box-full of discarded magazines for this. i'm so excited!
yet again i have forgotten to bring my camera to take pictures of my organized closet (which is getting less and less organized every day as i find more things that need to be put away). but i swear i will take pictures tomorrow.
spoke to the nubian god last night. i do believe he is trying. maybe i don't need to move to texas after all.
so in conclusion ... things are better. i'm happier fitter more productive (although yesterday i was highly productive. i sold clothes at buffalo exchange and got a $65 credit! then spent it all on dresses!)
fyi: our chairs are still too small

mental health day

i would like to start off by saying that it takes a lot for me to not come into work. i am typically wrought with guilt, assuming that no one will be able to go on without me. how can any library function sans me? but i had the most depressing night last night and i just could not go to work today. so here i am sitting at starbucks paying god knows how much to use their wireless network because, as always, my internet problems at home continue to go unsolved. it is an enigma wrapped in a riddle, that is.
so last night i was hanging out with some friends who i think very highly of. truly, i love these friends. it pains me slightly that i have to write about this situation, but i know they'll understand. it's not you, it's me! the problem is me!
so there we are having a fine old time and Guy A is telling Guy B how many girls he has that are just dying to go out with Guy B. Then Guy B says, "oh no! not true! its you, you Guy A who all the girls want to go out with!" and back and forth, both guys being too modest to admit what fantastic catches they are, and both generously offering a cornucopia of single women that the other would adore.
"do you guys know any single men?" i ask, getting a little annoyed.
"men?!" they say, "pshaw! we don't know any men." (okay, i admit neither of them used the word 'pshaw' but you get my drift)
innocent bystander: "if you're looking for men you should really move to another city. new york is terrible."
so there you have it. new york is a single man's paradise, but if i want to find a reasonable boyfriend i have to relocate. texas was suggested. i would be "exotic" there. i have to move to @%&#ing texas?! do they even have libraries there?
but i digress, three scotches later i found myself walking home from the L train through the lonely streets of brooklyn. feeling down i decide to call the nubian god. now, things have been rocky with the nubian god since his departure to cleveland. just the other night we were speaking on the phone and he convinced me that he would call more often and that i am in fact still important to him. but of course the nubian god did not answer the phone, so i left a drunken message on his voicemail. note to people who know me: please do not let me operate phones when i am intoxicated. if i was trying to drive you would take my car keys ... why do you trust me with my cell phone? they are equally dangerous.
so i walked home quietly crying to myself and then spent the remainder of the evening eating mixed mediterranean olives and taking pictures of my blotchy eyes.
and that, dear blog readers, is why i have spent the better part of this morning knitting and watching the price is right. because by gum i deserve it.

beware of places with "far" in the name

it took me one hour and forty-five minutes to get home from stupid far rockaway. did i tell you? well, now you know. and it was SO cold i had to stop and buy a cappucino and heart-shaped cookies, which i gave to my man before he went to cleveland, which is also very stupid and far. but this leads me to my question ... which is the quicker trip: going to cleveland or going to far rockaway? only time will tell.

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?

tra la la la la la la la la

oops! not allowed to say anything. promised not to write about it. la la la la la.