senior's discount

Four days into my new "senior librarian" (read: manager of small branch) position and I'm still a little lost. Here are a few examples:

1) It's my second day and I'm sitting in my office ordering supplies for my (new-to-me) office. #3 knocks politely and asks if it's okay with me if she takes dinner fifteen minutes early and comes back fifteen minutes early. uhh, yes? Like what do I care? Instead I say: "Sure, just write it in the schedule we everyone knows where you are… or aren't :)"

2) Locking up after my first night shift, a tardy patron has kept us to 2106. I'm getting my coat on, when #1 comes in and says in hushed tones "is it okay if we all leave?" uhh, yes, definitely. It's past 9pm; you are no longer paid to be here. Go. "Absolutely; I'm right behind you" to which #1 replies that she'll wait for me but will let the pages and part-timers go.

3) Various circulation functions which I can't even reproduce here, because they're just that much of a blur. Add to this, I can't read their schedule at all - I mean, it's still done in pen! Have these people not heard of computers?! This will change. ASAP.

4) I set up "getting to know you" meeting with each staff member for next week. Thus far, I've been asked if this is an "appraisal", whether I'll be using the "interview" (which it most certainly is not) to determine tasks and duties, will this be a paid meeting, will HR be in attendance… people! Stop being so scared! I just want to know who the heck you are, what the heck you do and how the heck I'm going to help you do it. Yeesh.

At least I have an office that actually gets radio reception and I'm expected to basically hang out in it. Every time I even broach the circ desk with an offer to help clear holds or check in the four tranship boxes, I'm shooed away. I've yet to figure out if I should be insulted or not. So, the customers are happy I'm here, the staff hasn't mutinied and I still get an hour for lunch. So far, so good.

a week in NYC

So, umm, I've been away. I was so busy getting ready for the trip to New York (amidst other insanities) that I didn't even have time to be excited in blog form. Sorry poppets. I'm a bad blogtress.

Yeah, I went to NYC (6 days, 5 nights) with AnCe, Nish and Kaylee. Here's the rundown: four shows (Il Barbiere di Sivilgia, Lion King, Giovanni Allevi, Chicago), three museums (Frick, AMNH, the Met, Guggenheim), $400 in shopping, several fabulous meals with some fabulous people (the Russian Tea Room being the spectacular cherry on top) and very little sleep. Throw in a couple visits with the family and one drunken debauchery and it seems I have done everything I've wanted to do in the Big Apple. We were right on top of the 57th/7av Subway station, so there was much subway action (in fact, I completely avoided the yellow cabs and made the most of my $27 weekly pass).

It was a whirlwind. It was fantastic. It was just what I needed.

Now Playing: Whip It!

I went to see Julie & Julia on Monday. After many weeks of successful procrastination by Jadek, he finally got his way: it was no longer playing. le SIGH. Instead, I saw the poster for Whip It, Drew Barrymore's directorial debut that was actually getting good TIFF reviews. I demanded (read: pouted until I got my way) to see this instead. I'll admit, there was no real arm-twisting. We went in.

First of all, I find it altogether disturbing that Ellen Page is a 22-year-old who can play 17 and look too young for the part. Seriously, will she ever be allowed to play anything but a teenager? Seriously.
So, the movie was pretty cute. It takes place (mostly) in (mythical?) Bodeen, Texas: where mother-daughter pageant brunches are real neighbourly with the Oink Joint, where there are short-bus expresses to the Big City Austin, where a girl named Bliss could never dream of becoming tattooed, hard-nosed, roller derby poster-child Babe Ruthless. Wait, strike that last part - that happens. And yes, you can see how this story will unfold a mile away, right down to the cliched "two big events on one day… which will she choose?" moment. But, you shouldn't watch this movie for its plot.

Acting was pretty solid, with Juliette Lewis and Kristen Wiig playing the most fun parts. Marcia Gay Harden is her usual awesome self - talk about underusing talent, though. Lots of people you recognise: Jimmy Fallon, Eve, and Zoe Bell among them. And while it does paint roller derby as a lot more princess-like than it really is, there's plenty of blood and broken noses too. This is a good, light, cotton-candy flick; perfect for girls night in or a Tuesday night. 3.5 out of 5 stars.

chicken shit

So, tomorrow I get back in the driver's seat for the first time since Quinn's demise. For those of you who know me, either via blog or in-person, I think it will come as a surprise that I'm a little nervous. Actually, a lot nervous. In all honesty, the thought just about fills me with dread. I keep thinking stupid questions: have I forgotten how to drive? will my reaction time be slower? am I going to become that person, the one that develops a tick or who can't drive over 40 kph?

Under advisement from my doctor, I actually contacted the EAP - you know, talk to a shrink about my hangups. I'm rolling my eyes even as I type this. Rationally, I know this is all pretty dumb. It's not like I was even permanently injured or something. I mean, post-traumatic stress syndrome? That's for war vets and rape victims, right? Not for car accidents! Certainly not for car accidents from which you walk away. And yet… there it is: little dagger-winged butterflies in the pit of my stomach, getting agitated every time I think about getting behind the wheel.

I hate that she ruined my long weekend, killed my car, scarred my left arm and permanently changed the way I sign my name; I hate that, on top of all this, she's shattered my self-confidence and robbed me of my independence. I hate this new weakness.

Wish me luck.

karma

I have always held close the belief that energy can be neither created nor destroyed. A corollary to that is when bad things happen to you, good things will happen too, just to balance it all out. This may be why I'm a little (shamefully) relieved when I don't win on my weekly lotto ticket; I mean, can you imagine how much bad luck you'd need to even out a thirty million dollar jackpot?

So, almost three weeks ago, when I got rammed by that drunk bitch, I had thought I was evened out at the scene, what with being able to walk away from that complete wreck with only bruises and nerve damage and no life-threatening injuries. But no. In a strange parallel, yesterday, it was made official: I am now the Senior Librarian of the Unkillable Branch. This location has been threatened with closure for the past fifteen years, but the community is too strong and they simply will not let it go. As a result, they're looking for someone to come in there and convince the City to leave them alone, once and for all. How are we going to do that? No one knows just yet, but they're hoping I'll be able to come up with something.

That's a lot of responsibility for a newbie. Generally, positions like this (senior librarians in a location with no manager on site) are reserved for the veterans. I'm thrilled people think I'm up to the task. I'm also nervous as all hell (in a good way, mostly, like the first day of school). And it didn't really help that before they officially offered me the job, they sat me down for an hour-long debriefing of all the "challenges" I would face upon arrival. "We want you, we really hope we don't scare you off" they kept saying, and they didn't… but they did scare me, if only a little.

So! Here's to new challenges! To looking at problems as opportunities! To being mistress of my domain!

Now Playing: 9

I don't really know how to review 9 ... it's ... different. But in that good, creepy, exciting way that Tim Burton has a knack for bringing out in himself and, apparently, in others.

Spoilers abound, dear readers.

Okay, the premise: post-apocalyptic world, where a war between humans and machines have resulted in every living being destroyed and the sky to be permanently blackened. If that doesn't sound familiar enough to you, the machines themselves seem to be kissing cousins of those other machines. There endeth the parallels. Instead of humans, we have rag dolls (that look hella like a certain game) fighting against the Beast, which seems bent on their destruction for no good reason I can think of. The beast is easily disposed of but not before it awakens its master, a mono-red-eyed monster which sucks the soul out of each of the dolls and just keeps coming at you, in terrific movie-monster fashion. Five of the nine dollies die, but it's okay because 9 finds a way to release them from their machine prison. The end, which confuses me even now as I type this, is vague to say the least.

I don't know what all this means. When in doubt, I will fall back on my Lit Crit / Religious Studies roots and start dissecting. 1 is a thinly veiled religious figure, complete with pontiff-esque hat, who originally leads the dolls to "sanctuary" (sidenote: the sanctuary is none other than the Notredame, complete with famous stain-glass windows and Quasimodo's bell tower). They are mercilessly pursued by the Beast, who is working to raise his master. 1 continuously berates 9's path, saying his "dangerous science" will "only lead to catastrophe". And while 9's initial action does awaken the Master/Machine, it is his actions that also bring about its destruction and the redemption of his friends. Sort of like every Grecian epic ever written. Then there's the penny over the dead 2's eyes, which is clearly an allusion to the Charon's fee for ferrying the dead over the Styx. So, clearly there's some deep imagery here. I just don't know how to connect it all together.

What's the message? Beware technology? I can hardly believe it, considering the movie itself is a result of some amazing technology, at least in terms of visual rendering. And the visuals are stunning, with each frame just dripping in detail and minutiae. Is it the dependence on machine to perform inhuman acts, thereby quashing our innate sense of compassion? Perhaps. The invention of the Gatling gun made it easy to decimate dozens of men in a way that hand-to-hand combat never could, save only for the nightmarish consequences of guilt and remorse.

In the end, I don't know. But it was still a fantastic movie. Isn't it enough that I'm even pondering these questions? 4 out of 5 stars.

a little help

Things I've learned in the last 13 days:

1) Shock is a powerful numbing agent. Also: always go to the hospital if you find yourself in an ambulance.

2) Anti-inflammatories + muscle relaxants = twelve-hour death-like sleep.

3) I do not own enough stretchy-pants.

4) The opposable thumb - you know, the digit that separates us from 99% of the other species that inhabit this planet - is truly the wonder behind our evolution. Try, if you can, to live one day without using one thumb (just one) and marvel at the inability to do the simplest of tasks. Never has a juice bottle seemed so daunting.

5) The measure of your friends is found in your times of need. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the amount of work and time people have put in for me. Thank you for taking out my garbage, putting away my dishes, making me food, taking me grocery shopping and, most importantly, keeping me company.

6) Mom can still wash my hair and then put it into braids as efficiently as she used to when I was six years old. She can still cook the best "sick" food and never forgets which pills I should take when.

7) Dad always comes through. Always.