Still here...

...but busy. And recovering.

I spent a week at Library Sleep-Away Camp in New England. It's crazy. It's bootcamp. It's intense. You go from 8:00 am until 10:00 pm. You sleep, if you are lucky, four hours a night. You work. Hard. You drink. You spend four days in one room with the same thirty people. And then you drink some more. You drink coffee all day to keep you going and you drink alcohol at night to de-stress and socialize. Oh, and there was crying. Basically, it's college crammed into 4.5 days. And on the last half day, when you keep thinking, "Oh my god, it's over," you realize you are leaving the people you have bonded with over the 4.5 days. There are lots of hugs. And then despite being pushed (professionally) harder than you have ever been pushed, you think, "I would totally do that again."

Surrounding that, there was lots of traveling which means observations and stories.

So, here we go:

I upgraded to first class on the way there. I decided it was worth it because I was flying the red-eye so it would be more comfortable. I would have access to the first class lounge and since I had a four-hour early morning layover in O'Hare, the lounge access would be really nice. So that along with the cost of checking my bag, it seemed worth the extra money. Until I got to the airport and found out that on United, only international first class has access to the lounge. That's not what I got from their website, but that's their rule. Their stupid, stupid rule. Suck it, United.

On first class, a "snack" is a full blown meal. Most of it I couldn't eat. So instead I drank almost an entire bottle of wine. The flight attendent told me the wine was about one step above Three Buck Chuck. and I replied, "So it's one step above what I normally drink."

In O'Hare I spent close to fifteen minutes in line at a Starbucks kiosk for coffee. The guy in front of me went off in a huff. The guy behind me was all, "Whatever, dude. I'm invested in this line. I'm getting my damn coffee." I felt the same way. And once again, the phrase "no room" when talking drip coffee carries no meaning outside of the Pacific Northwest, because there was an inch of room left at the top.

I ended up in the same bus-terminal-like gate area I was when I spent ten hours in O'Hare a few years ago. It was still crowded and gross. Then my gate was moved. Thankfully.

I found a lovely vegan cupcake during Library Sleep-Away Camp when several of us wandered off during a break to get coffee that was stronger than warm colored water. The people hosting this thing had no clue how much coffee librarians drink. The first morning we emptied every vat they had in less than 20 minutes. There was almost a librarian riot. The next morning they had the normal amount plus two sets of backups. But the cupcake? It was the envy of all, even though it was vegan.

At Library Sleep-Away Camp, they feed you all day. Breakfast, snack, lunch, snack, dinner. All food, all the time. But the caterers didn't seem to get that we wanted--and needed--coffee in the afternoon. Eventually, they started brewing more coffee for our afternoon snack.

Seriously, y'all, if we had mats for a mid-afternoon nap, it would be like all-day kindergarten.

At one point we were bused to a local establishment for, you guessed it, food. And liquor. They had hard cider on tap. Holy shit it was good. And I remembered why I stopped drinking it while I was in library school: Because it is liquid crack. I had hard cider (on tap) sweetened with local blueberries. *drooooool*  (And they were prepared for vegans with spinach risotto, salad and all kind of good stuff.)

After the Library-Sleep Away camp ended and I wasted time before my flight left, I had a lovely vegan reuben with this amazing apple and some-other-fruit cobbler. Seriously, it was awesome.

I flew Jet Blue on the way home. I was excited since I had never flown Jet Blue. Let me say this: Jet Blue has got it going on. TVs in the seats with live TV and seats with adequate butt and leg room. The Jet Blue terminal in JFK? Full-blown shopping experience with a CIBO Express every ten feet (CIBO carries vegan food from Chicago's Soul Gourmet). Most gates have a counter with food and a full bar. (There are also several CIBOs in O'Hare that I always seek out when I am there. On both my departure and return trip, I had a vegan Jerusalem beef sandwich, and holy shit, it was so amazingly good.)

Also, in the Jet Blue terminal I stumbled on the MUJI store. I wanted to buy every single item. They said they were opening a store on the West coast. I asked, hopefully, if it would be in Seattle. Nope. San Francisco. Damn.

But my flight? It was fine as flights go, but I was sitting next to five young men who were either current Georgetown business students or former Georgetown business students. There was a sixth, but she was in a different row. She asked if I would trade my window seat for her middle seat so she could sit with her friends. I said no. Thank god for live TV and noise-canceling headphones so I could ignore them for 6.5 hours.

After I got home I slept for two days. I'm not joking. I got up the next day, bailed on a wedding reception because after buying groceries and doing laundry, every time I stood up, my entire world began to spin. I can't remember the last time I was that physically exhausted. So, yes, I slept. I spent last week at work trying to clean up some damage from the week I was gone. Hopefully, all is good.

And this weekend? More sleeping.

Tattle Tape

While reading Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me, I noticed a piece of paper stuck between two pages. I wiggled it out and I realized it was Tattle Tape.

I got weirdly excited about this.... like I had found a prize or something. And then I realized I was a big, huge library nerd.

I'm okay with that.

The Yankee Librarian Goes South. Again.

So I went back south. I spent several days in New Orleans for ALA.

I was a little worried about going down south at the end of June. Anyone who knows me knows I don't like heat. Or humidity. And both of them together make me unhappy. I was in New Orleans for ALA in 2006 and it was humid but not nearly as hot as it could've been. So... during a normal summer when the south was seeing crazy high temperatures, I was a little worried. I was worried for me and for Frenchie, who would have to listen to me complain.

Honestly, I have no clue what the temperature was; I never checked. Why bother? It was crazy humid. I took enough clothes to be able to change outfits at least twice since I knew I would spend a significant amount of time sweating through at least one outfit a day. And I did. But you know, it never seemed that bad until you were almost to your destination. And then it became the hottest, muggiest weather ever. But it wasn't nearly as bad as I feared. I still think DC in 2010 was hotter.

But you know what surprised me? How quickly I settled back into old patterns. Like, how normal it felt to be called ma'am (and to call someone ma'am). Or being called Miss Yankee Librarian. But I have to admit, being called "baby" was new to me (as in, "Thank ya, baby"). I'd become accustomed to being called sweetie and honey (by women) in Mississippi, but I don't ever remember being called baby (by a woman).

The other thing that threw me: One night I was lying in bed in the hotel room, thinking about what I needed to do when I got home. I was running through a list of things and in my head I said, "Okay, so when I get back to Ye Olde University Town, I'll do this and that.... Oh shit, I don't live here anymore." It was strange, very strange. I never thought of Ye Olde University Town as home, but for a split second I was disappointed. I was telling BFF this after I got home, and she said this made sense because I had lived there a long time. And she's right. I was there 4.5 years. Outside of college, it's the longest I lived in one place since I was 18.

Some highlights:

• Ruby met me at the airport, just as I arrived she sent me a text message telling me where she was parked and that the car was ice-cold. She knows me so well. 
• Frenchie made me a towel embroidered with "I'm the fucking librarian, Motherfucker." She knows me so well. 
• Frenchie, Just Jess, and I went out for beer, gumbo (and other stuff), and then Just Jess and I retired to the weird bar next to the hotel for some extra-strong drinks and a water glass filled with whiskey. She knows me so well. 
• Our hotel seemed to have issues with towels and soap. We either had none or too many. As I said to Frenchie, "It's feast or famine, y'all."
• Dan Savage was the keynote speaker at ALA. He walked within two feet of me and looked right at me. I almost shoved the librarian I was talking to out of my way so I could grab Savage by the arm, proclaim my love for him (despite his gayness) and tell him how much I love Savage Love, his book The Commitment, and the It Gets Better Project. But I didn't. But it was still a fangirl moment. 
• By the end of day one I had a huge blister on the ball of my foot. Gross. And ow.
• I had a blister because the Convention Center is 1.4 miles long (according to Stephen Abrams), and I had to walk the length of it at least three times in four hours.
• I wore my Pixies tshirt. Twice. (By Monday was running out of non-sweaty clothing and I hadn't sweat through my Pixies tshirt.) Who knew that a Pixies tshirt at a library conference would cause so many comments. It's like people felt they had to prove their coolness by pointing at my tshirt and saying, "Pixies....."
• When getting ready to leave for the Convention Center while wearing my Pixies tshirts, long shorts, and sneakers, I said, "I look like a skater." And Fenchie said, "If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck...." I miss her. 
• The Go Cup. And walking into a minimart, buying a beer and having the cashier ask, "Do you want this open now?" Yes, please. Gotta love New Orleans. 
• People in New Orleans didn't understand it when I asked if I would have to "brown bag it." Its a common phrase used in Mississippi. It meant the place didn't have a liquor license but you could bring your own as long as you kept it in a brown bag.
• I drank a lot. 

If I would've thought ahead, I would've taken some extra time off and driven back up to Ye Olde University Town with Frenchie and then flown home from Memphis, but I didn't.

In the end, though, I had a blast. It was a good conference. It was great to see both old friends and library friends. I ate some amazing food (more on that later). When I got back I was telling a friend about it, and I said, "I feel like I've been gone for two weeks." He said that was a signal that it was a good trip.

Indeed it was.

I'll have a report on what and where I ate shortly.

What's making my happy this week

Speaking of snarky...

One thing that made me happy this week: A librarian fight on a listserv.

In a nutshell: It started with one librarian getting all self-righteous by saying she wasn't willing to compromise her privacy to use the popular social network of the hour just to prove she was cool. Then another librarian got all na-na boo-boo and called everyone a nervous-nellie (how clever of him), and then acted like he was better than others because he wasn't willing to be scared away by privacy concerns. Obviously, his willingness to use various forms of social networks made him cutting edge. This was met with some level-headedness with people saying they liked various social networks, but there was something to be said about privacy and other issues when using popular social networks in class. And this was no reason to call everyone a nervous nellie. The self-implied cool dude brushed them all off by making some dumb comment without addressing any of their points by being all "I don't need this" about everyone's comment. It was awesome. I was gleeful when describing it to coworkers because it was full of so much ridiculousness and librarian bravado. And after six hours of meetings and a mini-breakdown over what I needed to get down last week, I needed that.

This is what I love about listservs: You get to watch other people's drama without getting caught up in it.

Sitting at a desk is totally easy

...You'll be unjamming printers until your hands bleed.

Mildly Attractive Guybrarians

New Calendar: Mildly Attractive Guys of SLIS, from USC.

Branding

Okay, so a more serious post.

I had faculty senate tonight and part of it was a presentation on a current initiative to create a brand for my university. It all made sense to me. I assumed everyone knew that colleges and universities have to both brand and market themselves to future students, alumni, legislatures, the community they are a part of, etc., etc., etc.

But I guess not.

I'm not going to say that everyone in the room was against the idea, but many were. "How can you brand what we do?" "Our departments do different things." "Our students aren't consumers." "We create scholars, how can you brand that?"

Basically, the sense was that they were above the ugly business of advertising.

I don't say a whole lot at senate. I'm new, and I am still trying to figure the place out. I hardly said anything the first year I was on senate at Ye Olde University for the same reason. The second year I never shut up.

But today I spoke up.

The person who seemed the most offended about the idea of branding wanted to know of another school that had done anything like this successfully. After a few others agreed with her outrage, I spoke up. I said I understood the need for this and understood what they were trying to do. And I used Ye Olde University as an example. YOU had a big hill to climb as far a public opinion and reputation. YOU was slipping ten or so years ago. They had an uphill battle that included history, culture, stereotypes, and more. And personally, I think they did a damn good job of winning that battle. Or at least part of it. (I'll also add that it was noted my current school is one of the last institutions of higher ed to go through a process like this.)

Maybe I have had a better understanding of this because I am a librarian. As a librarian, one of the things I need to do is look at how our library is both perceived and used. Librarians have to know how their resources are being used, we have to know what our user needs are. We have to brand ourselves because we are no longer the only option for research and references regardless of whether we like it or not, we're not. If we don't market ourselves, we'll become nothing more than a warehouse for old dusty books. And some of the faculty I've met on this campus would prefer it that way. Some have yet to understand the need for computers or wireless internet access in the library.

Anyway... I was shocked at the backlash towards branding.

But it got me thinking. Is it just me? Am I not offended because I'm a business librarian? Am I not bothered because I think that everything I do as a librarian is a form of marketing for my library? Or is it because I am so inundated by marketing and advertising that I barely notice it? Or maybe it's because I am part of the Mtv Generation and we have the attention span of a gnat.

I'm curious. Opinion? Comments? Others my age, are you offended by the idea of branding a university?

Yes, I Do

Today a colleague told me that I kicked some [vendor] ass.

Yes, I did.

My Next Favorite Blog

Awful Library Books.

So very awesome for so many different reasons.

Censorship

What is censorship?

Let me put on my librarian hat for a bit.

Scenario: A grad student in a subject area approaches the subject librarian to ask why the library holds a certain journal. She says the journal in question is racist. It's an academic, peer-reviewed journal, but she says that is used to shield the racist thought behind the journal. The librarian looks into and decides the journal does have racist undertones. It's not flat-out propaganda, but it seems questionable. What do you do when the student asks why the library is spending money on a racist journal? Do you cancel it? If you do, is it censorship?

To me, it goes against everything we stand for. It goes against everything an academic institution stands for. Our job as librarians is to present information in a non-judgmental manner. It is our job to present information that covers all sides. It's not our call to say an opinion is right or wrong. I purchase all kinds of things I find personally distasteful and offensive. I purchase items I don't agree with. I have my opinions and I share them regularly (ask anyone), but when it comes to presenting resources and ideas? No.

Let's add another layer to this. If a librarian used this example--an example from another school--as a reason to discourage students from using this journal, is that wrong? Is it censorship? Is it academically dishonest? Would you, as a librarian, say anything about it? Speak up and call it censorship?

Our role as librarians and educators means exposing students to differing opinions and ideas--even if they are offensive. It's up to the individual to decide what is right and wrong, not ours. But is telling someone not to use a source censorship? Or is it some outdated sense of protectionism? The idea that the "common man" is too stupid to decide what is right and wrong; therefore, the smart people, the academics on the hill, need to shield them from this information.

Thing is, while I think the first instance, the canceling of a journal because a librarian disagrees with it, is so very wrong and is censorship, plain and simple. The second idea, discouraging use of a source because you find it wrong, is downright offensive. It offends me as a person and as a librarian. But more than that, it is an offense to all of our users because it assumes they can't tell right from wrong.

Anyone else have an opinions on this?

I'm a Terrible Librarian

Why? Because ACRL was 90 miles away and I didn't go. I've never been and have wanted to go. I've been told it is a really good conference. It's miniscule compared to ALA. It's all academic. And I had many friends flying into the city--it would've been a chance to see people I haven't seen in five+ years. Why didn't I go? Because I had an appointment to get my hair cut and colored. Does that make me vain and shallow?

Or both?

But, see, this is why: I had an appointment for next weekend, and then I realized that was the weekend an old friend of mine was coming to visit. And then we decided to go back to our original plans and meet in Portland. And my hair stylist was going to be gone the weekend after that. So... add that all up: if I had gone to ACRL I would had to've waited three more weeks to get my hair done. Anyone on a hair color schedule (every seven weeks) can understand how important this is.

So, am I shallow and vain? Or do I have my priorities straight? I am going with priorities. Because that makes me feel better.

By the way, my hair looks great.

Call Me Mentor

This afternoon an undergrad came to see me about becoming a librarian. It was one of those random things how she found me, but she did. She has a list of questions ranging from, "What is your day like?" to "What kinds of librarians are there?"

I could barely answer some of them. I showed her what I was working on: creating research guides for undergraduate classes and why I was making them. What kind of librarians are there? Well, if you've ever heard me talk about or ask questions about what happens in tech services, you would know that I really don't know what happens outside of the reference department. I know it is all important and necessary, but I barely understand it. Which is why we are all lucky I am not in tech services.

She wanted to know the difference between a public library and an academic library. Having only worked in an academic setting, I had a limited view. I told her why I wanted to work in an academic setting. I explained what I saw as the biggest draw to being in a public library--the strong sense of community service. She asked me what my research areas were and why. User behavior, mostly. I like observing people and what they do. They fascinate me.

I explained the difference between some library schools--mainly the L versus the I in LIS. If she wants to be a public librarian, look at a program with a more traditional library setting. Some schools will require a thesis and comps, some won't. I told her it was a professional degree, so look for programs that emphasized work, practicum, etc., over research. The theory is important and needed for a base, but what she will find most helpful is what she learns on the job.

If she visits a school, ask if there is help finding a student job or assistanship. Ask if the library school works closely with the library system. That may hint at the amount of job possibilities available on campus.

Turns out she is looking at UW-Madison. I talked up Madison and told her it was wonderful and explained the program to her. Get some work experience in a library--either now or when she was in library school. I told her if she went to school straight from her undergrad she would probably be one of the youngest people there. If she decided to go to UW to move to Madison, get a studio apartment and a job and have absolutely nothing to so with the university for one whole year. Out-of-state tuition is crazy expensive. I had several friends who did this so they could get in-state tuition.

She is also looking at a school closer (not The Other UW). It's a program I have heard good things about, too. In the end, go to an ALA-accredited school. If she doesn't she may as well throw her money out the window. If the other school works better for her monetarily, geographically, go there. Get the degree and get some experience. That what is most important.

I also told her that she will hate library school. She and everyone around her will complain about it nonstop. If they don't, there is something wrong with them. I almost gave her the speech I got when I went through orientation at UW: At the end of your first year half of you will love library school and the other half of you will fucking hate it. But I decided not to crush her spirit so early.

Honestly, though, I love being a librarian. I also like making fun of librarians. But like many people I know who went to library school, when I began to figure out what I would be doing, what the purpose was, it just made sense.

Library Crazy

Someone needs to write a book about Library Crazy. Not like a novel or story about crazy librarians, but a reference book or a wiki or a blog or something that describes and names the different types and levels of crazy found amongst librarians.

Thinks about it.... When librarians all over the world get together they can just reference a Library Crazy term and we would all know the exact person. Like ALA Totebage Crazy. Or Shuffling Crazy. Or Human/Cat Crazy. Or School Librarian Crazy. Or Failed Professor Crazy. Or Lazy Crazy. Or Obsessive Crazy. Or Busybody Crazy. Because just mentioning these types, you know exactly the type of librarians I am talking about.

Who's with me?

(For the record, I see myself as a Obsessive Crazy. Because there is a little Library Crazy in all of us.)

I'm What?

Yesterday a coworker told me she would miss me because I was always so "nice and pleasant."

My response: "I'm what? You're probably the first person to ever call me nice and pleasant."

She didn't believe me.

Thing is, my friends agreed with me.

Mariachi Pink Floyd

Okay, so I am at a library association meeting. A small one. The state one. They are always interesting. I talked about last year's conference here.

Many things were the same. Holiday themed clothing, sensible shoes, etc. I went to a couple of programs. Left another one. Avoided vendors. The normal stuff.

As always, food is a challenge. Southerners have a difficult time with vegetarians. Last night I went to an Italian place that looked good. I ordered the eggplant parmesan--it's always a safe choice. I got it. I began to eat and it was good. Then half way through it I saw something. Something that looked like sausage. I saw more. I handed it to a colleague and asked her to taste it. Sausage. Honestly, I didn't know what to do. I hadn't eaten meat in seven years. Seven years. Would I get sick. I actually got a little teary-eyed--I had just broken a seven year streak. I felt kind of crappy, but I never got sick.

But, the real adventure happened tonight.

I went out to eat with librarians from another university. After considering our options we went for a place that said it was the country club and that it had steaks, seafood, and Lebanese food. As we would our way through the small southern town we found a building that seemed to be in the country club, but it looked abandoned. After actually driving onto the golf course (on the little roads for the golf arts) we realized the creepy building was the restaurant. To make a very long story short, we walked in, sat down, and then left. It was dead quiet. There was one old couple dining there. There were no vegetarian options. After some consultation, it was decided we were creeped out and that my vegetarianism would be used as the excuse to leave. So we did.

We went with our second choice--a Mexican restaurant. Looking over the map, we opted for local backroads over the interstate. But then we found out the local backroads went in the right direction but didn't reach the Mexican restaurant--and we ended up on some dirt road in some backwater trailer park.

Eventually, we found the place. Ohmygoditwasanadventure. The food was good. And cheap. But the highlight was the mariachi band. This wasn't any mariachi band. This was a mariachi band that played modern music. Some song selections: Willie Nelson, KC and the Sunshine Band (Play that Funky Music White Boy), and that Superman song that was played over and over after 9/11. Now, let me add this: these guys were excellent musicians--they were really enjoying themselves and having a good time.

Then they played the If You're Happy and You Know It (Clap your hand/stomp your feet/say hooray) song to a baby (and the baby's family). The baby was fascinated. His mouth was wide open and he couldn't stop looking at these two guys. That's pretty much how I felt.

Then they came to our table. Someone requested heavy metal. They discussed. They switched guitars. And then they played Pink Floyd's Another Brick in the Wall. Another brick in the freakin' wall. Now, when they were playing to the baby I had tears streaming down my face because I was trying not to break into hysterical laughter. Then they came right up behind me and began playing Pink Floyd. And I turned five shades of red.

To most people I probably looked embarrassed, but I wasn't. I had a myriad of thoughts running through my head. This song, featured in the drug trip on film, The Wall. This song that was at one point a counterculture anthem. My guess is that David Gilmour never intended this song to be sung by a mariachi band. But the song has become a caricature of itself and it can't really be taken seriously. But here I was... I'd seen The Wall several times (who hasn't). I saw Pink Floyd in the late-80s and I remember part of it. All these thoughts were running through my head and I just couldn't take it. And then I started thinking about my friends... and if this were to happen around my friends this would be the following scene:

Michelle would turn five shades of red. Like me.
Mary would be screeching with laughter.
Lance would say, "Y'all, I can't shake my ass to this. Do they know any Duran Duran?"
Randy would be pumping his fist in the air while requesting KISS.
Gabe would be dancing and asking if they could play Journey.

There I was, bright red, trying to control myself so that I didn't fall out of my chair in a fit of laughter. But it was the end of the song that almost killed me--they actually did the falsetto "If you don't eat your meat you can't have any pudding"--in a Mexican accent. This is when I just completely lost it. And when I wished I hadn't just met most of the people at the table, because I was making a fool out of myself.

After they left us they went to the table behind us and played Stairway to Heaven.

uh... Do I know you?

Have you ever walked down the street and noticed someone looking at you? I mean, like some guy walking towards you with a kinda-perma-grin on his face, looking right at you like you are supposed to know who he is?

That happened to me while I was in Austin. I was on 2nd Street (downtown) just kind of wandering. Wandering and thinking, "For fuck's sake, it's hot here. Where's that damn shoe store?" (I was looking for a shoe store that turned out to be closed. I was, as a friend said, "looking for girl stuff.") These thoughts were interrupted by, "Do I know that dude? Why is he smiling at me? Uhhhh..." And as we got closer to each other he said, "Are you having a nice day?" And I said, trying not to laugh, "Yeah, sure." And as he walked past me he said, "I hope you continue to have a great day." And that was it. Weird.

I was telling a friend about it (on the phone while I tried to catch some shade under an awning at a closed Mexican restaurant while he ordered a double cheeseburger and water at some drive through). Me: "Dude, he had that total perma-grin thing going on. I swear he had to be stoned." Friend: "He probably was. Did he look homeless?" Me: "No, he looked like your average 30-something going-bald-but-shaves-his-head-hipster-type guy." (Kind of like my friend.) Friend: "Oh."

I wondered if I knew the guy walking towards me from ALA. Why? Because I was wearing my "What happens in the library stays in the library" t-shirt. And a t-shirt like that may scream "I'm a librarian!" to other librarians, it is meaningless to non-librarians. It's kind of like a secret handshake that isn't very secret. And on a t-shirt.

So, I don't know. Either he was some hipster-guy librarian or he was some stoned dude wandering downtown Austin. Or both.

But you know what, it seems that whenever I go to a city some random guy talks to me. I don't know why, but it is happening more and more. Strange.

My New Toy

I bought a Tmobile Wing. It does almost everything an iPhone does, it just doesn't look as cool. But it is cute. And I don't have to be tied to AT&T, which is good since I dislike AT&T. Actually, I hate Cingular. When they became one with AT&T I bought out my contract, I disliked them so much. I've been with Tmobile for years and have very few complaints.

I had planned on upgrading to a Blackberry or smartphone of some sort in the spring, but for whatever reason, I decided I needed this now. Normally when I buy something expensive, buyer's remorse sets in the next day. I had some big buyer's remorse when I bought my car even though I really needed a new car. But with this? No. Even though I really didn't need it, I just I wanted it.

It's pretty cool. It feels good to the touch. It's smaller than I thought yet a little heavier than it looks. It works with wi-fi, and I've used my wi-fi with it, but it drains the battery pretty fast. Web browsing is only so-so--the screen is a bit small. I read reviews that web browsing was sluggish without wi-fi. It is, but I didn't think it was that much faster with the Edge network. Emailing is cool, though. The little keyboard isn't too bad, but I have discovered it can be difficult when you have fingernails--I'm not cutting my nails for a phone. That little button on the left at the top of the keyboard? That's the send button. I've sent a few emails before I meant to.

I had a RAZR before this, and I get better reception with this than I did the RAZR. I called a few people and they said I sounded fine. I didn't do the MyFaves thing because I found out there aren't five people I call enough. I hardly call anybody, really. Email and texting have become the norm for me.

It has an mp3 player that doesn't sound half bad. I have one song on it: Camper Van Beethoven's "Take the Skinheads Bowling." My ringtone? "Take the Skinheads Bowling." I wanted to edit the mp3 so that it starts right off with either, "Every day I get up and pray to Jah" or the chorus, but I don't have song editing software. I tried to use the Audacity software that came with me USB turntable, but it didn't work. So, if you call me and I don't answer right away it's because I am listening to my ringtone. I am a total dork. (I must admit, though, I kind of miss Duran Duran's "Rio" as my ringtone, if just for the reason ME would laugh every time my phone rang.)

I showed it off when I was out Friday night. ME called me so I could figure out how to answer a phone call. And a certain person, I will not mention names, but her name is also that of a certain crazy-ass musician, said (while sipping her shot of tequila), "What is up with this Apple phone I heard about." I wanted to ask, "Have you been living under a rock for six months? I didn't think there was anyone not even slightly aware of the iPhone." But the look on MK's face--and the rolling of his eyes--said it all.

I am such a geek for toys. I don't know why. When I lived in Madison, some days I would go to Best Buy and just wander around the electronic section playing with the various gadgets. If it has buttons and flashing lights, I'm a sucker for whatever it is.

And then there's this: A Hipper Crowd of Shushers. I'm not sure if I should be offended or not. I guess I am because people seem so amazed that librarians can be hip.

And the stereotype lives

...facial plumage...

Look at all the librarians

Ever been to a librarian conference? They're interesting to say the least.

When you go to a conference there are certain things you will always see: Lots of cat-themed clothing items, tote bags, themed sweaters, sensible shoes, and bad (or thinning) hair. Now, I'm not saying I don't have some of these things. I have librarian glasses. I wear sensible shoes. I have two cats. But I do not have cat-themed clothing. Nor do I have holiday-themed clothing (holiday-themed socks do not count). When you get us all together you see one big librarian stereotype. It's kind of scary. I look at them all and wonder if that is what I will look like in ten, fifteen years. How long does it take to move to the dark side? How long before I start carrying a Demco tote bag?

I just spent two days at the state library association conference. I have only been to one other one, but this one was a bit better. I knew more people, more people knew me, and alcohol was readily available.

Oh, and the chairs in the hotel lobby? When I sat all the way back in them my feet didn't touch the ground. They didn't just not touch the ground, they stuck straight out -- like a five-year old sitting on a sofa. I'm 36-years old! Being short can really suck sometimes.