Kristen called me last night bubbling over with geeky joy from Jenny Levine & Michael Stephens's TLA presentation on wikis/blogs/RSS. Welcome, my friend, to Bloglines. Welcome to our Brave New World.
What's that? I've used this title before? Did not.
- While looking through a print article for a particular word last week, I mentally attempted to click "Edit," then "Find (on this page)."
- Last night on my drive home, I heard a song on that radio that I liked, and my tired brain immediately desired to tag it.
Digger #285: riding trolls is gleeful escapist treasure.
I'd heard of the African camel libraries before, but this thorough story and photos from the BBC is poignant.
Did I mention that Etsy seller stopsandstarts is a bizarre genius with felt?
This is just amusing. Is nerd the new black?
If I could spend three hours a day photographing, Photoshop-ing, and Flickr-ing, I'd be a very graphically contented person. Of course, then there's the call of painting, writing, and sewing to still beckon me on... Drat that Creative Muse!
As evidence, Alex and I hadn't been to a single movie in the theater--not even the cheap theater--since Batman Begins last summer, until last month we broke down and watched a matinee of V for Vendetta. That's right, the couple who waited a month in line for Star Wars have watched one movie in the theater in the past nine months.
Granted, it's a little easier of a choice to make when home theaters are so nice now, blockbuster sends movies to your door, there aren't any fussing kids (well, not in my house), and popcorn isn't $10 a bucket.
Evil, evil Big Oil. Is it any wonder that hybrid cars are expensive and yet still don't save you that much in fuel costs per fill-up? There are a lot of people out there that stand to lose a lot of money if we give up our gas-guzzlers.
No matter your take on the book itself, you've got to admit that this judge had a mighty fine sense of humor. Update: the code is cracked!
I'm sorry, but there's something disturbing about the use of the phrase "pillow-lipped" to describe Angelina Jolie. I keep picturing these huge fluffy white things attached to her face (shudder).
And... why is this in the "odd news" section? What, it's odd that people recognize that Kiera Knightley is gorgeous? Maybe the news editors are just still stuck in the "British people have bad teeth" prejudice.
So, "It's Hip to be Pregnant." Well, finally. And here I was avoiding it because it was gauche.
- Front Page News (awesome)
- Atomfilms Interview with Trey (why yes, that is me in the costume...)
- Return of Pink Five, Vol. 1 (finally!)
And so do Trey & Amy.
Essentially, Rory argues that librarianship is currently divided into two camps. He roughly classifies the geeks as techie, sci-fi/fantasy/comics fanboys, pop culture afficiandos, and bloggers. Ther nerds are identified as serious readers and intellectuals. Rory mentions that librarianship seems in peril of being taken over by the geeks, who by and large do not possess the "store of bibliographic knowledge combined with knowledge of the principles of librarianship."
Rachel argues that many librarians fit into both categories too well to be marginalized--she asks with humor, "Do I really read too much science fiction to be a good librarian?" I concur.
To add my own $.02, I don't see much current danger of geeks taking over in the library job market. Granted, I've seen two positions in Texas listed as "metadata librarian" and one library position posted specifically as a web developer--but in every case, an MLS was absolutely required.
Who gets an MLS? The readers--call them nerds or geeks, serious readers or sci-fi escapists, the heart of them would be classified as "nerds" because they have consciously chosen the library science route. They are educated in those "principles of librarianship" first, no matter how many "Metadata 101" or "Blogging for Academic Libraries" courses they take. I've known one or two students at SLIS that came there from the computer science route--the rest of us are former English majors and "professional students."
So while I get Rory's point that pure geeks alone might not create the most helpful library staff, librarians need to--and are--increasingly embrace technology to keep up with our patrons, particularly in environments like the academic one in which I work. Point out to a student that you can email a full-text article and ask for help in a reference chat room, and they're suddenly aware that you're not only not an old foggie, but that it might actually be fun to talk to you.
Alex has been bringing home exotic varieties of dark chocolate for me. At first, these appeared to be merely spontaneous acts of kindness, of the "we had cake at work today, so I saved you a piece" variety. But after he specifically called me this morning to request that I sample the latest kind and keep track of which ones I liked best, my suspicions jolted awake, took a long look at each other, and said, "Hmmmmmm."
This was a weekend of indulging our sugar craving, as well.
So, while the gusting wind on Sunday prevented our finishing the building roof, on the upside, we got to enjoy ourselves. And so, the week begins.
I shudder to think of casting young lookalikes for William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy. This better not turn into the space version of Dumb and Dumberer.
NOTICE: Eeek! Digger archives are free for a few days--go read them, all. Yes, I mean NOW!
So I got to wondering, what is it with the urge to leave your mark on things? I immediately think of the "Kilroy was here" phenomenon, as well as bathroom stalls, park benches, and fresh concrete. I'm not talking about the urge to leave rude, obscene, or gossipy comments--that's another urge altogether, I think--but simply wanting to leave your mark.
With me, at least, there are several reasons. First, there's the desire to create a permanent mark, some small legacy that when you're eighty you can take you grandkids to and say, "Hey look, I did that when I was a spry young gal." Then there's the urge to do something slightly naughty--I think it's the result of all the classes in high school that I never skipped out on. My group of friends seems to prove that if you don't get your inner rebel out as a teen, it comes back to dominate your adulthood in one fashion or another. (For me, it's buying clothes at Hot Topic and being geeky--among the tamest of rebellions, I know.)
Both of these reasons played a part in a small instance four years ago when the sidewalk near our rental house was torn up and redone. Alex and I stole out late one night, giggling like the juveniles we are, and inscribed "A [hearts] S" in the fresh concrete. This, however, I can also justifiably blame my parents for, as they used the fresh concrete from their shed when I was a kid as a canvas for our hands and the pawprints of our cats.
Then again, it was their shed.
Then there's the desire to leave something clever, wise, and/or funny for others to enjoy. I quite enjoy reading insightful bathroom stall doors, and am always struck by the fact that even if I lacked my inner rigid moral scolding--er, conscience--and could bring myself to put pen to stall door, I really have nothing clever, wise, or funny to put there.
I wonder, does this urge occur to writers more than other people? Is it merely the seductive quality of the written word, no matter where it is written, that calls out? Or is it all due to the smirking youth that lurks inside all of us?
Sheer photographic genius with a Darth Tater and Peeps.
An admirable Flickr collection of things you can place on your dog's head.
Tally of teams with most fan loyalty (Go Spurs!).
For the creative goth in all of us: Zombie Twin Skirt.
When you just need a cool/funny shirt.
List of Next Gen Time Travel Episodes. Oh, the geekery of it all.
Next Gen guide to Temporal Mechanics.
For the bling-loving booknerd in your life: typewriter key bracelets.
Conversation-starting jewlery made by a librarian...
...including Art Bracelets!
This brings back a quiet, sunny afternoon in Padua when I succumbed to the seductive sweet of one scoop of this homemade treat, and a scoop on top of lemon. Yep, I'm ready to go back.
Hey, my Peep is semi-famous. Hooray!
Today has been painful in more days than one.
As I not-so-gracefully slung myself into my office, I slammed my left pinkie toe into a column with sufficient force to bring said column toppling upon my head--but thankfully our home is well-built, and I only succeeded in nearly slicing a hefty portion of meat off the end of my toe. Alex hadn't left for work yet, so he carried me into the bathroom, where I faintly demanded bandaids, a trashcan, and bactine in a tone that indicated I had small amounts of both patience and confidence. Thankfully, my spouse seemed to understand that my attitude was born of pain and the fluttery feeling that accompanied the rush of blood leaving my toe.
I managed not to break the ridiculously small digit, but you'd never know it from the pain. I hobbled about the house as little as possible, lest I suffer the sensation that rather large piranhas were munching on my left foot.
The rest of the day's pain came in the form of my Inferential Statistics Assignment. Although the work itself wasn't quite as dreadful as I had been--er--dreading, the program that we're supposed to use crashed my laptop after half an hour of fighting, and then I fought with it for another half hour on the desktop. I hope the laptop speaks to me tomorrow after being put through such a torturous experience.
My high school opinion of Statistics as a subject of study has changed very little. It's a suspicious sort of opinion born of the fact that the more I learn about statistics, the more I become aware that they can be construed to appear to support any theory you wish. I will here grudgingly admit that they can also be a useful research tool, but I remain suspicious.
Okay, I am now nostalgically satiated. I've had the 80's Nickelodeon show, "Pinwheel," theme song stuck in my head for weeks, and couldn't quite remember what the show was about, other than that it featured puppets. Then after Google-ing it, not only do I find it, but the site is called RetroJunk and its graphics feature the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Lion-O, He-Man, and the A-Team. Pure eighties bliss.
Stories to tell and jokes to be had at my expense, but they must wait while I run some errands and get myself to work.
Oh, and thank you Helen for re-posting this site; I had been thinking about it this weekend... Enjoy the demented fruits of Peep Research.
I got a haircut--yay!
I woke up with this totally random craving for frosting, and it turns out that today there was a Student Worker Awards shindig--with cake! Frosting craving satiated.
The irony, however, is that much as I dread the drudgery of it all each March/April, and every year I make heartfelt and ancient oaths that next year I will take it to a CPA goshdarnit, I come back the next year for more torture. Why? Because I am a control freak and a sick, sick person. What's the point of paying someone several hundred dollars just to file the thing when I'll still insist on sorting and labeling a year's worth of receipts, instead of dumping my shoebox of financial papers off like any normal person. Having someone else do my taxes probably won't save me any time or heartache in the end, and if I did miraculously decide to let go my iron grip and not examine how they got every decimal point, I'd either scrutinize the whole thing at length afterward, or I'd be kept up at night for months wondering how on earth they calculated my home office deduction at $781.33. Shouldn't it be 779.31? Will I get audited for their ridiculous oversight? Can it jeopardize my future plans of retiring in ridiculous wealth to a shabby Venetian mansion?
It's a darn good thing I like sci-fi, computers, and video games. If I wasn't so quirkily geeky, I'd be in imminent danger of just being annoyingly, boringly nerdy. Good thing I'm not going into a profession traditionally perceived as nerdy.
Such a full weekend--where do I begin?
Friday, as evidenced by this photo, was University Day at UNT. I couldn't participate, as I was on duty at the desk, but wore my green U-day shirt in celebration. I'm rather fond of the 'ol green and white.
I'm battling to get taxes done right now, particularly when there are so many interesting things going on. One of those is working with Annie and Monika on several library displays--we finished one last week. The posters read, "Take a break: read a book!" and there are a lot of great pleasure-reads on the table, which faces the library entrance. It's been heartening to notice so many students stopping and looking on their way in--at something I was a part of! I'll try to snag some photos and post them later this week.
After fighting with Photoshop, Illustrator, and MS Publisher Friday afternoon, Alex and I went to Bullet Trap with his dad. I'd have taken a few amusing photos, but you're not supposed to use cameras or cell phones on the range--which I suppose particularly applies to camera-phones. The spent brass from several people kept jumping into the cuff of my jeans; eventually I stopped dumping them out and waited till I got home. I used a Beretta Tomcat 3032, which I find much easier to handle than anything else I've shot. It actually fits my shrimpy little hand, and the kick is pretty minimal--I can actually hold it steady while I shoot. It's nice to have a real target to shoot at, but the range is so noisy that I really prefer shooting out in the country--much more peaceful. It's hard to hold your arms steady when 40-caliber gun reports are echoing off concrete walls.
Saturday Alex and I went to a gun show in Big Town, and I enjoyed it a lot more than the last two I attended, though I can't say why. I love all the history on display--Civil War artifacts and Nazi paraphenalia abound in glass cases. It continues to take my breath away, being inches away from something fifty or more years old, that played a part in a world-changing event. You'd think that it wouldn't seem so impressive, maybe, after seeing something as old and famous as da Vinci's Last Supper up close & personal, but any piece of history is amazing to me. I don't know exactly what it is--perhaps just tangible proof that these storied events actually took place, that people like my Grandpa actually lived through these things. (He's got some amazing stories about life as a POW in WWII--hard to believe that my jolly, smiling Grandpa lived in such gritty circumstances.)
Sunday, some of Alex's work buddies were gracious enough to help us roof half of our building! (Remember that building I was talking about waaay back in December? Yeah, that building.) Thanks to Keith & Josh's hard work, and some help from Rudy--while Mylene and I supervised--we got half the roof up in about five hours. We're all feeling the aches and lack of sleep today, though. (Thank you, guys!!!)
Aaaand that takes us up to today, which was spent cleaning, filing, and looking for my 2004 mileage book. Did I mention that I dislike filing taxes?
I discovered it while perusing the Eisner Nominations, courtesy of the ever-astoundingly talented Ursula Vernon--she comics! she paints! she writes! she blogs! Drat her for being multifacetedly (yes, that's a word) talented and productive. And kudos to her for her own Eisner nomination and for making a living by her art.
And in other news, yesterday I got my beautiful seductive copy of the complete "Crisis on Infinite Earths," so I can finally discover what was going on in comics while I was playing dress-up and watching the Royals win. Namely, the incredible insanity that took DC in 1985, and why Barbara Gordon now has to be Jim's adopted daughter, and why they had to kill off Supergirl entirely. It calls, it beckons, its full-color pages sing like sirens, but I'm stubbornly turning my back and working on schoolwork. Phooey.
Yes, I just spent an hour sketching and thinking up comic ideas. Yes, I'm now going to responsibly spend the next two hours before work on taxes and schoolwork and jobsearching. No, you can't see my sketches.
Today I had the great fun of attending the Edible Books Festival in the Rare Books Room. I ate Book-lava, savored A Clockwork Orange-and-chocolate-cake, and laughed at a clever sandwich book titled My Bologna Has a First Name. I got to see many SLIS and Willis pals that I haven't seen in awhile and got a sugar high.
For past Edible Books fun, see the 2004 and 2003 winners. Or read about how this whole bizarre thing got started. You can also look at this year's winners for the Art Book Competition. (I'll link to this year's photos as soon as they're up.)
My personal favorite: Great American Novel (some assembly required)
I've desired to and somehow avoided entering both of these competitions each year for the seven I've been at UNT. I need to get my act together and make some tasty and/or artistic books.