Of rancid refrigerators, and Summer Book Club?

Hello all, and TGIF! For the first time since mid-March 2020 I am IN MY OFFICE, and boy has it been...interesting. 😂 To be honest, I am thrilled to be back, I am a creature of routine, and thus it feels so incredibly good to have a sense of purpose to my mornings again: to get dressed, put on makeup, drive in while listening to podcasts, and come to do work in my office. I'm coming in two days a week right now, and that'll increase as the spring and summer wear on, til fall semester classes start when I'll be back full time and teaching in person again.

😎

I can't wait! But I tell you, that first day back was incredibly strange. My office was frozen in time from March 2020, and that wasn't a pleasant place to be, to be sure. My wall clock was dead, pictures had fallen off my fall and were just lying on the ground for months, the calendar was trapped on that terrible month, and my mini fridge...

😱😷

Whoa boy, that was rough. :-0 There was a full container of what used to be Half & Half for my coffee. And 3 ziploc baggies full of things that I could not discern. 

*hurls*

It was pretty traumatic, let me tell you. :-0 The dash to the trash can commenced forthwith. But at the same time, it felt so cathartic to get rid of that stuff and put fresh new things in their place. My clock has a new battery, I put up a new 2021 calendar, the old planners are now all recycled...it was good, very good. I'm feeling more and more back to my old self every day.

In other news, I'm thinking ahead to the summer, and I'd love to host a Summer Book Club! It wouldn't have to be every week, we could take our time and maybe shoot for twice a month. But I'd love to read another Louis de Wohl historical saint fiction novel. What do you think? We have options for:

St. Thomas Aquinas

St. Benedict

St. Francis of Assisi

St. Francis Xavier

St. Helena

St. Joan of Arc

Vote in the comments if you'd like to participate!

Eyelash malfunctions, and need community novena ideas!

Happy Friday everyone, and I hope that you all are doing well on this May day.

*group hug*

May is one of my favoite months of the year, plus it has my baby's birthday in it, so that's helping to keep my spirits up. We're nowhere near being out of lockdown where I live, so it's been an endeavor to continue working on a new sense of normalcy in our household. I've been crafting a lot, as I've written about the past few weeks (and more to come, but I figured I'd give you all a crafting break ;-)), and dancing a lot. I had another online show last Saturday, in fact. It went very well, but as is so often the case with The Dancing Life, and with Clumsy Me generally, the instant I stepped out onto my "stage" (aka my living room) one of my new magnetic false eyelashes became dislodged. I spent the rest of my performance obsessing in my head over whether the eyelash set would fall off and stick to my face in some horribly awkward way (it didn't btw, but it was terribly distracting!). You know, these are the ways normal people spend their Saturday nights. :-0

I'll take that problem any day though! It was really fun. But I've also been trying to instill a sense of peace within myself of late by praying novenas. Novenas provide me with a built-in timeline and sense of structure and purpose, and I really love that about them. Currently, I'm praying the Our Lady of Fatima novena, and her feast day is coming up on May 13th. After that, is there any interest in praying a novena together, at the end of May or beginning of June? Maybe I could design a short series of posts on themes surrounding whatever novena we choose. I'm rather excited about this idea! Let's see, coming up we have Pentecost, feast of the Sacred Heart, the feast of Corpus Christi...

*thinking face*

If you have a suggestion, please do leave it in the comments! I'll decide next week and post about it then. :-)

A Tale of Two Toothbrushes - a study in marital trust...

Last night in the home of the Catholic Librarian...

*brushes teeth*

*pops cute purple toothbrush back into holder. Notes that there are suddenly 2 identical blue toothbrushes also present*

*retreats back to bedroom*

"Honey, didn't you notice that you and Henry both picked the exact same blue toothbrush when you replaced yours recently?"

This toothbrush coloration issue has been vexing us for quite some time. When we're at the dentist every 6 months, she gives us each a free toothbrush. And for literally years, they have all been exactly alike and exactly the same color - blue. When I inquired about this once, she apologetically told me that she had called the company that provides the toothbrushes to ask about this very issue - didn't they make other colors anymore? Because if you live in a dwelling with at least one other person, you want to be able to distinguish between your brushes. And the company had replied something about trying to be more consistent in their color choice? This doesn't really make any sense to me when we're talking about toothbrushes? :-0 You don't want toothbrushes to be consistent, you want them to be different! And I realize that we should be supplementing the free toothbrush supply with toothbrushes that we buy in other colors, but we don't remember to do this all that often, and so it's a constant balancing act with assuring that everyone has a unique toothbrush from what is available in our supply cabinet at any one time. I had only gotten my purple one by begging the dentist to prowl through through the toothbrush drawer in a desperate hunt for something that wasn't blue.

Anyway, back to the quandary of Mike and Henry having identical toothbrushes.

"So one of you is going to have to put tape on yours or something."

"My toothbrush isn't blue. I've been using the same purple toothbrush for the past few months."

😱😱😱

I tried to keep the horror I was feeling out of my expression as I replied: "But MY toothbrush is purple. I've been using a purple toothbrush for the past few months. In fact, it's been such an amount of time that I was thinking it was time to replace it."

I look at him with my nostrils flared, and he looks back at me impassively. He doesn't seem nearly as bothered by this disturbing discovery as I am.

So here's the thing: obviously, I...SHARE THINGS with my husband. You know. THOSE THINGS. I also kiss him on the lips all the time. So why should using the same toothbrush as him be something that causes me to recoil in alarm? I don't know, but there you have it.

"Well, I don't know, but I've definitely been using a purple toothbrush since January. The two blue ones must be the kids'."

I worked to steady my breathing as I made my way back to the bathroom. I flicked on the light and braced myself to confirm the truth. There were the two blue brushes. There was my adorable dark purple number. And there...was a white toothbrush with a lavender stripe. The sigh of relief that I let out left me weak in the knees.

"Honey, we're good." I was breathless from my exciting revelation and jog back from the bathroom. "Your toothbrush is white and just has a light purple middle, whereas mine is all purple. We haven't been using the same one."

He looked confused as to how these both weren't just "purple," and also bemused that this had caused me so much stress.

We can go on being happily married once again. We are using separate toothbrushes. That was a close one.

:-0

"So. Your new Fitbit. Didn't you hear it last night?!" A story of false accusation :0

Several nights ago in the home of the Catholic Librarian:

*happily sports new Fitbit Alta HR to bed to track my sleep*

"You love that new Fitbit, don't you?"

"Yes. Her name is Francine."

😇

That night I had a dream that Mike was trying to wake me up, telling me that my Fitbit was beeping incessantly.

Next morning...

"Sweetie, didn't you hear your Fitbit last night?! It was beeping nonstop, it must have an alarm set or something. It was right around midnight."

Oops. I guess that wasn't a dream. 😬

"No, sorry, darling. You know what a deep sleeper I am."

😬😬😬

I spend the next day Googling "phantom Fitbit alarm" and mentally sending sympathy vibes to people in the Fitbit forums reporting that they are in tears over their devices waking them up every single night (and it's ALWAYS overnight, right?! Just like the low battery indicator in your smoke detector?!) despite there being no alarms set. Several odd solutions are offered, all of which I employ. I reset the device, I change the timezone, sync, and change it back. I set an alarm, sync, then cancel the alarm and re-sync. The next night, I am sweating it out a bit that any of these shenanigans actually worked, and hide Francine in the linen closet under a stack of towels.

😀

As would be expected, we hear nothing. The next night, I was too tired to make the trek to the linen closet after getting into bed, so I shove Francine under our mattress. That night at midnight:

I sit bolt upright.

"Why am I awake?"

Mike is snoozing happily beside me as I hear a faint beeping coming from my side of the room.

Well, crap. I lay back down and pray that it doesn't wake Mike. It doesn't, and eventually I drift back to sleep. The next morning, Mike seems to delight in the fact that it woke ME up this time, and not him.

*glares*

At this point, I am mad. I've had kids and suffered through YEARS of sleep deprivation. Now that I am past that, I do not want a freaking rogue fitness tracker waking me up at midnight every night.

I do more online research, and reset Francine yet again. I resolve to keep the Fitbit out in plain sight over the weekend, when the disturbed sleep isn't as catastrophic, so that we know for sure exactly what is going on before calling Fitbit customer support. Otherwise, Francine is going to meet an untimely end.

Snort.

Saturday night, we are at a party until about 11 pm, thus when 11:55 rolls around, we're just getting into bed. Perfect. Midnight strikes.

I look expectantly at my arm. Nothing is happening.

"Look honey! It's midnight, and the Fitbit is quiet. I must have fixed it!"

Then I notice something. There is muffled beeping, but it is clearly NOT coming from Francine. Mike still tries to blame her. 😑I leap out of bed, determined to find the nefarious source of our nighttime trauma.

It seems to be on my side of the room, and I follow it all the way to our door. As I open our bedroom door, the beeping is clearly much louder, and originating on the main floor of our house. I descend the stairs in a run, determined that I will ferret this little *&@!'er out before it stops and we are left in mystery for yet another night. As I get downstairs, the noise becomes downright ear splitting.

I first check the alarm clock in the guest room, because our children seem to delight in setting alarms on that thing for no discernible reason. Nope. I go out into the living room and snap on the light. Could it somehow be the landline phone? Henry's Nintendo Switch? Is one of the remote controls losing it's mind?! I cannot figure out the source of the noise that is now imprinting itself permanently on my brain when I notice something flashing on our fireplace mantle. You know what it was?

Mike's weather station.

!!!

I felt a deep sense of satisfaction as I ripped the batteries out of the weather station and placed it in a heap back onto the mantle. I went upstairs and reported the news to Mike, who was just about to fall asleep in our bed.

😇

"It's your weather station, my love."

He looked dutifully both confused and horrified, as we've had that weather station for years, and never even known that it had an alarm function. I'm certain one of the children was involved in this plot to destroy our lives, but we'll never know for sure.

I've been sleeping like a rock ever since.

*righteous sniff*

Are you reading your Lenten Book Club book?! First post coming on Thursday!

How are those crafting obstacles coming along Tiffany? you reasonably ask...

Well.

😬

I suppose I shouldn't be so dramatic. Projects like these take time! AND, we do have some progress. Looky here!

I had finished Anne's Lighthouse Pullover over the summer, I think I reported in on this last time we broached this topic. Since then, I made both school uniform cardigans (for which I deserve a medal; navy blue garter stitch gets a wee bit boring after a spell :0) AND I made a Rhinebeck sweater. I will grant, NOT the sweater I was originally planning to make, but a sweater that I will wear at Rhinebeck nonetheless.

Look how cute my little pupil is in her new cardigan!

Pattern is "Sugar Maple" by Carina Spencer

So I'm making progress! I'm getting into holiday gift making season, so I did forget about at least half of the projects that are on this list. :0 But I'll get to them. It's a marathon, not a sprint, to be sure!

In other crafting news, there's been lots of excitement! I know I mentioned over the summer how I had gotten involved in Hogwarts at Ravelry, I waited excitedly on Platform 9 3/4, submitted a project in the Orientation thread, and was happily sorted into Gryffindor when the new term started. I did well, submitting projects to multiple classes and Weekly Challenges, and so logged in at the end of the rotation to submit my intention to stay on in Gryffindor House. Well.

*beams*

I had a message from the absolutely LOVELY Head of House in Gryffindor asking me to be the Prefect for the upcoming rotation. I was a little nervous about taking on a more active role so early on in my Hogwarts studies ;-), but I was also pretty excited. It's like my dream come true - I am Hermione!

So far, it's going positively swimmingly. I just check in every day and encourage my fellow Gryffindor Lions in their crafting goals. I adore the community there, and am enjoying myself tremendously! I also get to see our fellow Life of a Catholic Librarian community member Melanie, who is the ambassador to Platform 9 3/4 for Hufflepuff. She is also running one of the storylines this term (aka a class) and I really want to make something to submit over there!

😃

So much fun. It's all about community, yes? About fostering and nurturing healthy relationships with wonderful, kind people. God is so good to us!

What are you working on this week? Are you starting to plan out your holiday gifts? I'd love to hear about it!

"Why can I still not see this stupid portfolio? Was this not tested before they rolled it out?!" - 1st week of class adventures...

*waves weakly*

Hello all, I'm coming to you from a prone position on the ground, but otherwise, I'd say I'm holding up pretty well. :0 It's been an interesting start to my spring semester, but before we go there, we have to cover blog housekeeping, and thus talk about THE LENTEN BOOK CLUB!

Ok, so the tiebreaker poll was a bit of an epic fail. :0 We're all apparently book lovers who simply CANNOT be forced to choose between books because the tiebreaker poll ended in a tie.

😎

I get it, I really do! So here's what I propose that we do: Let's read The Thief for Lent, the theme is just SO perfect, and for the Summer Book Club we will read Kevin Lowry's conversion story, How God Hauled Me Kicking and Screaming into the Catholic Church. We will not have another book poll for a while, because well, we're all polled out. ;-) But we *clearly* all want to read these two books, and so we will read both! Let's work on acquiring The Thief for Lent, and after Easter we'll look at starting a Summer Book Club focused on apologetics in June-ish. Sound like a plan?

*virtual fist bump*

All right, sooooooo, my week. I'm exhausted, so there's that. Emotionally and physically. :0 It's not that it's gone poorly, but just like in every other semester, technical debacles abound the instant the first day of class rolls in. Combine that with multiple classes (I have 8 this semester, and this is the *lowest* number I've had since this enterprise started a year and a half ago), nearly 200 students to manage, and catching some sort of nefarious winter bug, and, you know, it takes a toll. I've been dragging the past few days, although my spirits haven't been down, so that's good.

I arrived on campus Monday morning in my little Honda Fit feeling mighty trepidatious. I know how first days tend to go: I walked up to my office, and soon learned that internet connectivity was spotty across campus due to a server issue of some kind. 🠔 Yeah, pretty much like that. :-\ My office PC was unaffected, but you want to know what was affected all day long? Our classroom's teaching station. And I was up for the 10 am class slot all by my lonesome.

Yyyyyyyaaaaaayyyyyyy 🎉

One of my colleagues finagled an iPad mini with an HDMI cable that was able to connect to the WIFI. So I was ultimately still able to use the teaching station and the projector, albeit a bit more awkwardly. The larger problem wasn't fully solved until Tuesday morning, but all's well that ends well, right?

Well. 😱

Tuesday morning found a new problem.

"Tiffany, are you over there? We have a problem. A BIG PROBLEM."

That's just what you want to hear shouted from your boss's office first thing in the morning, is it not?!

In the first few weeks of our library lab, we guide the students in creating an ePortfolio for their English course; we set them up with step-by-step video instructions on how to do this. Sounds foolproof, yes? It IS, unless a previously undiscovered little glitch occurs in the new ePortfolio software, and students cannot open or edit their portfolios after they've created them. This wouldn't be quite so apocalyptic save for the sheer volume of students that we teach in our lab - and this would be a couple thousand. Whenever we need to apply a fix with so many students affected, things get messy. Some had already created these ill fated ePortfolios, and so now we need to have them create new ones, but do other things to fix the problem and try to banish the old ones. Some had not yet created an ePortfolio, and so now we need them to do yet different things to create a Portfolio. Some will have no idea what is going on (can't really blame them in this instance), some will have 2 ePortfolios and forever be confused by which is which, some will not follow the correct instructions and will produce a malfunctioning ePortfolio, and some will do nothing at all until the end of the semester, when they will inevitably come complain to me about their low grade.

*collapses*

I've decided to deal with all of this...NEXT WEEK. 😳

I'm hanging in there; I mean, what else can we do?

I've also started to get the expected student emails, confused about where to click and look for assignments. No matter how clearly we try and spell things out in the directions, this always happens. I get it, to a certain extent. There's nothing like being addressed in an email as "respected madam," to make a girl feel old, though. :0

All right, that is my week in a nutshell! Over in CatholicLibrarianChildren Land, it is Catholic Schools Week, and my two munchkins have been enjoying all of the special activities and treats. I'm busily planning for Lent, and have I mentioned that despite my 100% failure rate with journaling, I want to try a journal again for Lent? Because THAT'S guaranteed to go well, right? What could go wrong?!

*high five!*

Let's discuss next week! In the meantime, what's up with YOU?! Would you rather our Lenten Book Club be Tea Time podcast discussions or written posts? I'd love to hear from you!

A return to reality...

Well, hello there, everyone!

*waves*

I had a REALLY fun time talking to you all last week about our upcoming Lenten Book Club. Tons of interesting comments were left here and in the Facebook group, and the resulting discussion was fabulous! Lots of votes have been cast, and there's actually currently a tie! This is the most drama we've ever seen in a Life of a Catholic Librarian book club poll. :0

It's all very exciting! We'll see where the votes are ate on January 30th and go from there.

*beams*

In the meantime...yeah, it's officially mid-January. What does this mean? This means that the holiday/New Year's glow has faded, and we have gone from glamorous belly dancing gigs, festive parties, warm fellowship, amazing food and drink, and days spent loafing about the house in my bathrobe while simultaneously crocheting and watching Christmas Hallmark movies, to the following:

(1) The spring semester starts in less than 2 weeks, and to say that we are not ready in our course preparation is the understatement of the century. A feeling of impending doom pervades our floor of the library.

(2) The weather has gone from charmingly wintry and cozy, to gray and cataclysmically polar within a span of 48 hours.

(3) Our "days off" begin with $1200 orthodontic appointments for one of my offspring.

(4) The dance studio is so cold that glamour goes out the window in favor of gigantic fuzzy socks and shroud-like sweaters.

(5) My new car and cute new suede boots are both covered with salt.

(6) My DVR has become clogged with Hallmark Winterfest movies that I have no time to watch.

😭

Indeed, the bloom is officially off of the rose. I'm no longer basking in money showers and glittery costumes. I am stewing in a pit of lesson plans and dirty snow.

😡

It's too bad, truly it is. I suppose, though, that this is what makes those good times all the sweeter. We'll get there. The semester will start, and it won't be nearly so bad as I fear. And then Lent will come, and we'll all enjoy each other's companionship on that journey quite well, I am sure. I also have some fun dance events coming up, including a very dancey weekend, with two choreography-intensive classes, plus a show that I'm attending. Life is good! Snowy, but good. God save us all from this frozen precipitation "wonderland."

What are you up to this cold January day, dear readers? Report in for duty, please! :-)

"I guess go ahead and start." *aura of unhappiness* Adventures in restaurant dancing, installment #6...

Well, today is the first day of class for the fall semester, but guess what? I don't want to talk about that. :0 Let's talk about something infinitely more enjoyable to me, and we can circle back to teaching another time. Because to talk about teaching right now would drain what little energy I have left to give. So there's that.

But Friday night, I had another dancing adventure, and those are always fun. Let's chronicle!

So, this shindig was about 90 minutes from where we live, and so Claire and I had a mini road trip to contend with on either end. 90 minutes isn't a big deal, but we definitely had to plan for it. We set off around 3:15 pm for our 5:30 set time and gossiped the entire way there.

We arrive, and find our destination in a mall. Not exactly what we were expecting, but no matter. We unload our gear (costumes, so many costumes, plus Sword, a candle tray, a cane, and a gigantic set of veil fans), and head in. I notice right away, and happily so, that the restaurant consists of 2 full rooms. It's much easier when you have multiple spaces to travel between, keeps things interesting. You're not marooned in one room with the same people for the entire 20 minute set. I did notice though, that there were no people seated in the second room. Nor was there an abundance of people in the other room. I am struck by a sense of foreboding.

*long suffering sigh*

We find the owner, and he has a real face on him. By which I mean he seemed to be somewhat annoyed by our appearance and existence. We hadn't talked to him prior to this, since we had been booked by his marketing person. He was just very hard to read. By the end of the night, we came to realize that this was just His Face. It just always looks like that, even when he's happy. :0 But we were unsure for a time.

We take a quick look around the place, and he pops us into this dank back hallway where supplies are kept, and which has been designated our dressing room for the night. Immediately, our shoes begin to adhere to the sticky floor.

😱

We creep to the end of the hallway, and carefully set up our stuff, trying not to get grease on anything in the process. I set Sword on a ledge and happen upon a squashed spider.

*shudder of revulsion*

We change into our first set of costumes, and head out to ask him when he wants us to start. There aren't many people there yet, just 4 tables full, and we'd be happy to wait until 6 pm to start, to allow for more people to fill in, we tell him. Once again, we are accosted by The Face:

"Go ahead and start."

OK then.

I'm up first (yayyyyyyyyyyyy!) and Claire sets up my music. I swirl out with my veil. I assess my 4 tables:

Table 1 - large, full of older people. They do not seem to have even noticed that there is a belly dancer waving a giant silk veil around in the middle of the restaurant.

Table 2 - a family with 2 young children. They are friendly, but the toddler appears to be terrified of me.

Table 3 - 3 other belly dancers that I recognize from Facebook. They enthusiastically came to see us dance, and establish themselves early on as the safe spot to refresh and recharge.

Table 4 - a couple who look up from their food and beam at me whenever I hip drop in their direction. They are also on my good list.

I make my way around the room. The belly dancer table is predictably very loud and raucous in the best possible way, and give me the energy boost I need to keep trucking. The couple table is just so sweet, and they also make me feel good every time I dance in their corner. The young family finishes up and leaves shortly after I start my set, so now I'm down to the two happy tables plus the older people table who still appear to not realize I am there despite my dancing several enthusiastic circles around them. There is only so many times I can bask in the glow of the belly dancer table praise and applause. Let's just say that the set began to feel verrryyyyyyyy.llloooooonnnnnggggggg....

Finally, I decide to take matters into my own hands. WHO IS GOING TO GET UP TO DANCE WITH ME?! Because it was going to be SOMEBODY. "No" was not an answer I was willing to hear.

I dance over to the cute couple, but they had just gotten back from the buffet. They both beam at me, but they were about to eat and I did not want to disturb them. I shimmy over to the belly dancers. The first woman I ask declines.

!

You're killin' me, girl!

I am not budging. I am hip circling over there until somebody gets up, and that was that. Realizing that I was not so easily dissuaded, one of them finally clamors out of the booth.

*angels sing*

We dance together for the remainder of the song, and as is always happily the case, getting people up to dance always raises the energy level in the room. She sits back down, and I steel myself to head back to the older people table.

This time I elicit a response. They seem to finally notice my existence, which is a pleasant change. I wasn't feelin' asking any of them up to dance, but they were now a friendlier crowd. Mercifully, this helps the set to pass faster, but I am still incredibly relieved to hear my drum solo queue up, and then finish off. I float away, awash in exhaustion.

I head back into our sticky dressing room to find some fresh air. Claire dances next, and comes back with a very long suffering expression:

"Good heavens. I really wish they had let us wait to start until later."

We change into our second set costumes and kill as much time as we can. It's about 7 pm, but the restaurant has advertised belly dancing until 8:30. Our sets are 20 minutes apiece, so as you can see, the math isn't really adding up on this one. Us peeking out from our little hovel finds us, once again, confronted by The Face:

"There are new people. Go ahead and start."

New people? *Two tables* 2. That's a TOTAL of 2, just to be clear. And one of them is the same older people table, just with a few new additions.

D'oh!

Sword and I nervously queue up as Claire starts our music. There is a big open space between the two tables, and Sword and I linger there. He gets a LOT of attention in this set, just for the sheer reason of using up some time. I swoop him around for a bit in that middle area, then troop him over to each table to balance. As is always the case, Sword is a crowd pleaser. Everyone is certainly now paying attention, and Sword actually accompanies me, ON MY HEAD, across the span of the entire room. He brought his A Game, that's for sure.

I keep Sword with me for the entire song before reluctantly handing him back to Claire. I now have 16 more minutes to fill with these same few people.

I will say this: when your situation is less than satisfactory, you're much more likely to drop your nervousness and perform better, because hey. What is there to lose at this point?

I dance over to the new table, a family with teenaged children. They are extremely attentive and I immediately deem them likeable. I overhear the girl mention something about loving dance, and that she used to tap dance, and I waste 0 zero seconds hip bumping over to ask her to get up and dance with me. She appears terrified and declines, which is disappointing, but you can't win them all. I dance back over to the older people, and there is now a woman at the end of that table who is extremely friendly and STARTS A CONVERSATION WITH ME WHILE I AM DANCING. While I appreciate interactivity, that's not exactly what I had in mind in this particular situation. I ask her up to dance:

"Oh no. I am a terrible dancer. I'm Italian!"

I inform her that I, too, am Italian, and this delights her to no end. She leaps up and begins to dance with me. The set has taken a definite turn for the better.

Her entire table is now watching us and clapping along, and it couldn't have come at a better time. I mean, there wasn't really anywhere else for me to go. :0

After she sits back down, I make my way back to the other family, and they are delightful and attentive, but good gracious, everyone must be sick of me by this point. I am like their personal belly dancer when they really didn't want one.

By the time my long drum solo for the end of the set finally starts playing, I am bathed in sweat and I can see the hair near my face sticking straight up in the air as a result. Sweat runs into my eyes, making them burn.

All glamour, all the time.

I love the drum song that I picked, but I was ready for this little shindig to be OVER. I move to the open area and am accenting my little heart out when I experience the sinking realization that the restaurant is silent. I glance nervously out of my arm formation and see that it is silent because everybody is watching me. They loved the drum solo. All 10 of them. 😂

We stalled as much as we could before Claire's set, but Face Guy really wanted her to begin, so she did. As she danced, closer to 8 pm, the restaurant began to fill in.

We told him so. :0

When Claire finished, there were a decent number of people there, although nowhere near enough to start filling up the second room. We change and pack up our belongings, very relieved to have this one behind us.

By the time I get home, it's after 10 pm and I am beyond exhausted. I am grateful to have a bit of a break from performing. For a few weeks at least!

Now I have classes starting. 😠 Not exactly fun times, but we do what we can. How was YOUR weekend, dear reader?!

*lots of keyboard clacking* "Hum. Oh dear." Adventures in traveling, 2017 edition...

As I mentioned in Tea Time last week, I had a trip planned for this past weekend, and we had been planning it since May. Saturday morning, my bags were packed, I was at the airport before 6 am for my 7:15 am flight (after a fitful night of sleep anticipating the early alarm), and I was ready to go. I walk up to the self-checkout kiosk thingie, type in my reservation number, and am greeted with the following message:

"THERE IS A PROBLEM WITH YOUR RESERVATION. PLEASE SEE AN AGENT FOR ASSISTANCE."

Well grand. Not exactly what I want to see before I've had even a drop of tea. I take the little slip of paper that it printed it out, and limp over to the ticket agent. She greets me with a smile:

"Good morning!"

That remains to be seen.

"How can I help you?"

I smile and hand her my ominous slip of paper. She looks down at it, still smiling.

"ooohhhhh. You're flying into Newark? That flight is cancelled."

BOOM. I wished I could have slept in before dealing with all of this. 😱

"Oh."

That's the understatement of the morning.

"Let me just see for you when the next flight is that we could fit you in on."

She begins that nefarious practice of typing on her keyboard with the constant clickety clacking sound that inevitably takes 10 minutes, yet results in a concise announcement just like this:

"Tomorrow."

"Oh!"

I really needed caffeine. This had never happened to me before. It was *6 am*. And there's not a single flight I can get on within a 24 hour time period? Apparently not.

"Tomorrow? Really?"

"Yep. It's weather related."

That really didn't fully answer the question, but I was too tired to dig for further details.

"OK, well...put me on that one, please."

She's still clacking away, while I text Mike to ask him to come back and get me. Suddenly, I had a painful thought:

"What time did you say that flight was tomorrow?"

"6 am!"

She said that so brightly. I groaned.

I deliberately had not booked the 6 am flight because it would have meant getting up at about 3:30 am. And I was already operating on one abysmal night of sleep.

"Gosh, that's... a bit earlier than I'd like. What is the next flight out after that?"

More clacking.

"2 pm!"

*long suffering sigh*


So here I am, home and cranky. But safe. Everything happens for a reason, right?

You need to give me this one little solace to cling to, people. ;-)

In the meantime, I did have a lovely weekend with Mike and the kids. I've been getting more writing done on my Bible study. AND I have lots of stuff to talk to you about in Tea Time this week! Upcoming novenas, Third Orders, books, fall crafts. Horray!

How was your weekend, dear reader? Care to commiserate on cancelled flights?

"Oh great! The Hawaiian dancers are here!" Adventures in summer dancing, take 343...

So, this weekend's dancing adventures were...interesting. We can say that for certain. ;-) Never a dull moment since I started training in Middle Eastern dance, and for a shy and timid gal, I suppose that is a very good thing. Grab your coffee or tea!

Saturday I had two dance events lined up: one was a larger studio performance at a local public library for a children's reading group themed around cultural dance. The other was a paid gig for 3 dancers at a country club for a corporate party. Each had it's share of challenges and amusements. :0

For the library event, we had a bunch of group dances scheduled. I was dancing with my troupe, and Claire had also asked me to do a solo with Sword, since she wanted a variety of props to showcase. You all know about my love/hate relationship with Sword as a balancing prop, but I do what I can. He's been a good boy lately, at least. But he adds an element of stress to any performance that I'd ideally like to avoid. So I was NERVOUS.

I was in a few group numbers before Sword had to come out. Our audience was quiet, to put it mildly. They were attentive (only one child was sleeping :0), and polite, but incredibly quiet, which can make them hard to gauge. Everything went great, although I was distracted by the hip wrap on our new gowns. It was sliding down a lot on my right hip, so I took some pins to it before my slot with Sword came up.

I posed with Sword, and my music started, and well...it wasn't the music I had planned to dance to. :0 This is where being fluent in improvisation really saves your bacon. There was a miscue on my part when I told Claire what song I wanted to dance to. I hadn't specified the version, and I assumed that she had the same version that I did. Never, ever make that assumption, dear friends. 😂

I swirled Sword around, but without the same cues I had marked in my practice, I had no reference points for where I was in the music/where I planned to balance, etc. Not much I could do about it at that point though, so Sword and I soldiered on. The music seemed to be going on interminably, so I stuck Sword up on my head and he balanced like a champ. I took him off, and did a lovely spin, but then the music kept GOING AND GOING. So I stuck him on my head again and channeled Patronus Face for all I was worth. A little toddler came out to dance with me, and his mother was mortified. :0 I think she was worried about the presence of Sword, for which I cannot blame her. Having people come up and dance is fine in other settings, but with the sword present, (even though it isn't sharp) it just isn't the best time for it.

So Sword and I navigated all of that as best we could, and I have to give credit where it is due: he was excellent. No bobbles or other stomach churning issues to deal with. Huzzah!

We finished the group pieces, and our quiet audience departed. They seemed to really like it, and they grew in number as we performed, so I know people were interested. They were just quiet. :)

Then it was time to ready for the evening gig, and my stomach went into definite churning mode. Claire, Amy and I freshened up, and then headed to the country club. We were all schlepping our giant costume bags, and I had Sword safely sheathed beside me. It took a few minutes before we found someone we could ask about where we needed to go. Claire had been trying to get in touch with the event planner all week about specifics on the party and venue, but had received no response.

*ominous music cues up*

The guy that we eventually found told us that the event was being held outside, under a big tent.

#ugh

We schlep out to the tent. Our approach made a few things abundantly clear:

(a) We'd be dancing outside. Not my favorite thing to do in summer humidity. And,
(b) The party appeared to have a luau theme.

This was alarming, because, well. It doesn't seem like Middle Eastern dancers really fit with a luau, yes?

The guy we met inside introduced us to an outside guy and departed. Outside Guy says:

"Are you all working for us tonight?"

Strange way of putting it, but sure. We all nodded our assent.

"Great. So, people will begin arriving about 6 pm. What we need you to do is stand next to this bowl of leis here and hand them out as they come in. Then you..."

"Um." Claire interrupts him. "We're the belly dancers."

Although I wouldn't have minded the lei handing out job, just for the record. :0 Sword may have been a bit much for that particular task, but still.

"Oh!"

Glad that's cleared up.

"Great! Glad you're here. John, these are the Hawaiian dancers! Could you talk to them about how to get their music cued up to the sound system?"

Uh oh. In an instant, a trifecta of brown eyes between me, Claire and Amy meet up in alarm.

"I think there's been a misunderstanding." Claire, our fearless leader, never lets us down. "We're BELLY dancers."

*blink blink*

"Belly dancers. Middle Eastern dancers. EGYPTIAN dance."

"Oh!" It took a second for that to sink in for Outside Guy, but there you have it.

"We're not Polynesian dancers. In fact, there aren't any Polynesian dancers in this area. Perhaps that's why your event planner booked us?"

It's Outside Guy's turn to look mortified.

"Oh gosh. I'm so sorry for this confusion. So...you don't dance in grass skirts?"

*pregnant pause*

"No."

Although if I could find a Polynesian dance teacher, I totally would! :0 A beautiful dance, there is just no representation around here, sadly.

Outside Guy apologized profusely that our time had been taken up on a gig that was not at all what we could have expected. We're not certain whether the event planner had thought belly dance WAS Polynesian dance, or whether, in the absence of actual Polynesian dancers, she figured: "eh, this will do instead"? At any rate, it was a giant misunderstanding for all involved. The event planner was not present, so we'll never know, I suppose. We were not the type of entertainment this party had been looking to hire, so we let Outside Guy know that we would just head out, and not to worry about the contract or paying us. He was immensely relieved, and took our information for future events that were not luaus. :0

So there you have it. Never a dull moment, no sir. And this weekend...*shudder* Never a dull moment is an understatement. We have the biggest festival of the year, plus I have 2 additional gigs (one with the troupe, one solo).  Sword's presence is once again being requested, and I suppose I can't begrudge him with how good he's been behaving. 😟 At this point, I need a vacation from my weekends. :0

But on we forge! How was your weekend?! Are you all set for book club this week? It's the third to last week, can you even believe it?!

When people already think you're strange...

...they might not wonder so much when you have bright green silk sticking out of your bag for veil practice at lunchtime, or take your daily walk with earbuds firmly ensconced, muttering to yourself, and accidentally smacking innocent passersby with an inspired arm idea. Because I do all of these things regularly. So at least it's not new news. :0

I have 2 dance gigs on Saturday. One is a cultural showcase for a children's reading program. The other is a paid dinner party/restaurant gig in which I'll dance a solo set. Let's just say I'm NERVOUS.

And when I get nervous, friends, I occupy my mind with preparation like nobody's business. So I listen to my set list multiple times. I practice improvised dancing to it, and film myself, on the lookout for weak hands or painful facial expressions that I can eradicate. I practice with Sword, or in his absence, a subbing umbrella, so that I can block that piece to within an inch of its life.

That's been occupying my mind quite a bit this week. It's just one of those things: this is my creative passion, and it means a lot to me to do it to the best of my ability. I will say, Sword has been a good boy. He's getting *4 gigs* this summer, and is downright gleeful about the whole thing. He's been on his best behavior.

But even when Sword is good, I am still highly suspicious of him, and his possible next move.

I was thinking today during my walk about how nervous I still get before I perform, even all these years later. And the restaurant gigs are the biggest anxiety-inducer among them. You're dancing for a lot longer than in any other situation, you have an uncontrolled environment containing food, moving people, and children, and your audience may be drinking/rude/completely indifferent or a combination of all three. See the potential for anxiety in there? ;-)

Indeed, when a person is nervous, it often shows in their face. And that's what I battle against the most when I practice. I film myself, and cringe when I see Thinking Face come out. Petrified Face is even worse, as you can imagine. So for the past year or so, more so then actual movements, I've been working on my face. :0

I mean, it's not like I can change my face. It's the face God gave me, and it does tend to look more serious than the average persons. 😬 I wish I could change this about myself, but there's only so much a girl can do. Claire always tells me:

"It's like acting! You put on your Happy Face even when you're nervous!"

And she's right. But I find that Putting On Happy Face on me actually looks like Don't Look At Me Sideways Or I May Cry Face. So last New Year's Eve, when I had the biggest gig of my career, I came up with a new idea. It's my Channeling Joy Via My Happy Place Face.

Seems like a subtle distinction, but it's an important one. :0 I'm not actually happy at that moment, you see. When I'm about to perform, and then begin to do so, I feel sick to my stomach. Pasting on a smile over top of THAT is decidedly not a good look. So I think about what does make me happy. My family and friends, for one thing. Indeed, Middle Eastern dance *does* make me happy at it's core; it's transformed this painfully shy child into a woman who isn't afraid to talk to people anymore, and to put herself out there doing the things that she loves. So I think about those things. And when I think about those things, I actually *feel* more joyful. I've noticed that my face, while sometimes still pleasantly contemplative, has become a lot more happily animated when I dance.

I think I can boil it down to this: before I dance, I am like Harry Potter summoning my Patronus. I  take my mind to the happiest memory I can think of. Then a big, ghostly animal comes and protects me from Voldemort...er, I smile and project joy when I perform. ;-) Let's now call this the Patronus Face. I should procure a copyright on this phrase. ;-)

So I'm working on my Patronus over here, big time. According to Pottermore, mine is a Wild Rabbit. How fun. :0

We have book club tomorrow, and Tea Time on Friday this week! What is going on with all of you as we begin the week?

"Oh dear. It's just a wee bit windy today." Adventures in summer dancing - hair and veil wrangling edition...

Welcome back, all! Given that yesterday was a holiday here in the U.S., I figured everyone would be too busy to be reading this humble little blog. Thus, I'm going to bump everything back a day for this week. I have a dance post from the weekend, then we'll do book club tomorrow, and Tea Time on Friday. Sound good?

This weekend proved another interesting one, as we move into full-on festival season mode. I thought we were going to be rained out, but nope. Instead, it was just windy, super humid, and waited to rain until we were 75% of the way through our set. Then it rained too. :0

When I woke up Saturday morning, we had no running water. *groans* There was some kind of street-wide problem, and the town crew had arrived on the scene, shutting off the water for several hours. Naturally, that was right when I need to make myself presentable and wrestle my hair into submission. It was humid, as I mentioned, and humidity makes my hair revert to its wild and feral state. It's not that my hair is curly - because it technically isn't. Curly hair is really pretty! Mine is this half-hearted situation in which it's very wavy and poufy in all the wrong places, like right up on my scalp. The Dignified Poodle look is not exactly what I'm going for, especially for formal events. It's like God got distracted when he was beaming down his finger to form my hair. :0

So I get it straightened, slap on some makeup and my costume, and am not even out the door before my hair begins its insidious journey upward. There was nothing I could do about it at that point, so I persevered on to my destination. By the time we arrived at the waterfront boardwalk that would be our stage, it was even MORE humid than before. It wasn't scorching hot, for that we were grateful. But it was also windy. Very, very windy. Wind and veils do not mix very well, even when they are heavier chiffon rather than silk. We readied our veils apprehensively, and awaited our noon timeslot.

It arrived, and immediately, Claire's iPod died.

!

She had some of the music on her phone, but not all of it. Oh, and did I mention that it died right in the middle of our first piece? Because it did. :0

We were standing out there with fixed smiles mid-traveling pose while Claire sweated behind us, flicking the iPod until it worked long enough for us to finish that piece. Then we had to re-do the entire set list on the spot to accommodate what everyone could access via their phones. We did the veil pieces in close succession hoping the wind wouldn't get worse before we could finish, but it did. Suffocation by veil in the middle of a public boardwalk isn't anybody's idea of a good time, but we do what we have to.

Fighting the good fight.

A few other numbers got off, and in-between, I was becoming increasingly aware of what we'll call The Great Hair Situation of 2017. As I mentioned, I have very thick and textured hair, and in heat and humidity it simply refuses to do my bidding. First, the waves start to come out. Then it begins the insidious expansion process, inevitably resulting in frizz and halos of the kind you definitely do NOT want. And this is what happens just when Hair is out and about in humidity. When you factor in gale force winds, and the fact that your dance choreography also includes spins in which we flip our hair around, the situation takes a decided turn for the worse.

Hair nightmare developing over in my end of the group

By the time we were approaching the end of our set, I was resembling SNL's Roseanne Rosannadanna:

But, you know. We press on.:0 The last two pieces of music Claire could find on her phone included an old standby that we hadn't planned on performing. That sounds fine, but we hadn't rehearsed this piece in close to a YEAR. I have to admit, I was a bit nervous about that one. Apparently though, these old brain cells are still kickin', because as the music progressed, I remembered each and every movement that went in the choreography.

#VictoryIsMine

#NotOld

#Yet

When we finished, I didn't even want to look at myself in a mirror. There was no way anything besides a titanium bristled comb was going to make it through the rat's nest I was then sporting as my hair, so I just carefully placed it over one shoulder and prayed for a swift journey home and into the shower. Hair and I had made it. Our next performance is also outdoors, and then I'll also have Sword to contend with.

*groans*

Pray for me. :0

How was your holiday weekend, dear reader?! Don't forget to pop back in tomorrow for book club!

"That stage is sooooooo questionable." Summer dancing adventures begin, 2017 edition...

Happy new week, everyone, and I'm super perky and glad to be back with you. I have to say though, waking up Monday morning to get ready for work, it wasn't so easy getting out of bed. Every muscle in my body ached. I had rehearsals on both Friday and Sunday, and my troupe performed on Saturday afternoon. I do love the dancing life, but there are a few more aches and pains involved than when I was younger. ;-)

We have two new choreographies, and I was feeling decidedly apprehensive about performing them for the first time as I strolled to the festival site, clad in my hot pink coverup mumu. The ridiculousness of me being worried about forgetting a hip bump or moving my arms in the wrong direction during the travel section in the new drum solo, while walking around in public looking like Mrs. Roper on her way to a particularly exciting evening, was lost on me, apparently. I found all of my mumu-wearing soulmates, and we congregated near the stage. A band was currently playing Brazilian music on it.

So the stage was...a problem. I remembered it being small from last year, and since then we've added a few more members. Not only was the stage small again this year (and by small, I mean SMALL. The three person band with their instruments barely fit on it!) but it was also topped by plywood that was gappy and uneven. There was serious lippage going on between some of the boards, and I was fearing disaster for the ankles of the clumsy among us. (ah hem. ME). Luckily, when Claire, our fearless leader, arrived, she took one look at the stage and declared that we would dance down on the street. :0 And that's what we did:

We're the super colorful specks in the distance. :0

And it went well! All hip bumps and new arms were accounted for. We wound up in different spots at the end of our new Shaabi number given that our surface area was so different from where we usually practice, and it was decidedly difficult to spin on blacktop. We also changed our directional front-facing during our set so that different people could see us, and twice I started facing the wrong way. Hey, a discreet hip circle to right oneself never hurt anyone. ;-) Oh, and the wind situation was not so good. Silk veils in wind do NOT make a good combination. Mine was wadded up between my arms at one point, and then cascaded down to cover my entire head. Lovely. But the new drum solo kicked booty! :0

We attracted a large audience and received a good reception from the crowd. I call that a successful festival. And we'll do it all again this coming Saturday!

How was YOUR weekend, dear reader? Don't forget, book club tomorrow!

A prayer for focus...

A little peek inside of the mind of your Catholic Librarian:

Dear Lord,

Hey, how's it going?! I know it's been a few days since I've been in touch in this way. I've been trying to be better about praying the rosary in the mornings, but. Wait...

*5 minutes elapse*

Sorry, back! I just remembered that the whole reason I sat down here was to take care of that email to Franciscan Media, and I wanted to do that before I forgot. Soooo, where were we?

Right! OK, so I need to work on this summer writing project. I need your guidance on this so much, Lord. I pray that the Holy Spirit...

*chime chime!*

"Tiffany speaking!"

*conversation ensues*

*5 minutes elapse*

*Tiffany hangs up phone*

*checks other notifications*

"Wait. What was I supposed to be doing?!"

 So sorry about that! I'm so easily distracted. And to be honest, Lord, THAT'S THE PROBLEM. I only have 2 months to get this project done, and let's just say that I have a llllooooooonnnnnngg...

"Hold on. Where's that notebook that I was working with last to keep tabs on where I left off?"

*searches piles on desk*

"Found it!"

OK, so Lord, you see the problem here? I need so much help in getting this project finished before the fall semester starts. Focus is a real problem for me, Lord. I need Your loving hand to guide me through this process, and for the Holy Spirit to inspire me with the words to write. Each morning, turn my eyes only to You, Lord, as I want only to do Your Will and glorify You through this work.  I ask this in...

"Crud! I forgot my lunch!"

Jesus' Precious Name. *sheepish*

Amen

😳

Singlehandedly raising the average patron age at Piercing Pagoda by at least 25 years, we have...

...your Catholic Librarian, at your service.

Sooooooo, I'm not exactly what you would call an adventurous person. ;-) But every once in a while, I like to mix it up and pretend that I wouldn't spend the rest of my life holed away in a hermitage wearing sackcloth and ashes (so long as I had WIFI and could still communicate with everyone via social media) if I could. Occasionally, I get bold. Or, at least my version of Introvert Bold. And so, over the weekend, it occurred to me that I'd like to get my ears pierced.

Granted, my ears are ALREADY pierced. I had a main lobe piercing done when I was about 8 years old, the way everybody did back in the 80's: at the mall, sitting in a chair in the window at our closest Claire's boutique store, with 2 teenage girls pointing piercing guns at my ears. Yes, that's the way they did it back then, both ears at the same time! I guess it helped with little girls deciding they didn't really want the second ear pierced after getting a load of the first one. :0

And it wasn't that bad. I remember a few tears, but on the whole I braved it pretty well, and I loved having pierced ears. The piercing held up well, too. Before I was a performer, I'd go months without wearing earrings, and my holes have never closed. I never really thought much about it until this weekend. A friend got her nose pierced, and it looks BEAUTIFUL, and I'm all: "maybe I should get a solidarity piercing?!" Because that's what friends do. ;-)

The idea gained steam as the weekend wore on, and like the true librarian that I am, I buried my nose in a little research. It seems that many people, when they get, you know, OLDER, tend to skirt away from the Claire's piercing gun and instead go to a tattoo and piercing shop, where there are experienced piercers on staff. Indeed, a tattoo place did sound infinitely more appealing to me than navigating the prom and Sweet 16 displays at Claire's, until I read that at a tattoo shop they use a needle to pierce your body part. Excuse me while I continue to live in denial, but NO THANK YOU. I choose to pretend that the piercing gun merely has a cupid's arrow inside of it, and not an actual needle.

*shudders*

I only wanted a second ear piercing. A piercing gun sounded just fine to me, even if it does have some drawbacks. I braced myself to be accosted by spinning racks of rhinestones and Justin Bieber posters at Claire's. Then I remembered Piercing Pagoda. A staple kiosk at malls everywhere, they offer more piercing services than Claire's, and I felt somewhat less conspicuous going there. Granted, I'm certain that their usual clientele is much *somewhat* younger than myself. But it seemed less teeny bopperish. AND they use an old fashioned piercing gun. And by old fashioned I mean newer and not nearly as scary as the 80's version. :0

Yesterday, I left work a tad early to head to the mall and Piercing Pagoda. The girl who was working wasn't a teenager, which I considered a bonus. PLUS, she had all sorts of awesome piercings and thus seemed super experienced. 😰 She was very pleasant and helped me pick out simple piercing earrings. Then she got ready while I sat in The Chair and contemplated whether this was all part of a midlife crisis for really boring people. Before I could determine an answer, she was ready, and carefully did some measurements. Soon, she was all set to go and so was I. They no longer do both ears at the same time (big surprise :0) so I was ready for it to feel like I was getting a vaccination. Except in my ear.

But really? It didn't feel like that. It didn't hurt AT ALL. :0 I'm certain other piercings do (that would be those that I can't even think about lest I faint dead away), but ear lobes are much less tear worthy than when I was 8. She did the second ear, and I was good to go, my cute little pink studs a badge of midlife honor. And here they are:

Not everyday that you get EAR PICTURES here at Life of a Catholic Librarian, but there you have it! I have to say: I LOVE THEM. I'm so glad that I got it done! So now every morning and evening I'm busily applying this little solution she gave me and twirling my earrings so that they'll heal properly. Yes, I do feel a little old to be doing such things, but you know what the good thing is about reaching a certain milestone age?

You don't care anymore. 😂

I love my little pink studs. They make me feel young and sassy. ;-) All right, this isn't typically how we close out a post, but here we go: do you have any piercings (that you feel comfortable talking about :0)? Are you hankering to get anymore? I'd love to hear from you!

When your day starts off precariously balanced on a chair in the front of the room...

Is your day sucking a little bit? Sam, I'm thinking about you. :0 Let's commiserate! Here is how my day started:

4:30 am - Wake up. Someone (*delicately clears throat*) set the alarm in our guest room without Mike or I noticing. Mike goes down to turn it off, but it woke both of us. We unhappily fall back to sleep.

5:30 am - Anne wakes us up when her and Oreo the penguin make a pilgrimage to the potty.

6:30 am - I blearily wake up and stumble out of bed. Long before anyone should be expected to employ coherent thought, I am pressed into service assembling Halloween costumes, pinning various things, and shoving not-nearly-stretchy-enough headpieces onto (apparently) heads that are far too large for aforementioned headpieces. This has always been a problem with my kids. Apparently, Mike and I make very tall, large headed children.

7:30 am - Mike takes the kids to school, and I unhappily head to work with my gigantic travel mug full of coffee.

8:15 am - Given the last minute nature of what we decided to do for our lesson this week, I am scrambling to finish up a few things before my class at 9.

8:50 am - I head to class, planner, notes, and coffee mug in hand.

8:55 am - I arrive at class. I greet students. I realize that I forgot my flash drive which contains an important MLA citation example exercise we will spend half the class time going over.

8:56 am - *$%#@^&$@!

8:56 am and 30 seconds - I race back to the library to fetch my flash drive, accumulating lots of extra steps on my Fitbit, but many, many unhappy thoughts aswirl in Tiffany's head.

9:01 am - I arrive back at the classroom, extremely proud of self, flash drive in hand. I re-greet students, pop flash drive in, and attempt to fire up the monitor on the instructor workstation. Aforementioned monitor fails to respond.

9:02 am - &^%$#@%*(!

9:03 am - I troubleshoot with the monitor, which translates to handling it roughly, shoving plugs in and out of holes, and moving the screen around in random directions. To the surprise of absolutely no one, nothing happens.

9:04 am - I resign myself to a non-working monitor and test out the projector. It works fine, despite the monitor not responding. I resolve to work bravely along with a crink in my neck as I lean painfully back and to the left to navigate with my mouse. Whatevs.

9:05 am - I turn to the projector screen to pull it down. The cord is wrapped around the rolled up screen several times, meaning that I cannot pull it down from ground level like usual.

9:05 am and 30 seconds - *&^%$$^&*&@!

9:06 am - With nothing but glazed over expressions greeting my every movement, I quickly dismiss the idea of asking a tall person to assist me, roll over the instructor chair, and carefully balance on it to unwrap the cord. VERY UNSTEADILY. Not the smartest idea I'd ever had, but hey, I was desperate. Somehow, it works.

9:07 am - We finally start class, me frantically opening browser windows and typing in URLs while wrenched to the side so that I can see the projector screen.

9:46 am - I finish class successfully, much relief in my heart. As the students file out, I call classroom services to let them know about the monitor:

"Hi! I'm in room 114, and the monitor isn't responding in here."

*delicate pause*

"Oh yes, we get calls about this all the time. Is the monitor powered on? The button is very tiny and hard to see, so people often don't realize that it is off. It's in the back, lower right side."

*Tiffany examines alleged button*

"Oh. There is indeed something there, let me press...Ah ha. Yes, that was it. It's fine now."

*Tiffany breathes sigh of relief that she did not identify herself at the outset of the call*

"A lot of people don't see it, no worries."

I had never seen the instructor workstation monitors powered down in the classrooms, they're always just sleeping and spring to life when you log in, so the thought didn't even occur to me. And the "button" is practically non-existent. So I'm trying to defend myself here, but I think I can sum it up by saying: I AM AN IDIOT IN NEED OF MORE COFFEE. PERHAPS WITH A SHOT OF BAILEY'S IRISH CREAM.

*collapses*

I now have to look forward to: Another class. Cooking for the kids and re-stuffing into Halloween costumes solo since Mike has to teach. Solo trick-or-treating, which will almost certainly include a "coffee mug" as was alluded to above. All before any of the other things I wanted to get done today. Bet you can't wait for tomorrow's post.

:0

The art of the social interaction...

We wear matching shirts sometimes. Because we are nerds.

I am an introvert, you all know this about me, though I am now a lot more social than I used to be. And with all of the interviews I've sat in on lately, I've been thinking a lot about social skills. I'm still far from perfect in my own, but I have come a lot way from the shy teenager I used to be. I really notice more, as an adult, how other people navigate these same social waters and how at ease they are with it. With children, I can see how they are, of course, not born with this skill, and need help in refining it. Right now, it seems like both of my children have not yet honed their ability to initiate and pace conversations. This is totally normal. It is also, after a time, incredibly irritating. I really need to get this off my chest. :0

I don't know about you, but I'm often absorbed in my own head. I'm thinking about lots of different things, I'm also trying to read something, plus I'm stirring something on the stove. Some people call this scattered, but I just call it multi-tasking. ;-)

When you're lost in your own thoughts, and another introverted adult (who also happens to be my gorgeous husband) happens upon you, wanting to start a conversation with you, it generally goes something like this:

"Hey hon. Did you remember to pick up that cheese we need for tomorrow?"

It is now the generally accepted social norm that there will be a pause as you think about your answer:

"Hum? Oh, right. Yes, I did. Though they didn't have the goat cheese I wanted, so I got feta instead. I think that'll go fine in the recipe."

"OK great, thanks."

We both go back to whatever we were thinking about previously. We co-exist in the kitchen together in companionable silence. We are both happy.

The following is what happens when one of my children happens upon me lost in my own thoughts:

"MOM!"

There is no expectation of a pause of any sort. If you do not immediately respond, they will continue shouting your name at you until you do.

"WHAT?!"

I can't help it, I have a low threshold startle reflex. :0 They always catch me off guard.

"I have to ask you a question!"

I had already clued into that, but no matter. You must acknowledge, or they will not proceed. I now have to respond a second time, and let the record reflect that NO QUESTION HAS YET BEEN ASKED.

*martyr!*

"Yes, Dear, what is your question?"

"Can I (fill in the blank. Usually something they know they are not allowed to do)."

"No honey, we've already talked about this."

"BUT...*insert incessant whining here*"

There is no end to this painful social interaction. :0 It goes on and on until either (a) the child is satisfied (pretty unlikely), or (b) they are sent to their room in tears.

It is all quite exhausting. Parents, let us BAND TOGETHER IN SOLIDARITY! Which translates to a virtual community glass of wine after the children go to bed.

On this same social note, Anne and I were out for a neighborhood walk together this past Sunday afternoon. I was pulling her along in her little wagon, her multitude of saint dolls also along for the ride. Suddenly, a women who was headed out to her car calls out to us:

"Do you go to St. Paul's?"

See, I had the pausal expectation on my side, so we were all good. I had no idea who this woman was, but she clearly goes to our church. I processed this all for several blissful seconds.

"Yes!"

"I see you and your children there all the time! How lovely...(lots of highly pleasant talk of the parish and Catholic family life).

In the past, I would have been terrible at navigating such a scenario. While I was talking to the original lady, another woman came out. A mother/daughter conversation team! Talking to people that I do not know used to fill me with anxious awkwardness. Now, though I don't seek out such opportunities (who else hates ordering takeout over the phone?! Online reservation form COME TO MAMA!!) I actually enjoy putting myself out there and talking to other people. We now have a new friend at the 11 am Mass, and I couldn't be more thrilled.

How about you, dear reader? Do you relish or dread social interactions with unknown fellow humans?

You probably don't even want to ask :0

It's been a crazy week in the life of your Catholic librarian.

Because sometimes, you just really need a gigantic cutout cookie...

And I hate being all rushy, rushy, kwim? But I've been all rushy, rushy.  I know that my life is NOT more busy than anybody else's, but when it happens I do mourn for peaceful solitude. In that vein, every time I tried to write this post, I was interrupted (fits the theme ;-)) but whenever I come back to continue I keep remembering that the St. Gianna Beretta Molla novena starts today. When everything seems chaotic, turn to prayer, yes? So if you'd like to join in, I'm starting today!

For the amusement of all of you, I'll relay my busyness troubles of late, and maybe you can relate.  Do detail your own escapades in the comments. :)

All right, so last week every single weeknight had an activity in it. Don't get me wrong, they were fun activities: the ballet, a visit with out of town family, dance rehearsal. All fabulous.

Then there was the other stuff.

The first day above 50 degrees since back in the fall, and guess who had to work on Saturday afternoon?

*weakly raises hand*

I don't normally have to work on the weekends, but we all have to pitch in on a handful of undesirable shifts over the course of the semester, and Saturday was one of mine. Lucky me. And BEFORE that, in the worst instance of scheduling cluelessness so far this year, I had made an appointment to have my hair dyed delicately trimmed. I come by this brown hair honestly. Mostly.

So I need to rushy rushy to and from the hair salon, and back home to scarf down lunch and brew coffee before heading to the library. I arrive for my shift Saturday at 1 pm, feeling particularly martyr-like. For two hours, I peruse Instagram for fashion ideas, chat with Samantha, and online shop for Mother's Day gifts. Then the phone rings.

It was a faculty member, looking for a specific journal volume. Everything went swimmingly until I discovered and relayed that aforementioned journal volume was located in our off-campus storage facility. And by "off-campus" I mean a less than 5 minute drive. We also will ship any requested volume to the library within a business day, free of charge.

Let's just say that the faculty member was very unkind in his reaction. This is a very charitable way of indicating "rude", just to be clear. Apparently, storage facility hatred is a thing. I was very calm and nice to him, which I think made him even madder. He hung up in a huff.

Afterward, I felt a little shaken up, but I thought to myself:

"You know, it must be a terrible cross to bear to be such a giant... CENSORED!!"

Indeed. In the past, I would have been upset about the whole experience for days, because it really bothers me to deal with people who act in such a confrontational manner. But over the years I have come to realize that we cannot control the behavior of other people, only ourselves. And it's pointless to let someone else's behavior disturb my inner tranquility.

Boom! Super professional and courteous, but inwardly conniving, librarian, for the win.

And those same skills are carrying me through this week, in that my students turned in the first draft of their final projects.

Sigh.

Does nobody read the syllabus anymore? Or come to class? That would also help. But even just READING THE SYLLABUS would aid them so, so much. It's only a couple of pages long, really. I promise. SO MANY QUESTIONS COULD BE ANSWERED THEREIN. That is the, you know, *reason* we created it in the first place. So when it gets to be time to turn in final projects, and some students have no idea what an e-portfolio even IS, let along how to use it, it gets a bit frustrating.

Thus, I spoke about how to draft and publish their work in the e-portfolio in class on Monday. I sent out an email that day, as well as this morning, about how to draft and publish their work in the e-portfolio. I pointed to the posted help documentation on how to draft and publish their work in the e-portfolio. Yet, some of the e-portfolios are still lacking content.

I get a few email responses:

"Do I need to hit 'publish' for you to be able to see it?"

Why yes. Yes you do.

Is it me? I think it's me. I am officially old enough that I have forgotten how college students think.

That's the verdict: I AM OLD.

Clearly, I need a few ridiculous belly dance gigs to stumble into my life to make me feel young and vibrant again. Where are all of those rickety stages and terrified-looking audience members when you need them?!

Oh, and then there is the overeager author who keeps calling me to request that the library buy his book:

"Have you looked at all of the emails I have sent to you?"

"Yes, thank you. If we're interested, we will order the book."

We're not. But I didn't say that. See, Operation Feelings Being Spared afoot, right there. I'm nice.

"But will you be back in touch with me?"

"No, we have all of the information, thank you."

"But you'll have to call me to order the book. You cannot order it any other way."

"I'm sorry?"

"The book is only sold out of my house. I have the boxes in my basement."

People, I WISH I was making this stuff up. Let's just say it's only Tuesday, and yet it's been a REALLY long week.

And then there's this:

This is after a WEEK of detangling work. #killme

In an effort to shorten my future time in purgatory, I occasionally put fingering weight yarn onto my swift and purposely tangle it into an absolute MOUNTAIN of thousands of tiny little knots, so that I can spend the next 10 days of my life painstakingly getting them all out, thus allowing the yarn to form a proper ball.  I will have to deal with inexplicable yarn fuzz causing tight, deadly knots, and the logistical nightmare of trying to detangle from both ends at the same time. I will have to face the terrifying possibility of CUTTING the yarn, and even worse, REATTACHING IT! And then, in the most painful irony of all: when the yarn is all safe and sound and ready to be knit, I will have to knit, not for myself, but FOR SOMEBODY ELSE. THEY will get to enjoy the super fantastic scarf/shawl/socks/whatever that likely has some of my own blood mixed in with it.

*glares*

That's how my week has gone. How has yours been? :0

Of soggy dance performances & brisk apple fetching, a fall weekend with the Catholic Librarian family...

Hi all *beams* and hope that you are surviving this fall Monday along with me. Today is the craziest day of the week for me, so I'm doing what I can to perk things up. For instance, da da DA!

Isn't it adorable? It's my new Scentsy fragrance warmer for my office. I have a cube of Coconut Pumpkin Pie wax melting in there and my office smells like a bakery. HOW did I not know about such possibilities before?! I love it. In terms of fragrances, my favorites are "foody" smells. It if smells good enough to tempt one to actually consume wax or soap, then that's the one I want. I noted with amusement that Scentsy advertises their wax as "food grade, and thus safe for pets and children." Something tells me these little cubes get nibbled on from time to time.

So, I'm happily sniffing the air in my office and preparing for class right now. Monday is my teaching day. So far so good, but I'm always relieved when that's past for another week. When I teach, I have to be "ON!" kwim? Just like when I perform dance. Or hang out with people that I genuinely like at conferences. ;-) Social interaction can be taxing for introverts. I absolutely love it when in a fun situation, but it uses up my power supply faster, that's for sure.

OK, so the weekend. On Saturday my troupe was scheduled to dance at an outdoor artisan's market. There were projections for rain, but I thought that the timing was going to work out, and that we would dodge it. We had rehearsed the group numbers, and I had a loose plan for my solo music both with or without veil, depending upon wind velocity. Saturday morning found me with makeup on and perky, ready to don my Saidi dress and head out the door, when...

...we received notification that the market had been cancelled due to storm conditions down by the water.

Booooooooooooo!

Major bummer. I was really looking forward to it. I love performing with my troupe. I do get very nervous still about dancing solo (working on that, but it's a glacial process :)) but with my troupe? Safety in numbers. And we always have so much fun together. So that was a drag.

When Anne went down for a nap, I put on a new performance playlist I've been working on (and it still needs work, I discovered...) and swirled around the kitchen for a bit, bringing out both Veil and Sword. They were both thrilled to be included. That was a fun workout for the day.

Oh, I should mention that although we put Anne down for a nap, she didn't actually SLEEP. Thus, when we later went to the vigil Mass, she was in such a foul mood that she refused to sit in the pew. Instead, she chose to stand, unmoving, and stare at us menacingly, looking like something out of Village of the Damned.

Mike, in whispered tones: "Is she always like this during Mass?"

Me: "No, it's usually the opposite problem."

*long suffering sigh*

On Sunday, we made our annual apple picking pilgrimage. We've found a really cute farm about 30 minutes away that we love. There is a hay maze and animals for the kids to pet:

Anne: "Mommy, look at this little turkey, she is my friend!"

Henry: "Um, I read the sign about Thanksgiving. I think the turkeys..."

Me: "...are very, very hungry, look at how they're going to town on delicious-looking pile of fruit and vegetables! Anne, did you see the goats?!"

Also lots of pumpkins for sale, of course, and tons of apple trees. In season this past weekend were Macintosh, Gala, Macoun and Cortland. We picked quite a lot of them, and have cobbler and pie plans for later in the week.

And so a good time was had by all. Unfortunately, the wine tasting guy wasn't there, which would have enhanced the fun had by Tiffany and Mike ;-) but everything went very well. We got some photos:

This pretty much sums up the story of Henry's life, right here...

...and headed contentedly home with our apples. :)

How was YOUR weekend, dear reader? Don't forget, the St. Therese novena starts tomorrow!

Morning routine, why do I hate you so much right now?

Hi all. If bad mornings are rated on a scale from 1 to 10, with 1 being "eh. Not terrible, I'll live," and 10 being "well that really SUCKED," then today's morning would get a solid 7, I'm thinking.

That does make two stressful mornings in a row, doesn't it? I know I'm not alone in this. Fall means adjusting to new routines for many people, and it simply takes time to get it all worked out. I know  that rushed morning routines are small potatoes in the global scale of things, it just helps to laugh at ourselves sometimes, right? Otherwise I'll go watch the news and cry again.

Monday, Wednesday, Friday are the culprits. Mike has an 8 am class, and so he drops Henry off at school around 7:30, as Henry's school begins at 7:45. This works out, but it's a close squeeze for him, time-wise. Meanwhile,  Anne and I are back at home, and I feel like I've got ants in my pants, because I like to be on my way to work by 8 am. I have frequent 9 am reference shifts and meetings, and so I like to be settled in my office around the 8:30 mark, booting up, brewing tea, checking email. Well, that's not possible right now, because I have to drop Anne at pre-K, and the doors don't open there until 8:15. And her school is in the opposite direction of the university that I work at.

#ugh

The past two mornings (Mike can usually take her Tuesdays, but I went along yesterday because it was her first day) have been misery. It's nice lounging with Anne for a half hour after Mike and Henry leave, but after that (let's examine this particular morning, shall we?), it's a cannon ball run:

"All right, Team Umizoomi is over! (God help me). Quick! Let's brush your teeth and get your shoes on! No, Anne, you can't take your (fill in the blank random toy) to school. Shoes! Where's your backpack?!"

We hustle to the car and get underway. Inevitable near occasions of sin involving other cars and garbage trucks ensue. We arrive. Anne drops her illicitly smuggled (fill in the blank random toy) and it scurries underneath my car as she disembarks. I have to climb down on my hands and knees to get it, gathering dirt and grass as I do so. Toy gets tucked back into the car. We hurry to the door, where we...wait until 8:15 for the doors to open.

*groans*

8:15 comes, I hustle her to the door for a goodbye kiss, and then I jet back to my car down the street. By 8:20 I am underway to campus. I arrive around 8:42, and guess what? Yep, staff parking lot FULL. AGAIN, I might add. I drive to a further-away student lot, park, and walk. I arrive on my floor of the library, a bit sweaty and disheveled, at 8:55. I quickly unpack my lunch, boot up my computer, and race down to the reference desk, pre-packed coffee mug in hand. The day I forget that mug, dear reader...well, you're really not going to want to read the post I write THAT day.

I get down to the reference desk, and find out that the entire ground floor of the library has no power. Delightful. People are scurrying all about, creating signs to put up announcing this unfortunate state of powerless affairs. One of my colleagues, the sweetest man ever, but a *talker*, kwim?! comes to the  reference desk to create a sign. And begins talking to me. About very random things. I have a class to plan for, plus I was rather hoping to work on this post during quiet moments. No quiet moments for Tiffany this morning, no sir. SO MUCH CHATTING. And there's no polite way to make the "I couldn't *possibly* care less, can't you see this legal pad I keep stealing looks at?!" face. So I had to chat about current films and other events until he wandered off. These are the moments whereby I am *dying* for a student to come up to the reference desk demanding that I try and help them procure an imaginary, free library copy of their textbooks.

After he left, I put up the "Librarian will be right back!" sign, grabbed my legal pad, and headed into the reference stacks to grab a few encyclopedias for my class. When I returned, two officious men wearing i.d. badges were circling the reference desk in an ominous manner:

"We're here doing an inspection relating to the power outage. We see a violation relating to your power strip. You will have to power down your machine."

In all my years, I tell you, this is a first. There goes my budding lesson plan. Of course, the reference desk machine picks THAT MOMENT to install a *#@!load of updates before it will power down. I think it was giving the inspection guys the virtual finger.

What feels like many minutes later, I boot back up the reference computer and open my fledgling lesson plan. I reject my initial flock of encyclopedias and go back for others. I finally piece something coherent together.

By the end of my shift, I was feeling scattered and edgy. I could also feel my hair curling and expanding due to the humidity in the air. It wasn't the greatest of mornings, I suppose. But here I am, finishing lunch, and I'm still in one piece, so how bad could it be?

How was *your* morning, dear reader? Here's raising my cute orange water bottle to coming up with ways to improve our morning routines! :)