Aging reference librarian on the loose

The other day I was on the reference desk for a busy afternoon shift. I'm usually on in the mornings, when it is very quiet, so I suppose I'm often shielded from interactions like the following which are, quite frankly, annoying.

I don't like to be annoyed easily. It makes me feel old. I live in fear of becoming crotchedy. Curmudgeonly, even. I don't want to become all decrepit and frown-faced while using words like "newfangled" and "whippersnapper." I like to be seen of as kind and nice, and you know, sweet and helpful. But sometimes, it's tough.

While on the desk on the day in question, a student approaches.

"Hi. I have a paper due tonight..."

...let me interject here that it was approximately 4:30 pm. Ok, we continue...

"...and I just don't understand what my teacher wants. Can you look at my assignment?"

Now, this is becoming a disturbing trend. I mean, what do you all think that librarians do? I think they help others find information. I do not think that they can channel instructors and read their minds to figure out what they want. And for some reason, more and more students *really* think that librarians have these powers.

"I think you should ask your instructor personally. I won't be able to interpret the assignment any better than you could yourself."

*distinctive whine tone inserted into already attitudey voice* "Well, I just don't know what the heck she wants, and I just really feel it's unfair. I've already talked to her and she isn't helpful. I really want you to look at it."

I was already feeling annoyed by this student's attitude, but one of my colleagues was on the desk with me, and I really didn't want *her* to think that I'm crotchedy. So I agreed.

I expected him to pull his syllabus out of his backpack. Oh no, old fogey one. He slaps his laptop down onto the reference desk and opens up an email to show me.

I had to smirk to myself at the fact that the email was from his instructor, and based on what I was reading, she too was annoyed by this student's attitude. The message stated that she expected him to act like a college student, do actual work, and follow directions. That she expected him to review the relevant literature and cite it in his paper. Let's be curmudgeons together, you and I...

I cleared my throat and told him that it looked like he needed to find some sources.

"I HAVE. I have these books here. But I haven't read them, I mean, I DON'T HAVE TIME."

Well, yes. That's because it's now 7 hours before your paper is due. Did you just find out about the assignment now? No, I didn't think so. That's what I was thinking, although that's not what I said. That crotchedy thing again.

"Well, you can skim the table of contents and the index to find the relevant parts, and just read those. We can also look for articles, and those have the benefit of being shorter."

"Ok, but again, I don't understand what she's looking for. I mean, she says we have to do "research." But I don't understand what the heck does she wants. I don't have time for this!"

By this point, I was really wanting to give this guy the boot. His whole demeanor and what he was saying conveyed that he considered this a gigantic inconvenience. I mean, imagine that, his instructor actually expecting him to WRITE A PAPER and READ LITERATURE IN HIS FIELD in order to earn his degree! The INHUMANITY!

It's this sense of entitlement that really turns me off to some of our students here. They seem to think that if they are breathing and show up to class 50% of the time, they're entitled to get a degree when they've done this for 4 years. Not so, my friend. And I too procrastinated when writing papers in college, I'm very familiar with this quandary. But I TOOK RESPONSIBILITY for my poor time management skills, and stayed up until my paper was done. It was NOBODY'S FAULT BUT MY OWN that I CHOSE to wait until the last minute.

I see that I'm using caps a lot in this post. It's because my eyebrows are furrowed so tightly together right now recounting all of this.

I finally sent him away unhappily to a nearby computer to get started skimming his sources and writing. Before him, I had a very nice, but *very needy* guy who came to the reference desk no less than 4 times asking for help with his World Civilizations paper. He kept asking me if I thought his topic was ok. I can't tell him that, he simply HAS to speak with his instructor about the parameters of the assignment. He wanted me to tell him *what he should write in the introduction to his paper* and he didn't know how to navigate the Library of Congress call number system. The latter part I still find somewhat shocking (for native U.S. students, which he clearly was) but I try to be understanding that maybe their high school library failed them. But writing a paper? Yes, college is the place to fine tune that, but the librarian can't help you, sir. GO TO THE WRITING CENTER. He was very sweet, so I helped him readily, but it just saddens me to see the state that our incoming students have deteriorated to. They *really* want someone else to do their work for them, in many cases.

By the time my shift was done, I was dying to go home and have a glass of wine. When I was in elementary school, we all learned how to use the big card catalogs by our scary librarian. AND how to navigate the Dewey Decimal System. Henry actually knows how to use a library better than some of the students I see here. UGH.

But I don't want to be the next scary librarian, so I'll try to put on my smiley face again. And act younger.

I'm dreaming, and a baby is crying. Oh, oh wait...

Last night was one of those nights. We had barely fallen asleep, and I stumble up, expecting it to be at least 2 am, and the clock tells me that it's 10:30 pm. I do not believe aforementioned clock. But yes, it is true. Anne is awake. Not only that, but after waiting a few minutes to see if she'll go back to sleep (ha!), I go in to find her *sitting up* in her crib, howling. She's so happy to see me that she tries to *stand up* to greet me. Fan-tastic.

And after that, we're woken again, and another nursing session commences. On the third go-round, I gave up and took her downstairs to snuggle on the sofa and watch the season finale of Sisters Wives on demand. I don't approve of Sister Wives, but what can I say? I can't look away. Plus, it was the season finale and a new baby was being born. I cried. Because I always do when babies are born, even when they're not mine.

After Sister Wives, I put a sleeping Anne back in her crib, and then guess what? I couldn't fall asleep, even though she was sleeping. Sometimes life just isn't fair.

Then, naturally, come 6:30 am, I was dead to the world when I felt Mike get out of bed. When I saw the clock, it and I had yet another disagreement. I laid there until 6:45, when I forced myself to drag my body out of bed. It was tough, but I managed to make myself LOOK ALIVE with some creative makeup and hair combing. I did feel better once I got down for breakfast.

And these days, holy smokes. Anne is into E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G. Put her on the floor. Does she play with her carefully arranged and safe infant toys that are well within her grasp? Oh no. Her sight is set on any number of other destinations.

The fireplace!

Electrical wires!

DVD case!

Nativity figurines!

So we're now in THAT PLACE. Wherein your butt cannot touch the couch before one of us has to leap up to save her from some approaching calamity of her own devising. And it'll only get worse once she can pull herself up and reach tabletop surfaces.

Oh dear.

Peace be with you...

And with your spirit. :)

So, back from my first Sunday of Advent initiation into the new translation of the Roman Missal, I have positive feedback to add. I was all excited to go to Mass yesterday, and I wasn't
disappointed.

Overall, I really like the new translation. It's definitely off-putting to have to get used to something new, even our priest looked out of sorts. And the congregation responses aren't going to be unified for quiute awhile as everyone adjusts. But I love the new wording in the
Penitential Rite, in the Nicene Creed, and in the Eucharistic prayers. I'm having a doozy of a time with the replacement for "and also with you." I got that wrong yesterday twice despite my conscious telling of myself to look out for it. That one just doesn't roll off the tongue for me.

But otherwise, all is well. Query though: we used Eucharistic prayer #3 yesterday. The new wording says that Jesus died "for you and for many" rather than "for you and for all." Anybody have any insight into the background of this change?

In terms of the Eucharistic prayers, it's a bit confusing in my little St. Joseph Sunday Missal. Many of the prayers now start with the same few words, so the little referral key that the missal provides isn't as helpful as it used to be. And I'm Type A enough that I like to follow
right along. We'll get there.

I asked my mom how she liked it, and I wasn't surprised when she answered that she didn't like it. :) She grew up with the Latin Mass, and this change feels especially awkward to her since she'd prefer that the Church just go back to Latin. Now me, I actually don't love the old Latin Mass. I find it reverent and beautiful, certainly, and I'm so happy that it's offered so much more now for those that treasure it. But I have a hard time following along, and I don't feel as "included," if that makes any sense. To each his own. The new Mass feels more participatory to me, and I enjoy that. And I think the new translation feels more eloquent. I'm happy.

Now I have to remedy my very poor Advent candle situation. My taper holders are failing miserably and I'm trying to come up with an alternate solution, since I love my wreath. But the old holders actually broke my candles, and now I need new ones, and we couldn't light the first candle yesterday. NOT a very happy Catholic Librarian. I'm thinking of just procuring some votive holders and trying to find Advent votives. Feeling porky about the whole thing.

Anyway, how did everyone else like the new translation?

Shopping will abound

We're hosting our parents for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, so naturally I'll be doing lots of tornadoing around and obsessively cleaning and drinking wine. You know, the usual. I do love Thanksgiving. It's just such a warm and cozy kind of day. And I always take off the day after Thanksgiving. I usually lose my mind and meet my mom out to do a little shopping. I don't really need anything on Black Friday, but the experience (with a companion) can be kind of fun.

There is one place, however, that I will not go. And that is THE PLAZA. We have a shopping plaza near here that has grown exponentially in the past 5 years. Every time you turn around, a new popular store has been added into the configuration. Yet the parking lot remains the same size, kwim?

2 weeks ago, I left work early since I had some comp. time coming to me, so that I could run errands before heading home. So it was about 3 pm. And I wanted to stop at AC Moore to return something (Holiday Homespun yarn is gorgeous, but I cannot crochet with that stuff if you put a gun to my head; it's difficult to make anything when you literally cannot see the stitches you allegedly just made). As I neared THE PLAZA I noted the long traffic lines, but I figured things would clear by time I finished at AC Moore. Oh, silly, silly me.

I return the yarn, poke around for a bit (naturally) and then head to my car. It was just rainy and miserable and I was anxious to get home to Mike and my babies. I pull out of my parking space and toward the nearest exit. Oh dear. There appear to be about *30 cars* also trying to make left turns out of that exit as well. And I can see that the street onto which they hope to turn is also clogged up and the going is slow for those trying to add themselves into the line. I swivel and try the exit at the back, thinking I'll get to the back of that line of cars snaking toward the traffic light. Oh dear. The line of cars on the street snakes all the way past this exit as well, AND there are 20 additional cars trying to make lefts into it.

I say a bad word, and make my way toward yet a third exit out onto the main thoroughfare, accepting that it will simply take a few extra minutes to get out onto the street. There commences *20 minutes* of waiting in this line, since new cars are appearing at every nook and cranny trying to edge their way into the line, AND the cars out on the main road are all clogged up by non-synched red lights so maybe 2 cars are able to get out onto the road with every green light. I literally couldn't get out of that *insert bad word* parking lot.

I say another bad word. At one point, as I innocently drive straight in my line, a giant pickup truck appears from a side nook and tries to barrel through the line, nearly hitting me. I felt so shaken after that, I determined to go right home, instead of stopping off for my last errand. And I swore that I would NEVER GO TO THAT PLAZA AGAIN until after the holidays. And I mean it. I won't go back until January. I don't care how good a sale Target is having, I'd rather eat nails than go back there. They could give away free money for all I care. It's simply not worth it.

So therefore I'll be avoiding THAT PLAZA on Friday. But I'll probably end up meeting my mom at the crazy mall for lunch and a few stores. Because it's just not Black Friday for her unless we wait in line for 2 hours to eat at the Cheesecake Factory.

BUT. The really good news is that Knit Picks is having a Cyber Monday sale. OH.BABY. It starts at 9 am EST, so I'll have my tea at my work computer and will be obsessively reloading their page until the sale yarn comes up. Because I *need* more yarn, right? If it's on sale, it doesn't count. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

I'll be on a blogging break until aforementioned Cyber Monday, so have a wonderful Thanksgiving everyone!

What's new with Anne?

Anne is so cute these days it hurts just to look at her. Her new feats include:

(1) Raking. You know how babies do, with their fingers, to feel textures? It's adorable. Unfortunately, she disturbed my drying pile of freshly blocked hand knits the other day doing this, but she looked so proud of herself, how could I begrudge her?

(2) Crawling. Sigh, yes. She really gets around now. And where does she head first? That's right, the electronic equipment. Has this been bred in via evolution? It seems that every human baby, upon gaining mobility, will immediately set upon trying to stick their fingers in the DVD player and press buttons on the stereo. And the DVD cases, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY. These, and books. When set down on the floor, all babies will immediately take off for these destinations and thereupon delight in plucking the items off the low shelves and tossing them about gleefully.

(3) Separation anxiety. If you set her down and leave the room for a moment, an immediate bursting into tears can be heard. "Why did you leave me, you're gone!" The instant you reappear, a big smile comes up, along with a squeal. "You're back, I'm SO HAPPY!" It's precious.

When she woke up in her crib this morning, I couldn't wait to pick her up and kiss her face. That warm morning snuggle is always the absolute best, no? Unfortunately, she had managed to spring lose of one diaper fastener, so she had peed all over herself and her crib sheet, but no matter.

I just adore her so.

Feast of Christ the King

At Mass on Sunday, I realized that that would be the last time I ever heard the liturgy in the only translation I've ever known. I learned all the prayers and responses in the Mass when I made my first communion, back in second grade. I've had it memorized ever since. I have to admit that I am a tad anxious about things changing, about feeling like a "visitor" to the liturgy (sort of like when I once attended Mass in the extraordinary form :) ). Being a lifelong Catholic, that does have a disconcerting feel to it.

Our parish has been slowly incorporating in the new music, and I recently purchased a new missal that has all of the new responses in it. So I'll be well armed on the First Sunday of Advent. I guess I'm a tad excited too, to have something "fresh" in our liturgy, and I've been enjoying reading the articles in the newspaper about the coming changes. (we live in a very Catholic area; this actually is big news here. :) ).

So we'll see how it goes. I've been encouraged by what I've heard on my Catholic podcasts and other Catholic reading about the translation being a closer pairing with the original Latin, and closer to Scripture. Good stuff.

Wait, did I just see that?

Anne is going through a "phase" these days, which can be translated into "She's Stuffy and Miserable and Sleeps Like Garbage." Hence, in the wee hours of Saturday morning, she and I were downstairs trying to get comfortable on the couch. When she's stuffy, it seems to aid her when she can sleep inclined but still on her belly, so Mike and I take turns lying on the overstuffed arm of our sofa with her on our chest. I always put the tv on since the light seems to soothe her. And I almost always turn to the schlocky Christmas movies currently airing 24/7 on the Hallmark Channel.

On Saturday, I was trying to doze while Anne seemed determined to elbow me in the chest in her quest to get comfortable, so I wasn't exactly going off to dreamland as quickly as I'd been hoping. Suddenly, what I always hope for in the middle of the night happened:

I saw what has to be the funniest infomercial I've ever seen.

EVER. This is epic, people.

Because, you know. I've already seen infomerials for Pajama Jeans and the Eggie.

As I watch wide-eyed, with much incredulity, I see that there is a new product on the market called "Forever Lazy." It appears to be a giant fleece sleeper, minus the attached footies, for adults.

And as with all of these sorts of infomerials, we're first presented with these ridiculous scenarios in which people struggle mightily with everyday tasks that don't present much difficulty for regular folk. In this case, placing a blanket over your legs.

"Are you tired of wrestling with blankets to try and get warm?!"

Well, if my crocheted throw ever tries to "wrestle" with me, then yes, I will be deeply disturbed.

"If so, then Forever Lazy is just right for you!!"

We're then brought into the lives of our sleeper wearing friends as they study for exams with classmates, relax with their spouse on a cold winters night, even have cocktails with their neighbors out on the back deck, all while each of them wears this oversized fleece jumper with arms.

"you just zip yourself right into warmth, so that you can BE LAZY!"

Do we really want to encourage BEING LAZY as a characteristic so revered that we name clothes after it?

But WAIT. The best is yet to come. Given that our fleecey buddies are consuming so much liquid while wearing their Forever Lazies (by the time I later found this on You Tube to show Mike, we were HOWLING with laughter watching people *tailgate* in these things) the inevitable call of nature surfaces.

"Uh oh, gotta go? Forever Lazy has zippered hatches in both the front..."

Oh God, no. Please don't let them...

"...and the BACK!"

Oh.No.They.Didn't.

Yes.They.Did. THEY TOTALLY WENT THERE. This thing actually has...*hatches* for your, ah hem, private parts, so that you can use the facilities without having to take off your lazy suit. The guy in the commercial actually unzips his so that we can see the side of his underwear to demonstrate.

I mean, ok. Seriously. A butt hatch. Have we really sunk that low as a society? In which pulling down our pants is just too much work?

My eyes were open as wide as my mouth by the time the infomercial wrapped up.

"All yours for just $19.95! And if you call now, we'll throw in a companion pair of fleece footies!"

At first, when I later awoke, I thought maybe I had dreamt the whole thing. You Tube to the rescue. Nope, it's real.

Now, I'm all for wearing your pj's all day when you're sick or have a newborn, or have recently had surgery. Or maybe you just want to spend a Sunday morning relaxing with your coffee. I totally understand this. But if I ever answer the door because *I'm having a party* wearing a fleece one-piece suit with a drawstring hood, somebody please, for the love of all that is holy, just shoot me.

Because that would mean that I've officially given up on ever hoping to look attractive Ever.Again.

My baby is 6 months old today

She's crawling and into everything, including my knitting bag (future knitter?) She's drooling and biting on anything that she can get into her mouth. She's also *extremely* adorable and I'm so glad that we have her.

The other day I took out these "corner guards" that I had bought for our coffee table, given that Anne is now so mobile. Our coffee table is deadly. I mean, *we* hurt ourselves on it on a regular basis, and I didn't want Anne's delicate little head to be added to the list of casualties. What I learned though was that aforementioned corner guards are simply pointy pieces of foam that stick to the table with double sided tape.

"those are the corner guards?" I can tell already that my husband is dubious about the effectiveness of my new safety tool.

"yeah, she can't hit her head this way. I just wish they stuck better." *presses on them* "I mean, as long as she doesn't pull them off and try to put them in her mouth they should be fine."

"how can you possibly think that won't happen?"

*sighs* He's totally right, too.

Christmas knitting update

At one point I posted on here about how many Christmas gifts I hoped to knit or crochet this year, and how many I'd actually completed so far. I'm repressing the number, but it was fairly insane ambitious. I think it was about 20 items. I've actually finished a bunch of projects lately, so I thought I'd count up how many I have completed in total.

7. *sigh*

Gosh, it *seemed* like so many more! Being realistic, what I really want to complete are 6 more things. Well, even that seems ridiculous now that I look at it. I have 1 item on the needles and more than half completed at home. I have 2 pairs of socks on needles in my work knitting bag. Those things should certainly get done. Well, at least 1 of those pairs of socks will get done, and the item at home. After that, I really should be able to knit 1-2 additional items prior to Christmas. The other stuff will have to go for birthday gifts next year.

*frowns*

I don't like to not meet my goals, but I only have 2 hands I suppose. Perhaps I can outsource some of this knitting? I have a knitting group member without a current project that I may be able to bribe.

And I have a bunch of things queued up for myself that I'm *dying* to start in on, but I'm depriving myself until after my holiday knitting for others is done.

*martyr*

Oh well, I'll get to it eventually. Christmas is coming up with an almost disturbing rapidity. I really don't feel ready.

At one time, I actually thought I could get whole sweaters done before Christmas. HA! Only if I start in January for *next* Christmas.

And maybe not even then.

What happens when the baby is up multiple, multiple times per night?

(1) At 6:30 am, when we all need to get up, she will inevitably be sleeping.

(2) I will be cranky.

(3) Anne will be in a great mood.

(4) We'll all need to rush around more than usual to get ready.

(5) Inevitably, before I even have to rush out of the house, Anne's disposition will sour, and she will begin to sob.

(6) Anne will be down for a nap even before 8 am.

(7) I, on the other hand, will go to work and have a difficult time keeping my eyes open for any meeting that even borders on being boring. Which, you know, by definition is *most* meetings.

(8) Someone will likely ask me about Anne, and how she is sleeping. They will then tell me about how their baby slept through the night at some unfathomably early age, and I may fantasize about slapping them.

That's just the way some days go, I suppose...