2.29.08

ooh, Leap Year!

fiddy. i've read 10 books so far. i thought i was doing good, but i looked back and by this time last year i had 12 books read, and this year i had an extra day, so... there you go. oh hell, this being a leap year... does that mean we'll have to endure an Olympics this summer or winter?

*sigh* yes. yes it does.
stoopid, dumbhead olympics. my hatred for the olympics is only surpassed by my hatred of birds (all kinds), HBC, bees/wasps/flying-stinging insects, and the ineffectual USDA. i include my distrust of milk in with the USDA thing.

2.28.08

i've mentioned my conversation partner before, her name is Alice and she is from Russia. most of the time we can talk and never really run into a problem where we can't understand each other. she speaks english very well and she's pretty good at figuring out slang. she's really smart and probably the sweetest person on the planet. i tell you all that to say this: she was talking to some guy, an american, and he told her that he knew all about russian people because he saw a movie about russians. she says to me she says, "have you seen this movie about russian people?"

"i don't know. i can't think of any movie about russian people specifically. do you know the name of the movie?"

"yes, he says it is called Boris and Natasha."

"what?! he told you that? about that movie? i don't think he was being serious."

"i got the feeling he was making fun of me."

"he was probably joking around, but it's kinda rude what he was implying."

"so it's not a movie about russian people?"

"er, no. it's a silly movie."

"about russians?"

"well, no...it's, the main characters are from russia. and-"

"so you have seen this movie?"

"no, i never watched the movie. i did watch- okay, see the characters? from russia? see they were based on cartoon characters."

"what cartoon?"

"oh hell."

"what?"

"it's just, this isn't going to be pretty."

"but you will tell me?"

"sure. okay, on this cartoon, called Rocky and Bullwinkle, there were these russian characters, Boris and Natasha."

"those are very common russian names."

"yes, i know. it's part of the... humor. okay, now you HAVE to understand these are very old cartoons. they were popular during the Cold War. understand?"

she gives me a blank look like she's never even heard of this before.

i say, "at that time school kids, like my mom and dad, were taught that russia was going to blow them up and they would practice hiding from bombs at school."

she now has a shocked look on her face. i know. it is shocking.

"now come on, you have to have been taught something about this in school."

she tells me about her grandmother talking about shen she was young and that everything revolved around russia and that your country meant everything to you. but then they learned after Germany... that things changed. i don't exactly know what she's talking about.

"okay, so do we really have to talk about this cartoon?"

"yes, i want to know about this."

"well, these two characters were the... villians. on the show."

*gasp*

"boris was this short guy and natasha was very tall and skinny. and they would try to steal things? rob banks maybe? i don't remember anything specific."

"they were bad? always?"

"yeah but, it gets worse."

a pained look on her face, "how?"

"well, they always screwed up and got caught by Rocky and Bullwinkle and usually i think, boris would accidentally blow himself up. with one of those cartoony bombs. [you should've seen my charade of the cartoon bomb.] and see, Rocky and Bullwinkle? the good guys? one was a squirrel and one was a moose, and the moose, Bullwinkle, was a total idiot. so the fact that the russian spies would get caught by an idiot moose..."

"this is so terrible."

"ees always moose and squirrel."

"what?"

"nothing. it's a very OLD cartoon."

"did you watch this cartoon?"

"heh yeah. when i was a kid they would show it on saturday mornings. it was kind of clever cos a lot of the jokes were for adults but it was entertaining for kids because y'know... cartoon. but yeah, i always liked it cos it had a lot of puns in it. for instance, boris's last name was-"

"what? what was his last name?"

"oh, hell."

"what?"

"his name was Boris Badenov. see? how his last name sounds like 'bad enough'?"

"i want to see this."

"didn't you guys have cartoons that made fun of the U.S.?"

"no."

"oh come on. there had to be something."

"i can't think of any such cartoon."

"no satire on america? parody?"

"we have Tom and Jerry."

"that's... not what i meant."

"i want to see this movie."

"i'm telling you, it's a stupid movie. it's goofy."

recognition, "Goofy? it has Goofy?"

"no, not Goofy. by goofy i mean ridiculous."

"we will watch this movie."

"okay, if i can even find this movie, i'll get it and we'll watch it. but i'm telling you, it's stupid."

i never thought i'd have to have THAT conversation. she looked miserable. i kept explaining to her that it was old and of a different generation. she seemed to get that. i pointed out that our generation has a more global view on things. and she agreed. still, you could see on her face as i told her about boris and natasha that she was really hurt and even shocked. i felt like a total evil bitch having to explain all that.

"they were russian spies, but portrayed as idiots."

"gasp. but why?"

"because back then, americans were scared of russians and so they made them out to be fools so they could laugh at them. to release the tension. i guess."

"this is most terrible."

"it was a social commentary of the times. it's not like people think the same today."

"but you have seen this."

"yeah, everybody has seen it. it's Rocky and Bullwinkle. it wasn't as popular as Bugs Bunny or Mickey Mouse cartoons. but yeah, if you're my age and older, you've seen Rocky and Bullwinkle."

"i will see this."

"are you sure?"

"yes. i will see it."

"all right."

i talked to my little bro last night and told him about the conversation. he was all, "did you tell her about the old ninetendo game, Rush'n Attack?"

"what? no!"

"heh."

"that game sucked. if the russians so much as touched you you were dead."

"yeah. wait, you mean, that's not how it really works?"

"i dunno, maybe. i guess cold war is hell."

"ees moose and squirrel!"

"ees always moose and squirrel."

2.26.08

fiddy.

library news: oh! the new bookpage is here! the new bookpage is here!
pick up your copy of March's bookpage at the 'brary today! you book nerds.

joshilyn jackson has a new one coming out. as soon as we get it i'll let you know, kelly and laura. hee.

library story:
(i hope i haven't already told this one.) my pal, jan, and i are working the circ. desk. this patron comes up and asks how many books you can check out per card. i say, "the limit is ten."

she says excitedly, "oh! so he can check out as many as he wants!"

i pause and specifically i DO NOT look at jan. for i know if i even barely turn my head in jan's direction i will lose it, she will lose it, or both of us will lose it.

jan breaks in, "no, not exactly. if he wants ten books or less, then yes, he can check out as many as he wants."

i don't even think the lady paid any attention. she went off into the stacks with a happy yet vacant haze about her.

2.24.08

last night we were playing Trivial Pursuit and i kept getting words mixed up. by mixed up i mean i kept using the wrong words. i started out one question, "in what year did the Kentucky Space Center-" and mom immediately is all, "KENTUCKY! SPACE CENTER?! i don't think so." and we all laughed and made all kinds of jokes about my new Kentucky Space Center. it, uh, i guess you had to be there.
you also should've been there when instead of saying a "summit meeting with khrushchev..." i said "swimsuit meeting". which is like, TOTALLY different.

2.23.08

fiddy.

so. some of the fleegans and i went to see the Tut @ GMA exhibit. it was, in a word, helmet. i didn't expect them to have Tut, right? i didn't expect them to have much, okay? but i was expecting more than that, more then just replicas and toys. lame.

2.20.08

yesterday my internet was down. sorry.

Book Title of the Day: (i've been forgetting to do these)

Chicks and Salsa

it's a kid's book and on the front is a bunch of chickens and one of them is wearing a blanket and sombrero; it was really cute.

******

my Sweet Library Stories didn't last long. at the 'brary yesterday my pal jan and i rearranged about four sections of shelves to make the home improvement section easier for the patrons to paw through. i say paw through because that section is always trashed cos the books on landscaping and building and improving are tall and the shelves were short and so the books had to lay on their sides. you couldn't read the titles on the spines. and people apparently have no patience for that kind of thing. they would kill these books and then not EVEN try to set them back up. animals.
for the past two days we've had people come in and actually tear that section apart. i had books being shoved out the other side of the shelves. all of a sudden you'd see books fall off a shelf and it was because the impatient jerkhole on the other side was just shoving books around like some kind of half starved wolverine looking for a morsel of food. after two days in a row of cleaning up other people's mess, (and i'm talking about adults here. the kid's section is usually in a constant state of chaos, that's understandable. what's not understandable is grown adults acting like spoiled brats.
what actually sent me over the edge yesterday was this husband and wife coming in and destryoing that section. they're the ones who pushed the landscape books into the books on the other side of the shelf (the game/cards/sport section) making ALL the books fall into the floor and they were all mixed up like a non-fiction soup of doom. okay, so we can't have books on the floor because books+carpet=slippery as hell. so i go over there WHILE THE BOZOS ARE STILL SEARCHING FOR TREASURE AMONGST THE LANDSCAPE BOOKS. they're on the other side of the stack right? but i can totally see them because like i say, they've made a huge hole...there's no books on the shelf. and they are laughing. i say to them, "hey, can you guys take it easy over there?" and they keep laughing, but they don't acknowledge me at all. and they continue to tear it up. then they pick out whatever home improvement for 'tards book they deem worthy and laugh their way to the circulation desk. as they check out they laugh but never do they say they're sorry for being complete wastes of society or for making a huge mess. these are adults. it kills me how i'm still shocked at the public sometimes.
anyway, the part that made me glad i don't own a gun because i'd pro'ly use it, was when they were making a mess RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME the female waste of oxygen says to the dickless jubilee about the mess, "it's okay, we're just giving them something to do." then back with the laughing.

needless to say, that flew all over me. i'd love to go to her work and destroy a desk or shit on the floor or spill a 2 liter co-cola (say, have you noticed how i tend to have these scatological revenge senarios? how primative of me.), you know, to give her something to do.

NOW HEAR THIS: let's say you're at the library and you, being a normal person and not a wild animal, happen to accidentally kill a shelf of books (they fall over, fall off, slide away, whatev). these things happen. sometimes the book holder on the shelf is wonky, sometimes the holder doesn't work at all because it's very old, for whatever reason the shelf you were at is destroyed. this is not a moment of shame. this is an everyday occurrence. the way to handle this situation is to either

A. put the books back. or
B. if you don't know how the books go back on the shelf (especially if it's non-fiction and the numbers and letters seem daunting... and they can be.) find a library worker and say something like, "dude, i destroyed a shelf on accident, i'm sorry." (or if it's that embarassing to you, and no one saw you destroy it you can always tell the library worker that, "hey i was over there and apparently someone killed a shelf, just thought you should know.")

but whatever you do, DON'T be a spoiled douchebag and destroy a shelf and be all, "oh i'm just giving them some work to do." cos guess what? i'm petty and cruel. and i'll remember you forever, and you'll never get ANY library mercy. and trust me, you want library mercy. you treat me like a servant who's only job is to clean up after your lazy ass and i become a brick wall. see, what will happen is, you'll need me for something. you'll come in and you won't be able to find something, you'll come in with your kid and need help researching a topic, you'll come in and need help on the computer, you'll come in and have a fine on your card but no change but you really need to check out this one book and could you pay that fine next time?, you'll come in and you'll need me. oh yes, you'll need me. and i? well, i'll be too busy for you. which is a shame, cos i could have totally helped you.

i should say though, for every rude slob that comes in there's 200 awesome patrons who we bend over backwards for. seriously. and i love helping people find books either to read or for research. it's like finding clues in a mystery or something. (i am nerd) but i don't like being treated like i'm someone's personal janitor. and rude people piss me off.

whew, thanks for letting me vent (full moon and all that). sorry it went on forever.

2.19.08

today a patron at the 'brary told me that i was so sweet and that she likes how i'm always smiling.

really? heh, i've got her fooled, huh?

not really. i do smile A LOT at the library. i greet the people all smiling and polite cos that's the way my mama raised me. i notice though that i smile way too much. not at the 'brary, but like, at the store and out in public. i'm constantly making eye-contact and nodding and smiling a, "hi, hello." like i know EVERYONE. when in fact, i don't. and i'm sure people are all, "do i know her?" "is she one of those really cheerful 'never met a stranger' weirdos?" "is she stalking me?"
no, no, and no.

but sometimes i catch myself and i get giggly remembering will ferrel in elf all, "smiling's my favorite!" plus, i want our 'brary to be awesome. i don't want people to think it's a stuffy ol 'brary. so i'm all cheery cheerson, until that is, you're rude to me or one of my co-workers. then not so much with the cheerful help. and if you're a repeat offender? you don't even know.

but that lady was so nice and it made my day that she thought i was sweet. see? i get to be around people like her every day. i'm always telling bad stories on here, so i wanted to share an awesome story with you.

2.17.08

i am reading a book and the book mentions a popular song of old called "John Brown's Body". it's some kind of U.S. Civil War song or something. i don't know much about Am.His., yo. but the whole john brown thing sounded vaguely familiar.

i remember having to sing a song in grade school about john brown but the lyrics were different than the ones in the book. the song i had to learn was about john brown's baby who had a "cold upon his chest". and i remember it was to the tune of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic". and there were hand motions and you would leave out some of the words and do the motions instead. so of course now i'm really curious... are the songs about the same john brown?

i'm not sure. here's the wiki entry on the john brown song. it looks like the whole thing is kinda iffy. the lyrics for the "kid friendly" version of the song (the one i learned) go a little sumpin' like this:

John Brown's baby had a cold upon his chest
John Brown's baby had a cold upon his chest
John Brown's baby had a cold upon his chest
And they rubbed it with camphorated oil.

yeah i know. but i always felt bad for the baby cos when we were sick as kids my ma used to rub muster oil on our chests, and if camphorated oil is anything like it, well, poor john brown's baby is all i'm saying. (that muster oil was some evil shite. and it's interesting to me that i can't find a single thing about that stuff on the internet, now i KNOW that my mom wasn't the only one who used that evil glop as a poultice for coughs, right? seriously, i can't find it. how is that possible? it was this opaquey-clear goop that came out of a green tube. SOMEBODY PLEASE FIND THIS.)

anyway, this all seems really weird now. i think i'll ask some of the ladies at work about it tomorrow because two-thirds of the chicas i work with are retired elementary school teachers. maybe they'll remember the song.

i know we had to learn other songs, not just ones about sick babies. there was "Oh When the Saints Go Marching In", "My Country 'Tis of Thee", the "Grand Ol' Flag" song, "Dixie" of course, and "Clementine" which, was/is one of the most depressing songs you can teach a kid. i mean, she drowns for crying outs. what's worse is the part i remember goes: ruby lips above the water/blowing bubbles soft and fine/but, alas, i was no swimmer/so i lost clementine.
i know.

for real though, i could have something useful in my brain, but no, instead i've got lyrics to psycho kid songs. what songs do you remember from school? hit the forum!

2.16.08

here it is:
several months ago i'm hangin' with laura and she's changing one of ben's naps and he makes a go for his naughty bits. so she says, "he's discovered his generals." and we laughed because generals/genitals... it's just funny is all. right, so, forget all that because it's months later and i've not thought a bit about 'generals'.
i'm working at the 'brary putting away a stack of books, right? and i look at the one i'm shelving and it's Lincoln and His Generals. i lost it...complete whackadoo gaffawing. but lucky for me (sometimes? sometimes i really do luck out.) no one was around. cos i'd hate to have been caught laughing out loud while holding a book about the civil war.

2.15.08

fiddy

ohh, i've been sitting on some news for 3 weeks now and i can FINALLY tell you guys ALL about it. My house downtown SOLD.
BOOYAH! TATDOW!

it sold! it's over! i've only one house now! only one power bill! one water bill! one gas bill! i was so excited that i called a couple of people to be all, "YAY! IT'S OVER! I LOVE THE WORLD!" and then i drove to the 'brary, went in and "woooo!"-ed and played air guitar and danced around like a nutter.

let's back up a moment to three weeks ago. my real estate agent called and said, "jaimie, i sold your house."

"really?"

"yeah baby, it's gonna go through. all you have to do is get the deck and fence fixed from when the car crashed into it. how's the insurance thing going?"

"it's not. are you sure they're going to buy it?"

"yes! we close on march 1st. so get that fence and deck fixed, and the door needs to be replaced."

"right on!"

so i talk with the insurance of doom again and no dice. so screw it and i ask dad to fix it (he had been meaning to fix it for ages, but you know how it goes. plus it's been cold out.)and he says sure and since we had four weeks till closing there was no big deal. but then dad took a job (like, a real one) where he has to work from 7am - 3pm for two months. so now i'm all, "dad, when will you have time to fix that stuff? it's impossible! we're all gonna die!" and he's all, "will you relax? it'll get done."

right, so, the next week the estate agent calls and says, "okay so, everything is going smooth and the buyer accepted your counter-offer and all we need is the inspection which is wednesday and a wood report which is next week."

"okay, sounds good."

"well everything is going so smoothly that we've decided to move the closing date to next week."

"what. what?! can you do that?"

"sure."

"but the deck and fence-"

"well, just get them fixed by friday."

okay sure, because the fix-it fairy will just come down and fix everything for me and leave the receipt under my pillow?

the next day dad and mr. fleegan go and fix EVERYTHING. it only took them half a day to fix it all. THEY ARE MASTERS. i even had K-ris on standby in case they needed extra hands. that's how cool my pals are. i called laura the day before, "shit. what are you guys doing tomorrow? shit. what i mean is, shit, is kris busy tomorrow? shitter shit. because dad and jimmy might need extra hands for the deck job. shit!" and they were so sweet to be all, "call us if you need us." because really, they had their hands full what with selling their duplexes and all.

i didn't want to get too excited about anything or even mention this good news until the closing was over because sometimes you hear about deals that don't go through right up until closing. and i did not want to jinx this deal. when people asked me how the house deal was going i'd tell them and they'd be all, "great! aren't you excited?" and i'd say, "yeah, but i'm not going to cheer about it till the papers are signed." and they thought i was being a Debbie Downer, and maybe i was (i'd say "cautiously optimistic"), but i don't care. cos now? now i can cheer! it's over!

i took my check to the bank and deposited it and the teller was all, "hi how are you?" and i was all, "i'm fine, how are- SOLD MY HOUSE TODAY. WOOOO!" and she laughed and seemed excited for me. and then, like i said, i made some calls and i drove to the 'brary and wooted and air guitared and promptly left.

THEN i went to the Humane Society (Roxy needs a pal) to see if they had any big, old dogs for adoption and all they had was puppies and dachsunds and chihuahuas. i nearly caved and adopted the CUTEST hound puppy named Hobo. he is so cute he melted my face off (starringnicholascageandjohntravolta), but i was strong. i really don't have time for a puppy. and besides i'd like to adopt an older dog because lots of times people overlook old dogs because they want cute puppy dogs. i'm certain that Hobo will be adopted soon.

i spent about an hour yesterday morning on petfinder.com trying to find a pal for Rox and i thought i finally hit pay dirt. there's an old gordon setter named Woody and it said he was in atlanta. i thought that sure, i'd go to atlanta to adopt a dog. i'd rather do it locally, but there you go. i click to read about ol' Woody and he's really in michigan! well, fuckit, i'm not going to michigan for a dog. so we're still looking for a pal for the Roxinator.

but more importantly: HOUSE! SOLD!
and it only took 3 months. that's not bad, folks. that's AMAZING.

2.14.08

happy valentine's day, you guys.

fiddy.

************************

WORD TO MY KNITTAHS: check out this amazing video animation made with KNITTED PANELS. I KNOW. it's incredible!

2.12.08

somehow i've been found out!
the names have been changed to protect... my job.
hee.

i get to work today and my boss is all, "i didn't know you knew Very Nice Lady from the Mayor's Office."

and i say, "who?"

"Very Nice Lady. she said you told her a hilarious story."

"me?"

"YES."

"okay, now who are we talking about here?"

"Very Nice Lady! in the Mayor's Office!"

"oh. well, yeah. i know her. sorta. mom, i think, knows her. mom knows everybody."

"well, did you tell her a funny work story?"

"no. i haven't seen Very Nice Lady in months. since the last time she checked out a book while i was working."

my boss is puzzled. and so am i. then she says, "so you didn't tell her a funny story about a patron telling you she was going to cheat on a test or something?"

oh. my. god.

ABORT! ABORT! ABORT!

"oh. uh. yeah. the cheater..." i know all the blood drained from my head. i couldn't think straight. all i could think was 'how was i found out? oh man, i'm dead. or worse... dooced. the mayor's office? oh god, have i slandered anyone lately? damn, and i really love this job, too.' and my boss is all, "so you DID tell her a story?"

"i... well, i... wrote a story. about the cheater... and um, Very Nice Lady told you about it?"

"she told me that what you said was hilarious. how come i didn't know about this funny story?"

"oh. it happened after you left one day."

"well?"

"well, what had happened was... this patron came in and told me she was going to cheat and so i was shocked because, she um, was going to cheat and then when she checked out her books i called her a cheater and then she left."

"that's the story?"

"er, yeah well, the long version is hilarious. gosh it sure looks busy out there, huh? i better get back to the circulation desk and earn my wage!"

*************************************

Dear Very Nice Lady,

Gosh, you look nice today. Is that a new blouse? Well, it looks great on you.
Wow and your office is always so nice a cozy. You sure do work hard. I hope the Mayor appreciates all of your hard work. Well, have a great day, okay?

Sincerely,
Jaimie

PS. *GASP* PLEASE DON'T RAT ME OUT.

**************************************

IN OTHER NEWS: the insurance company (of the dude who crashed into my property) denied the claim. they said it wasn't his fault. oh, and like it was my fault that my property was damaged when HE crashed HIS car into it? so i won't get any money to repair the damage. i could take it to court, i guess. but who has time and money for that?
i hate insurance people. the evil insurance company is Safeway, by the way. in case you ever want to NOT get insurance from evil, unhelpful, robbing liars. apparently, i'm not the only person they've screwed over. it makes me want to vomit. in a manilla envelope. and mail it to them.
weekly.

2.10.08

i watched a smidge of the grammy awards tonight with my mom and dad. it's extra sad now because it used to just be mom and dad saying, "who is that? what song is that? i've never even heard of these people!" and now it's the three of us all, "who is that? i hate rap. that song is shit. i've never even heard of these people!"
oh! but complete bonus! i just happened to be watching when alla sudden... TINA EFFIN' TURNER comes out and sings! i tell you what, God often blesses me with Tina Turner. AND, best of all, in her tiny medley of songs... she played my favorite! (shut up, you, with the exasperated, "jaimie, they're ALL your favorite.") "Better be Good to Me" is my favorite! i don't care what i'm doing, when that song comes on i am *captured* (hee.) (that is only funny to me, sorry. unless you are a Tina nerd too? no? dang, i thought we had a moment there.) and must sing along with Tina. emphatically. (WHYCANCHOOBEE... good to me?)
now, you may think that that song has the worst use of cowbell in it, and you might be right. also, you might think that that is the *worst video ever, and yes, you might be right. wait, no. you are actually wrong. there's no such thing as bad cowbell or bad Tina.

i will admit that Tina (at the grammys) looked kinda funny in an over-botoxed kind of way. her head seemed huge, but damn, she can STILL wear a shiny catsuit and dance around in high heels. which made me nervous cos i know she's nearly 70 years old. 70! how many 70 year olds you know can dance to "Proud Mary" in heels? NONE. that's how many.

*okay, yes. the video is horrible, but honestly, most videos in 1984 sucked. so let's not act like it was just Tina's video that's lame and confusing what with the strange white guy with the mullet coming out of nowhere and dancing with Tina onstage.

TINA IS AWESOME AND I LOVE HER. SHE'S MY HERO.

but also, my love for Tina makes me sad. because i'm christian and she's buddhist. and well, i don't even want to talk about it. i mean the thought? of being in heaven? and there's no Tina? i can't deal with that right now. that's almost like saying there's no awesomeness in heaven. it's incomprehensible. is it possible that when the Lord comes out on stage, in heaven, that He's NOT rocking "Simply the Best" out of his divine ghettoblaster?
this is why i can't talk about religion on here. because sometimes, when i try to think about heaven, sometimes, it doesn't sound like a place where i want to go. especially if i gotta hear P.O.D. and NOT Tina Turner.
i figure once you get to heaven, and everything is perfect there, that you're not a music snob anymore, and you probably aren't really thinking about Tina Turner anyway, so there's that, i suppose. but right now, my human brain hates to think about no Tina in heaven.

oh it's just me? i'm the only one who's thought of this?

cookie?

anyone?

2.08.08

fiddy.

2.07.08

may i nerd out here for a moment? i think that working at the 'brary has turned me into a square old crone. okay, more of a square old crone.

there's a girl who comes in once or twice a week and she's in high school and she reads TONS of shitty werewolf/fantasy/vampire/junk, but she's always nice and we always talk about books or whatever and then she leaves and i always feel like, "yeah jaimie, you've still got it. you can still talk to high school kids, you haven't become an old dork yet."

well. she came in a couple of days ago and she was all attitude! she had a brand new tattoo on her back. it's a really great tat, but also, high school kid here. there's not one damn thing i loved in high school that i still love today. well, besides mr. fleegan. (aw. see, i can be sweet) but i say nothing to her about regretful tattoos or ANYthing lame like that. i just said, "nice tat." and she says, " *sigh* NO it DIDN'T hurt and YES you can touch it."

well, one, i didn't ask, and two, i'd never touch someone's tattoo! especially not a new one! that would be like touching an open sore. gag. so i figured she must be hormonal or a pissy werewolf or something. so i was all, "okay, have a good one." and walked away, but then she needed help on the computer. "can you show me how to get this thing to make columns?"

she was using microsloth word and so i was all, "yeah, you just click the-" but she was already in columns. so i asked, "do you need more than two columns per page?"

"no." she said in that teenage way.

"then you're all set, it's already set to columns."

"no it isn't."

"um, but... it is."

"then WHY isn't it working?"

"because you haven't typed anything yet." and i held down the number 4 on the number pad and watched as a column of 4s filled the screen.

"oh."

"yeah."

"i'm making a cheat sheet."

so now we're friends again? i can't remember the last time i heard someone say "cheat sheet". i didn't know what to say so i just said, "no kidding?" (i say, "really?" and "no kidding?" a lot. oh, and awesome. i say awesome too much.

"yeah. i have a test tomorrow."

and here's me, the ultimo-goober completely shocked that someone would cheat on a test, "wha- wait, you're going to cheat?"

"yes."

"you're going to cheat? on a test?!"

"ye-es," she says. but it's not just yes, like, affirmative. but it's more of that teen-girl yes which is more like, "yes, GAH, I SWEAR YOU ARE RETARDED leave me alone why am i so misunderstood? I HATE YOU!"

so i leave to go back to the circ. desk and i get there and jan, my 'brary mate is there and i'm all, "you won't believe this! THAT GIRL TOLD ME SHE WAS GOING TO CHEAT! i'm so dorky i had to ask her TWICE. and twice she said she was going to CHEAT."

"what?"

"ON A TEST!"

"what?"

"ON PURPOSE. she's going to cheat!"

"she told you this?"

"i know!" see, i knew i could trust jan because she, like me, is a huge nerd. and neither of us would ever cheat on anything. not because we think it's wrong (BUT IT IS WRONG), it's much nerdier than that, it's that we know if you cheat at something you're only cheating yourself.

did you read that last thing i wrote?! "if you cheat at something you're only cheating yourself." seriously?! when did i lose my cool?! who says that kind of junk?! "you're only cheating yourself." rrrrrrgh! when did i become this...this moralistic fortune cookie thinker person?! i am so lame.

so where was i? oh yeah, jan was all, "she told you she's going to cheat?"

"yeah. isn't that horrible?"

"on a test? for school?"

"i'm right there with you."

"i can't believe she told you."

"one the one hand, i don't actually care if she cheats. but on the other hand, i'll never look at her the same again. i really like her, she's a reader, you know? not many high school kids come in here for fun, right? but i mean, a cheater?"

"heh, let's call her school."

"hee! we can't do that."

"i know."

"when she comes up to check out i'm going to shame her."

"what kind of cheater tells people she's going to cheat?"

"a cry for help?"

"yeah, and you helped her cheat."

"it was just columns! and she already had it in columns! she just didn't know...because her brain is filled with cheating."

so a few minutes later angst-teen girl comes up to check out her stack of fantasy books. jan scans the books and is putting the date stickers on them. i walk up, point at the girl, and loudly stage whisper, "CHEEEEEEEATER! CHEEEEEATER! CHEEEEEATER!"

the girl, who has no sense of humor about this, gives me a death stare from the inner-most circle of the 4th realm of Teenage Wasteland (it's only teenage wasteland) and she walks out. as soon as the door closes jan loses it, "i can't believe you just did that!"

"i thought she would've at least cracked a smile."

"i CANNOT believe you just CALLED HER A CHEATER! TO HER FACE."

"she told me she was going to cheat."

"to her face!"

"she should've at LEAST owned it. i mean, you tell someone you're gonna cheat, then they call you on it, the very least you can do is own it."

"she was NOT amused."

"for real. did you see that death stare? she probably put some kind of spell on me."

jan is laughing her ass off, i mean, with tears, "i can't believe you did that. that was so funny! TO HER FACE!"

and the rest of the day we'd crack ourselves up by whispering, "cheater!" over and over. and really, i think a year ago if some kid told me they were cheating on a test i'd have been all, "why the hell you tellin' me?" but now, maybe it's the job, maybe it's that i'm 30 years old and some kind of switch flips and alla sudden you're a dork, but now i'm all, GASP. "cheating?! how very dare you!"
what gives?

2.06.08

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE ONE AND ONLY TAMI SPARKS

also, it's Waitangi Day in New Zealand. i once took a class on the history of the British Commonwealth of Nations. ha, and you think we're imperialistic bastards. not only will the british invade your country, they'll take every bit of your art and treasure, and they'll even dig up your mummified dead from their sacred places of rest and fill their museums with them. and make no apology for it hundreds of years later. on the other hand, if you're a huge fan of Egyptology (and who isn't?), who's to say we would even know one fourth of what we know had it not been for the british (and french, mind) stealing away Egypt's national treasures. piracy in the name of the crown back then = college degrees today.

speaking of, the Gadsden Museum of Art has some kind of new exhibit called Tut @ GMA. a lady came to the library yesterday and set up a display in one of our display cases with some pictures and junk from the gift shop. seriously. that's what the lady said she said, "be sure to tell people that they can buy most of this stuff from our gift shop." the coolest thing in there is a "make your own papyrus kit" the rest of the "gifts" are pretty much junk and probably overpriced (boy, i'm in a mood today, huh?) like a giant ink pen with hieroglyphs on it, which would be awesome, except the glyphs look bad. and there were two different plastic sarcophagi with tiny plastic mummies inside. which, at first i wasn't impressed with, but then later on i wished i had one so that after i lost it i could find it again and be all, "after months of searching, jaimie finally stumbled across the sarcophagus. it had been buried on her desk underneath a pile of CDs and used index cards and random doodles."

so. anyway. GMA. i think i'm going to go to this exhibit. because i love all things mummy. however, i'm not fooled, GMA. you cannot fool a fooler! i noticed IMMEDIATELY that there is no actual mention of actually having the ol' Tutmeister himself. now, if i get there and you actually have actual junk from Tut's tomb but not the Tutster, I'll forgive, because i'm not an idiot, and i know they don't loan out Tut all willy-nilly to just any old place.

BUT. if i get there, and it's really an exhibit on Howard Carter and it's only his shit they've got stashed in acrylic boxes, and there's no real Egypt stuff, and it's his dumb old compass and digging tools, and it's just maps and journals (ooh, i love maps though), and like, his lucky hat or whatnot, then i'm calling shenanigans.

wow. what's it like being friends with a bitchy nerd?

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