Frenetic first day of classes...

Happy Tuesday everybody! Tuesday of the 21st week of Ordinary Time, to be exact. No saint on the liturgical calendar today (bummer), but today is the conclusion to the St. Monica novena, as her feast day is tomorrow! If you have any loved ones who have strayed from the faith, St. Monica is your go-to gal. Ask for her intercession. I have really enjoyed this novena, and currently have materials in my Fusion Beads cart to make her chaplet.

*beams*

But yesterday was the first day of classes here, so I thought I'd report in on that. It's pretty warm here this week, so the weather isn't exactly screaming FALL! But that's ok. There's always a wonderful sense of expectant energy on the first day of classes for the fall semester. In the life of this state university librarian, there are also parking snafus and panicked students at the reference desk.

I'll start with the parking, since I'm still feeling feisty about it. :0 I don't know why this has to be so complicated, but it is. We have a large student population here, nearly 30,000 (across 2 campuses, but still). There are also a lot of employees, as you might imagine. And yet, there are not enough parking spaces.

A few years ago, they did *a study*. A study about parking, because this is a university, and studies apparently make people feel productive. And the result, they tell us, is that there ARE enough parking spaces. Aforementioned parking spaces simply aren't where WE WANT THEM TO BE.

Now, ok. The Powers That Be *clearly* want us to now see the "error" of our ways, and agree with them that we shouldn't complain about parking anymore.

I don't *think so* MISTER SMARTY PANTS. Nobody wants to park several miles away and hike through the excessive wind that is omnipresent on this poorly constructed campus to get to work. Nor are we wild about the idea of parking far away and awaiting a shuttle in the winter time. In Buffalo. There is plenty of space on this ugly suburban sprawl of a college campus, and it seems to me that we could come up with a better solution much closer to the buildings that everyone wants to get to.

I'm just SAYING. But nobody has come and surveyed me, so there you have it.

So, yesterday I arrived on campus bright eyed and bushy tailed, only to get behind a truck that puttered along very slowly, perusing the full parking lots. There was lots of signage and parking people standing guard at each lot, trying to direct everyone. Said truck marooned me out in the road as he partially turned, blocking everyone, to talk to one of the parking people. I felt annoyed, but I know that my first day here I didn't know where to go either, so we'll give him a pass. When I finally got by him and up to the staff portion of that particular lot, there were about 6 spaces left. I nabbed one.

This morning, I arrived at the exact same time, feeling angelic at 8:30 am, and zoomed easily up to the staff lot, bypassing the anxious-looking parking people with ease. Except, *dun dun dunnnnnnnnn*. There were no parking spots.

:0

*long suffering sigh*

I parked in one of the student lots that was still close by and walked just a few minutes further, no big deal. But come 9-9:30 am, WATCH OUT! Misery will ensue. And swear words. Which reminds me, I'm leaving a tad early today to make it to confession.

;-)

So, parking behind me, we now have the entity that is the library reference desk during the first week of classes. My first shift of the week actually isn't until tomorrow (just can't wait) but I got a foretaste of things last Friday afternoon. The campus was already bustling from orientations and move-in day. After fielding several students who approached me with their syllabi, hoping that the library carried all of their textbooks for them to check out for the duration of the semester, and somehow ahead of the 249 classmates in their giant lecture courses (sigh), I hear a BOOP! on my chat reference interface.

"Hello. How can I help you?"

*halo*

"Hi! I'm working on a thesis project. I need to find stuff on 5 different deities from ancient Greek mythology, as well as..."

You get the idea. Not exactly a simple question answered easily via IM.

"Do you need find both books and articles? Have you found anything that you are using already?"

"Um, I do need both books and articles. In fact, a graduate school friend of mine gave me an article to use. But I'm not familiar with this Odyssey tool."

This happens a lot in chat reference. He has started speaking in some unfamiliar language with no explanation. :0 I don't know what on earth he's talking about, and elaboration isn't exactly forthcoming. I take a stab at it.

"Do you mean, "The Odyssey"? By Homer?"

That seemed plausible, given the subject matter.

"No."

*long pause as I await further details*

*none comes*

"Should I look at the library website?"

"Well, yes, we have... [insert explanation of our discovery service here]. But where do you see 'Odyssey' in reference to this article you have?"

"Oh. It says 'Odyssey' along the side. The person who gave it to me is from another college."

"Ah. I bet that is an interlibrary loan/delivery service of some kind, from another institution."

"Oh. That makes sense, I guess."

:0

[insert efficient and helpful completion of reference interaction by your resident Catholic Librarian]

:)

Good times. Anybody else have a first day of school for you or your little one yesterday? Leave me a comment!

Comfort and Joy

Last night when I got home from work, I was whipped. I was in good spirits, but absolutely exhausted. I was busy at work, since I'm going to be off all of next week...

...and before I go off on my home and family anecdotes, let me interject a quick librarian tale. When you're a reference librarian, you sit out at a desk in the middle of the library with an "information!" sign hanging above your head. Thus, you're a bit of a sitting duck for all sorts of interesting characters that happen into the building. I used to be more nervous about this when I was first starting out, but nowadays, I realize that this rarely happens (although annoying people are plentiful, scary ones are pretty rare) and so I don't sweat it anymore. But you're definitely putting yourself out there for some potentially awkward interactions.

And so yesterday. I was on the morning reference shift, and since exams are officially over for the fall semester, the library resembles a war torn region. It's quiet and eerily empty and stray trash abounds. And in comes this guy.

I remember This Guy. And so I immediately tense up.

"HELLO!"

"Yes, hello."

"GOOD MORNING!"

"To you as well."

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

*sighs* "Yes, Merry Christmas."

He beams at me and sits at a computer near the reference desk. Now, on the face of it, it looks like I'm being a real meanie, right? What is he doing wrong? Well, it's just that I like to think that as a woman I'm attuned to the people around me, and I hope it doesn't sound sexist, but particularly men. And I do not mean this in a romantic sense, but in a "protect myself" sense. It's not that I think that random men are hiding behind stray study cubicles just waiting to jump out and scare me, it's just a self preservation sense that I believe most women have. I tend to be overly naive and think that everyone is nice until proven otherwise, but I can spot a predator a mile away. And I have met several of them throughout my life. And This Guy isn't necessarily a predator, but there is definitely something off about the way he interacts with me. Well, mostly because the "interaction" is totally coerced. I know that I'm a librarian, I'm there to help people, and I'm sitting out there just waiting for someone to ask me a question. But my job is NOT to have personal conversations with you, especially if you are creepy. Unless you have a legitimate question, I'm not going to allow someone to make me uncomfortable. And that's what This Guy most certainly does.

So, I was sitting quietly at the desk, browsing some yarn online since no one needed my services for the moment, when suddenly, I see a movement out of the corner of my eye. This Guy is suddenly RIGHT.THERE. Over my shoulder, leaning down to my computer screen.

"OH, WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!"

That did it. I certainly did not care that he saw that I was looking at yarn. We're permitted to look at non-work related information on the desk if no one is asking us for help at that moment. But This Guy was violating my personal space in a big way. And he was being loud and drawing the attention of the few people that were actually in the library. And I did NOT want to get drawn in to a personal conversation with him. I shouldn't have to do things that make me uncomfortable, and I've learned this librarian lesson: when you have someone that is lacking in appropriate social skills and is actually causing you discomfort, you have to move out of your comfort zone and be a bit forceful to get your point across. Otherwise, they'll never go away.

"I'm sorry, but don't you have your own work to do?"

See? Now I was even more uncomfortable, because I hate, hate, hate being rude to people. But this was not a normal situation. Something is definitely amiss here with This Guy.

"Oh. Sorry. Sometimes I have a hard time separating the personal from the professional."

Maybe he isn't as clueless as I first thought. But as my tone intended, he stepped away and back to his computer. Shortly after that, he left the library. And I didn't feel the least bit bad. You just have to look out for yourself sometimes. I've found that that little instinctive voice in my head is usually right. "Angel Tiffany" or whatever.

So, after my long day, I headed home. Anne is usually very grumpy by that point, and Hank is hyper. He's thriving in his new school, by the way. The Catholic stuff he brings home is totally adorable (he got an 'A' in religion in the first quarter :) ) and he seems to be loving all the extra attention he gets in such a smaller school. We're really liking the school, and it's looking likely that we'll be registering him to stay there for second grade.

When I get home, I'll take Anne from Mike, since he's put in a long day with her. He unpacks my work stuff for me, and dinner is usually just about ready. I'll nurse Anne and chat with Hank for a few minutes, and then we'll eat. Anne is eating solids now too, and she's very demanding about them. She even likes the pureed vegetables, and puts away an entire oversized jar every night. I think she's ready to move up to 2 solid meals per day, actually. I'll feed her at her high chair while the rest of us eat.

Our evenings are SO much better with Mike at home with the kids during the day. We're absolutely loving our new situation. We have less money coming in, but to say that it is worth it is the understatement of the century. We all couldn't be happier.

But they're still exhausting in the sense that Anne is now at That Age. You really can't put her down unless you can sit right there and play with her. Because the instant you put her down, you'll see her little pink clad butt crawling away to get into something you don't want her into. Or, in the evenings, you have option #2, which is that she begins to scream hysterically when you put her down because she's tired, needy and miserable.

So, we had a lot of that last night, and we had to take turns holding her while simultaneously trying to fold laundry, clean up the kitchen, and get the wrapping supplies out. Once both children were in bed, we wrapped madly for 30 minutes and got nearly everything wrapped. I still have some hand knits to block tonight (WILL THIS CHRISTMAS KNITTING TORTURE EVER END?!") and a few last minute gifts to pick up tomorrow, and then we're DONE.

Finally, we settle in to watch The Queen with drinks and my new non-Christmas crochet project (THE FREEDOM!). About an hour in, we hear Anne. Oh sigh. The nights have been tough lately, and last night was no exception. I gave it a few minutes to see if she'd go back to sleep on her own (ha!) and then I went up. I was pooped anyway, so I told Mike to go ahead and enjoy the movie, and I'd get her back to sleep and get ready for bed.

When I got into her room, what was she doing? Was she sitting there howling, like I said she doesn't do anymore? Actually no. She was STANDING UP and HOWLING. Fan-tastic. She's so short the top of her head doesn't even reach the edge of the crib rail, which is pretty funny. And boy is she cute. But I'll just say it: teething is a pain in the absolute ass.

I nursed her and got her back to sleep. And then commenced I think 4 additional wakings (including one in which I had to take her downstairs to calm her down a bit) before "morning," which this morning, Anne demanded be at 5:30 am.

So, here it is, not even noon, and I'm already tired. But once again, I'm in good spirits. I've been saying some prayers for Mike, because he's exhausted, he has an exhausted and miserable Anne on his hands, and Henry gets out of school today at 11 am. So, he's having a long day. But we're hanging in there just fine.

This Christmas, I'm very grateful for my family. And for my friends, especially my knitting girls, who mean so very much to me. I hope that you all were able to read this entire post and get to this happy declaration of love at the end. :)

Life is good.

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.

Fun Times at the Reference desk,,,

I have been on the reference desk for 55 minutes. For the record, that's under an hour. In that time, I have had no less than a half dozen sweat-inducing interactions. The reference desk that I work at serves undergraduates generally, and science and engineering students. We had a desk consolidation some years back, and let's just say that it's been pretty painful for those of us lacking, well, science backgrounds. Librarians are trained to know what types of sources to look in even in fields in which they have no particular expertise. It's part of our duties as information specialists :) However, we're not miracle workers. Whenever I sit down at the reference desk, beam at an approaching student, and am greeted with a question that begins "I need to find a spectra..." My eyes glaze over and my mouth goes dry.

This particular reference hour has been filled with some doozies. Allow me to elaborate. The amusing one appears first.

(1) Clueless looking guy asking about the journal collection. "Hi, yeah, I was just upstairs? With the journals? Yeah, it says that they are, um, *non-circulating*, yeah, that's it. Non-circulating. What does that mean? I can't check them out, right? Oh, I can check them out for 2 hours? Great. But where could I then go to photocopy them for free?" The Catholic Librarian can do many things, but she cannot make a free photocopier materialize out of thin air. This was the easy one; it gets better.

(2) Introduction to Chemical Literature students are lurking in the reference collection. I hear them talking, looking over sources that appear to have been composed in a foreign language with no discernible index to making sense of anything. They keep glancing nervously at the reference desk. I'm fearing them. I'm really fearing them.

(3) Female student approaches with a tattered list of citations clutched in her hand. She actually encompasses 3 of the 6 aforementioned panic-causing interactions. She appears to be doing reseach for a faculty member, and the list states at the outset that "some of these citations may be incorrect or incomplete." Oh great, just make my day. One of the citations is for a journal title that is abbreviated, I KID YOU NOT, "J.D.E." What in the name of all that is holy does that stand for? The next citation is for a conference paper from some mathematics conference held in the 70's. Oh yes, all the librarians know where I'm going with this. It was one of those eeeeeevvvvvvviiiilllllll monographic series. And finally, we had the German-language mathematics journal. Oh, and let's not forget the citation to some mysterious sounding title that was "preprint." What? Pre-publication? In-press? A Worldcat and a Google (I was desperate, don't judge me) search turned up a big fat nothing aside from the very printout in the student's hot little hand. This source doesn't even *exist* yet and yet someone is citing it. Great, just great. The only good thing about the end of this interaction was that the chemistry students had left the area. I think it would have broken me to have dealt with them as well.

Favorite student quote...

of my evening reference shift last night. After spending ten minutes patiently explaining some of the material in a required library tutorial, my protege says:

"oh. I see now. I didn't read the directions."

Amen. This is the epitome of my existence as an academic librarian :)

Rushed, rushed, rushed...

It's a crazy day, so I don't have time to blog like I'd like to. Oh, the inconvenience of having a job :) But last night I was alone with Hank while Mike was in class, and I was exhausted by the time the evening was over. This is supposed to be my free time? Five minutes before Mike had to leave, as I was rushing to eat so that I could move on the myriad of chores I had to do, we suddenly realize that the house smells like a barnyard. Yes, Hank had pooed right into his Lightening McQueen underpants. And this after having sat on the potty a mere twenty minutes prior and me asking in the interim at least five times if he had to use the potty. Sigh.

After cleaning up the mess (toddler poo is like a whole 'nother entity onto itself), I jumped into the shower while Hank watched a cartoon. I'm furiously scrubbing my hair, hurrying, as Hank opens the shower door.

"Mommy, what you doing in there? Mommy, what's *that*?"

Here's where an R rating comes into play, so read on at your own peril.

"Honey, don't worry about that, it's just part of mommy's body. Why don't you go watch Spider Man until I'm done?"

"But Mommy, is that your penis? How come it has hai..."

"ok honey, please don't worry about it. Remember, mommies have different body parts, they don't have penises." (peni? Anyway, for whatever reason we have no difficulty telling Hank that he has a penis, but the word 'vagina' completely freaks me out).

"But Mommy..."

The evening continued with yet more fun from there. I went to bake my Amish Friendship Bread and realized that I didn't have the required pudding mix. A vicious stream of expletives ensues. With soaking wet hair, in my pink panda bear flannel pajamas, I bundled Hank up and ran to the convenience store. We get back and put the bread in the oven. I embark on laundry. I start the water in the tank and open the lid. A load of clothes is *already* in the washer, and they stink. Another expletive. See a trend here? I have to re-wash those first. When I later move those to the dryer, and put my original load in the washing machine, things really get interesting. It's about a full ten to fifteen minutes later, and I make an important realization: I forgot to put detergent into the washing machine. I run downstairs, Hank clinging to my leg the whole way, and find the clothes in the spin cycle. I won't write what I said, because it was BAD. I mean, BAD. I should go to confession just for this particular statement. I yank open the lid and force the cycle back. I swear it, the machine formed a little bubble over it's lid that said "dude, wtf?!" It was just one of *those* evenings.

This morning at work, I had a meeting at 9 am that can only be characterized as absolutely excruciating. I hurry back for my 10 am reference shift to find a student *waiting* at the reference desk for someone to arrive. As I helped her, *three* more people piled up, one of whom was a student with a paper due in two hours and needed help "finding topics." It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone.

"I feel old" moment of the weekend...

Chris takes out his portable CD player with speakers to try and entice a Pileated Woodpecker to humor us and show itself. He has a CD of relevant bird calls. (The woodpecker didn't end up taking the bait - he was probably watching us from a nearby tree, positively snorting with bemusement).One of his students looks at the CD player, absolutely befuddled, and asks "they still make those things?!" Oh man.

I remember the days of making mix tapes for your friends. So, when I was in high school, this meant dance mixes such as "Groove is in the Heart"and "Macarena." Good heavens.