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Library scuttlebutt and other miscellaneous doings
I overheard a woman at the library recently say that she only reads books about cats who solve mysteries. Now, it seems to me that this is a highly restrictive genre, but after all, I suppose, who am I to object?
Also, apparently, while I was recuperating I just missed a giant kerfuffle at the library over closing procedures. My Fluffy-Headed Boss sent out pointed memos to all the pages, with extra copies to three of my usual closing crew, saying that things had been left a terrible mess on Wednesday night with, like, a sheet of paper left on a table in the back or something, and would people please try to do better? I would take this as further proof of my semi-serious thesis that the library cannot, in point of fact, function whilst I am away, except that I know all three people in question perfectly. Oh well.
Corrine worked her last day in my absence as well, having unfortunately left a week early due to the even more unfortunate untimely death of her cousin. Working at the library just won't be as fun.
I also found a book that had been mislabeled (and hence misshelved). Sadly, it was a copy of Armageddon shelved under LAYHAYE instead of LAHAYE, so rather than feeling triumphant, I just feel vaguely dirty.
We are presently enjoying impossibly, jaw-droppingly gorgeous weather here courtesy of Hurricane Charly, who did his part in sucking a bunch of cold air down from Canada for us. I suppose that thanks are in order for the Canadians, and vaguely apologetic looks for the Floridians. ;) Glad you're all okay.
My mom and dad are currently fighting over who gets to read the copy of The Obesity Myth now that I've finished it. (My dad has it right now. I pacified my mom with a copy of Eats, Shoots and Leaves.)
Other than that, things are pretty quiet here. While my dad was in D.C., my mom tore the house apart to paint her closet and the laundry room (everything else in the house having been painted at least twice) and apply noxious polyurethane to the kitchen cabinets, but that's all more or less back to normal now. We still don't have hardware on the cabinets, but at least we can get into the kitchen.
Oh, my dad had yet another Friday the 13th birthday yesterday. I made him a chocolate cake and there was a big fireworks display at the golf course nearby for no evident reason, and not only was last night's episode of Monk the funniest one I think I've ever seen, but my dad managed to solve the mystery of how the contestant was cheating before the end, which made him very happy.
Edit: Athens pretty. Want to be in Athens.
Edit again: Male gymnasts pretty. Want male gymnasts.
Edit III: Ironically, watching the Olympic coverage is preventing me from actually going for a walk.
Also, apparently, while I was recuperating I just missed a giant kerfuffle at the library over closing procedures. My Fluffy-Headed Boss sent out pointed memos to all the pages, with extra copies to three of my usual closing crew, saying that things had been left a terrible mess on Wednesday night with, like, a sheet of paper left on a table in the back or something, and would people please try to do better? I would take this as further proof of my semi-serious thesis that the library cannot, in point of fact, function whilst I am away, except that I know all three people in question perfectly. Oh well.
Corrine worked her last day in my absence as well, having unfortunately left a week early due to the even more unfortunate untimely death of her cousin. Working at the library just won't be as fun.
I also found a book that had been mislabeled (and hence misshelved). Sadly, it was a copy of Armageddon shelved under LAYHAYE instead of LAHAYE, so rather than feeling triumphant, I just feel vaguely dirty.
We are presently enjoying impossibly, jaw-droppingly gorgeous weather here courtesy of Hurricane Charly, who did his part in sucking a bunch of cold air down from Canada for us. I suppose that thanks are in order for the Canadians, and vaguely apologetic looks for the Floridians. ;) Glad you're all okay.
My mom and dad are currently fighting over who gets to read the copy of The Obesity Myth now that I've finished it. (My dad has it right now. I pacified my mom with a copy of Eats, Shoots and Leaves.)
Other than that, things are pretty quiet here. While my dad was in D.C., my mom tore the house apart to paint her closet and the laundry room (everything else in the house having been painted at least twice) and apply noxious polyurethane to the kitchen cabinets, but that's all more or less back to normal now. We still don't have hardware on the cabinets, but at least we can get into the kitchen.
Oh, my dad had yet another Friday the 13th birthday yesterday. I made him a chocolate cake and there was a big fireworks display at the golf course nearby for no evident reason, and not only was last night's episode of Monk the funniest one I think I've ever seen, but my dad managed to solve the mystery of how the contestant was cheating before the end, which made him very happy.
Edit: Athens pretty. Want to be in Athens.
Edit again: Male gymnasts pretty. Want male gymnasts.
Edit III: Ironically, watching the Olympic coverage is preventing me from actually going for a walk.
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As for the hurricane, my in-laws apparently thought we were getting hit by it (but we're about 150 miles inland) so they called us all panicked, but I think they'll be getting hit by its remnants tomorrow.
My Athens is probably less pretty than the Athens on TV, but I couldn't say, having not seen much of one or any of the other.
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I read one of the Cat Who books when I was trapped in a cabin in Minnesota with a fairly extensive selection of paperback books not chosen by me. (On this same trip, I read The Rainmaker by John Grisham and a bunch of movie reviews by Roger Ebert.) They started out moderately promisingly. The protagonist worked for a newspaper in a city and each mystery was tied to whatever story he was assigned to, like the time he wrote for the real estate page and got involved in some kind of robbery thing, and he flirted with girls and stuff. Formulaic, yes, but not actually offensive.
Then Qwilleran (God help me, that is his name) went up to this quaint little Michigan town called Pick Ax and inherited a fortune and started a philanthropic foundation and basically controlled the entire county and converted an apple barn into a quirky luxurious residence and started writing a really boring column and got a grandmotherly platonic girlfriend named Polly who apparently he plans to date until the end of time without actually getting married because that would be a significant plot point and we can't have any of those now can we and all the mysteries revolve around some kind of huge psycho event that he stages and all the stupid reoccurring colorful characters participate in, like the cheese festival. I am so not even shitting you.
You can perhaps imagine why I stopped reading these books. The only question is why I got as far as the 19th (!) one.
Oh yeah, in the first book, one of the cats can read (backwards). He never utilizes this ability again.
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In regards to your
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wow!
They are so my Olympian boyfriends. This is how it went whenever either of them were onscreen:
Meghan: *drools*
Meghan's mom: Are they married? I wonder if they're married.
Meghan: *wipes drool off of computer* No, apparently not.
Meghan's mom: Oh. Well, they should be.
Meghan: You know, they are only two years older than I am.
Meghan's mom: I guess I just can't tell anyone's age anymore.
Meghan: *returns to her regularly scheduled drooling*
Hee. That is so cool. I'll tell her tomorrow. ;)
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Yeah, they graduated the year after I did and I'm 22. You're all a bunch of young'uns. ;)
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Random Person Alert
And Edit II made me laugh lots.
Bye.
male gymnasts
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I have to admit, the last time I had a chance to watch much in the way of men's gymnastics, I didn't have much in the way of hormones going on. That was 1996. ;)
*Not that being gay is a bad thing, but being insulting, homophobic and stereotypical is. I expect anyone reading this knows what I mean, but still.