To be loved, be lovable. - Ovid

Today I helped a patron who was either homeless and insane or eccentric and brilliant or perhaps a combination of the above. He wanted to read an article referred to in the local newspaper and so came to me, working in reference, to trace a copy of the original article. It was in a journal called Neuron and was written about the genetic modifications to enable the erasing of fearful memories in mice. The writing was sophisticated and used quite a few terms that would have been foreign to me, but for my undergrad degree in psychology and the smattering of neuroscience classes I had taken. He was pleased with the result but only copied down a couple of the authors (the most Americanized of the list of Chinese names) and one of the two research institutes involved. He then wanted contact information for a person living in Iowa. His eyes were very lucid, he didn’t seem to be out of his mind, but he had a very strong odor and his hair and beard were matted together. He was, however, very polite and provided me with an interesting challenge during my work day. I also had a woman called who needed a review for Uris’ QB VII, a book published in 1970 and in the New York Times Book Review that year. Fortunately, we had microfilm for the publication she sought BUT she called at 5:15 and her book club met at 6:00. People can be strange.

I also learned that two librarians had been shot and killed in 1993 by a patron, at the very desk where I was working today. I am intrigued by that, in the same vein of interest that always compelled me to seek out the prostitutes working out of my last library or any other seemingly incongruent events occurring in libraries. I quite like my new home and the library district in which I work but it isn’t much different from the one I left. The city is, a complete opposite really, but the library is essentially the same. This is something I observed after reading books like Quiet, Please or Free for All, nonfiction essays on library work and patrons, but I can affirm that it is indeed true. Good thing I love the library.

So what have I been doing in my new home? Exploring, mostly. I attended a fabulous double roller derby bout and both times the home team dominated the visitors. I bought myself a logo-ed tote (to carry my library books) and a 2009 derby girls pin-up calendar. I spent a morning at a gigantic farmers’ market under the freeway and bought loads of fresh produce, cheeses, breads, honey, lavender sachets. I went to the Laundromat with cartoons painted on the walls and spent a pleasant afternoon huffing dryer fresh fumes and reading American Wife. There was a girl there folding her laundry and I found myself transfixed by the stretch of her back that showed above her tank top. I couldn’t stop imagining running my nose from the spot between her shoulder blades up her spine to the back of her neck. She had a gorgeously rounded belly and was cute in an ordinary sort of way but for some reason, whenever she turned her back to me, I was paralyzed with delight. I’ve also spent time just walking aimlessly around downtown to see what I uncover and I ended up finding an incredible salon filled with charming and adorable women who offered cupcakes, tours of the facility, and a great new haircut. I have never enjoyed getting my hair done quite so much. Today, after work, I found a comix store that had a recent delivery of some of my favorites like Peter Bagge, R Crumb, Ivan Brunetti, and Milk & Cheese (which reminds me very much of high school, “Let’s booze up and riot!”). Someone on the street gave me a “No on Prop 8” sticker, which I happily affixed to my handbag. I’ve found tons of fun little art galleries, fire dancers and belly dancers, a lesbian-owned sex toy/novelty shop, the list goes on and on.

My neighborhood is the only drawback I’ve had so far. The house I’m renting is cute, the cats love to stare out the security doors and pass judgment on everything happening outside but my neighbors are LOUD. I share a fence with the Hell’s Angels but they’ve so far been silent. Across the street is another story. Fighting, swearing, yelling, partying, music so loud it rattles my walls, throwing things at one another – it is constant. I’m exhausted with listening; I have no idea how they keep it up. But sometimes it is the flaw that makes the design all the more beautiful and I think that’s true here too. Now I’d like to meet a lovely high-femme girl (who loves to read) to spend some time with me. Fingers crossed, onward . . .

“with its marvelous pinkness . . .” – Tom Robbins

I have successfully completed my move to Northern CA. This is no small feat, I assure you. Some highlights:

* being convinced I had poisoned Ginsberg when he started drooling foamy ropes of spit. My mom was in hysterics, I was upset. Until about 5 hours later, when it was actually really funny
* over 9 hours of driving a VW Beetle with 2 crying cats
* meeting the neighborhood crazy/jailbird when my mother invited him into the new house
* being asked for $5, then called "honky bitch", by aforementioned crazy
* overhearing numerous choice tidbits from the people across the street, including my favorite, "Who do I look like, Kunta Kinte?"
* music from lingering cars so loud it rattles my walls
* the ice cream truck that plays a rap. About ice cream. And samples the traditional ice cream truck song
* discovering I share a fence with the local Hell's Angels compound. Hello, back neighbors!
* watching the kitties enjoy the blue jays through the security doors
* moving through the circuit of my new house and realizing all the space is mine, I don't have to share anything!
* reading. All day. Until I start my job on Tuesday.
* being in a new place is always terrifying and magical
* rising from my own ashes, much like the Phoenix tattoo on my chest

I am very pleased to have this new space to myself. I will post pictures soon but right now I am trying to get everything unpacked in time for the wedding I have to attend this weekend. My best beloved Sam is getting married and I will get to see R Batty for the first time in nearly a year! Bravo for good friends.

Each body has its art... - Gwendolyn Brooks

It is a fragrant day at the library.

Perfect day for a scarf. I love scarves for many reasons, they keep me warm, they add interest to an outfit, I have a long neck and they look good on me, but working in the public library add one more very important reason to the list. Air filter. Many library patrons have less than ideal standards of personal hygiene, as evidenced by my last blog post where there is an "odor" rule. I find that when helping people with their own auras of flower-wilting, nose-curling intensity, having a scarf that is scented with my own perfume that I can pull across my nose and mouth is nearly a requirement. Today has been a day of powerful bodily odors and complete Internet illiteracy, an almost crippling combination for the librarian who is helping them. Who is, of course, me.

Last night was lovely though. Jane and I went downtown for our last First Friday art walk together and I was finally able to buy a piece. Bravo! Just a little painting to bring with me to my new home which I hopefully be able to put an address to in a few days. We had horchata at the Mexican restaurant that is also our tradition and just generally enjoyed ourselves.

But now I am at work, hiding my face in my pink and gold Indian scarf and stomping around in my cowboy boots. I'm my own "Cowboys and Indians" performance art piece!
The body says what words cannot. - Martha Graham

I don't care what is written about me so long as it isn't true. - Dorothy Parker

I take back all the nasty things I thought about reference. It is actually completely hilarious. On Saturday, I had a woman call from Florida because it was 3 in the afternoon here and her libraries were already closed but she knew we'd be open. She had a question about a street in Akron, OH. A woman with throat cancer called to find a date for her "beautiful niece, really gorgeous, she's sixty but looks forty and I want to find her a man while she's here. Or a woman. Whatever. She's beautiful though, I'm not just saying that because she's my niece". Who calls the reference desk to find a date???

I had a patron insult me because I was "too young to help, you don't look like you know anything" but an (older) coworker backed me and said that I actually knew more than she did about the topic the woman was asking for. The patron was really bitchy though and very funny.

A woman called because her husband had just died and the memorial was coming up and she had seen a praying mantis and what did that mean? Granted there are the tedious investment questions interspersed but it is mostly a cavalcade of amusing inquiries and I find I will quite miss it. After only a week or two!

However, people are so unrelentingly full of shit! A guy wanted a temporary pass for the computer, then handed me an expired out-of-state id. When I told him that wouldn't work he gave me a different state id. I asked how long he was staying and he said he just moved here. I told him he needed to get a library card then, and he said he was just visiting. I looked him up in III (our computer system ) and found a card with the same name/birthdate. I told him he had a card and he said no, that must be my brother, yeah. I asked if his brother had the same name and birthday and he ignored that and asked if he could get a new card. Librarians are NOT stupid. We have degrees and a significant amount of higher education. Do not lie repeatedly to our faces.

There are heroic occasions as well. One of men who works in the computer center here was on a break outside when he heard a woman scream and found himself chasing a purse-snatcher. He got the purse back. Bravo! But then we have our regular hooker and her pimp, a man she claims not to know when questioned, yet they always show up and leave together. Hmm . . . Zelda asked for a copy of our library rules of conduct to incorporate into her stand-up act since she finds the "emanating an odor that can be detected from six feet away" as grounds for ejection too good to resist. It might be funny if it weren't a necessary modifier.

But I will soon be leaving all of this behind. Sort of. I am looking forward with mingled pleasure and apprehension to a weekend in Sacramento with my little sister, staying here and looking for a more permanent domicile. Wish me luck, the kitties and I need a new home!

A library is an arsenal of liberty. - Unknown