Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Spring Chicken
Oooh lookie it's all
Spring chicken. Everything smells nice and is breeding. The birds are tweeting and flying around, oblivious that tweeting rights aren't exclusively theirs; ducks are waddling, moorhens are meep-ing, people are making the grass strange colours.
Then I reach The Library. And the students haven't gone home. Why haven't you gone home students? Why? You should be in a fort of hot cross buns by now.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Monday Monday (ba da, ba da da daa)
Hows about a little treat seeing as it's a Monday?
I'm not sure if she's fondling or checking for lumps.
Still, gutted I didn't take a picture of the spine - it has her boobage so squashed together they look like an eye. Strangely uplifting.
I'm not sure if she's fondling or checking for lumps.
Still, gutted I didn't take a picture of the spine - it has her boobage so squashed together they look like an eye. Strangely uplifting.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Of Mice and...
Of course, that's not all that happened this week. There was also an academic with a seriously good sense of humour:
And enough fun and bananagrams that I didn't really mind that I was, you know, working most of the time.
Some of the time.
...
A bit.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Gnu
I literally did nothing interesting today but still had a great day courtesy of Cadbury's creme egg, Gnus and the general +awesomeness of everyone I work with.The only -awesome was that no one would believe gnu is a real word. But I'm a forgiving person.
I also have a gold phone, which is totally irrelevant but GOLD PHONE.Actually not completely irrelevant as the picture quality on this blog is about to take a huge step up. A whole 5megapixels up. Now who says I don't spoil you?
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Trolley of Doom
O look
The Daily Mail is finding new ways to piss me off.
Normally its the content rather than the quantity that gets me, but the damn stuff's heavy and its just my luck that I'll end up being killed by a falling box of Daily Mail. Probably to be found later with homophobic, racist crap all over my face. And maybe a picture of a kid named after a forest fruit.
Normally its the content rather than the quantity that gets me, but the damn stuff's heavy and its just my luck that I'll end up being killed by a falling box of Daily Mail. Probably to be found later with homophobic, racist crap all over my face. And maybe a picture of a kid named after a forest fruit.
Monday, March 21, 2011
I'm Here for my Logical Consequences, Sir.
I feel that this child should not be at waist height...
In a book on disciplining children as well. I really hope it's not what it looks like but, well, the caption is: 'I'm here for my logical consequences,' so I'm forced to concede that it is.
In other news, I hit my head on a bookshelf and spent most of the day in a daze with a headache that sort of travelled all around my skull and made me feel like bits of me were falling off. Which leads me on to exhibit #2
In a book on disciplining children as well. I really hope it's not what it looks like but, well, the caption is: 'I'm here for my logical consequences,' so I'm forced to concede that it is.
In other news, I hit my head on a bookshelf and spent most of the day in a daze with a headache that sort of travelled all around my skull and made me feel like bits of me were falling off. Which leads me on to exhibit #2
Friday, March 18, 2011
Trichobezoar, Noddy and Friends
It's time to come clean and admit that most of the excitement in my life currently revolves around a game called Bananagrams. This would nary be the case except,
My co-workers are very wordy people. And I love new words, even if I have the attention span of a sesame seed. Trichobezoar, incidentally, is a word its nice to know but bad to know anything about.
If you're curious:
http://newyorkmedicaljournal.org/1/Archives/Parekh/5%20Trichobezoar%20specimen.jpg
But sometimes it's not a good idea to know these things. Case in point:
Mm. Better not.
My co-workers are very wordy people. And I love new words, even if I have the attention span of a sesame seed. Trichobezoar, incidentally, is a word its nice to know but bad to know anything about.
If you're curious:
http://newyorkmedicaljournal.org/1/Archives/Parekh/5%20Trichobezoar%20specimen.jpg
But sometimes it's not a good idea to know these things. Case in point:
Mm. Better not.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
You Either Love It Or...
Now, I'm normally part of the fan club, but there's something about this
Marmite prolapse that is frankly disturbing.
This experience set me off with a less than wahey start to the day, which was then followed by a colossal amount of perodical dust making my black jeans orange and my hands FILTHY. I was so tired I was starting to have an imagination, and I visualised the fetchers using journal dust as a sort of warpaint. Like the Lost Boys, only in a library, which would be infinitely less hassle.
I also had an Epic Tower Fetch, which resulted in no book, but a much better aquaintance with the various departments the book could have been in.
Oh, and I've no idea what this means
But it terrifies me.
This experience set me off with a less than wahey start to the day, which was then followed by a colossal amount of perodical dust making my black jeans orange and my hands FILTHY. I was so tired I was starting to have an imagination, and I visualised the fetchers using journal dust as a sort of warpaint. Like the Lost Boys, only in a library, which would be infinitely less hassle.
I also had an Epic Tower Fetch, which resulted in no book, but a much better aquaintance with the various departments the book could have been in.
Oh, and I've no idea what this means
Monday, March 14, 2011
Saturday, March 12, 2011
O Captain My Captain
Sometimes I come across books that are strangely appropriate. Fetching a book beside this one
I saw the title (Knee Deep in Blazing Snow) and thought it looked interesting. On closer inspection, it is poetry (yay) about growing up in Vermont (yay!) Considering I miss VT a lot since last summer, it was just the ticket.
Or, earlier in the day, in a box of pamphlets,
was a sweet, understated publication of Whitman's O Captain My Captain, a poem I have been mulling over recently after re-watching Dead Poets Society. I really, really like the sentiment. It is especially appropriate for the film to have the kids spout it just as Mr Keating is leaving. The end of an era; the death of Lincoln, the resignation of a teacher. Parallels.
And Dead Poets Society is set at a fictional school in, guess where?
Vermont.
I saw the title (Knee Deep in Blazing Snow) and thought it looked interesting. On closer inspection, it is poetry (yay) about growing up in Vermont (yay!) Considering I miss VT a lot since last summer, it was just the ticket.
Or, earlier in the day, in a box of pamphlets,
was a sweet, understated publication of Whitman's O Captain My Captain, a poem I have been mulling over recently after re-watching Dead Poets Society. I really, really like the sentiment. It is especially appropriate for the film to have the kids spout it just as Mr Keating is leaving. The end of an era; the death of Lincoln, the resignation of a teacher. Parallels.
And Dead Poets Society is set at a fictional school in, guess where?
Vermont.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
How Vulgar
You know those times you're getting really tired on a Thursday afternoon, and you go to SC and get a book and see this
Mmhm. I think we've all been there.
To quote Dylan Moran: 'naked from the waist down, to emphasise their nakidity.'
Day looked up since then.
Mmhm. I think we've all been there.
To quote Dylan Moran: 'naked from the waist down, to emphasise their nakidity.'
Day looked up since then.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Halp
Today has been a day of generalised fear (not just localised, oh no.)
First, I went up to the Tower where I could not open the door back into the elevator... BREATHE. Then I walked down a few floors for the next couple of books, at which point I was confronted in the pitch darkness with an ancient clock that sounded far scarier than a clock. I managed to get the light on and find the books, then called the elevator down, opened the room door, and was about to open the elevator door when a man, previously completely silent, opened it from inside. I pretty much gave myself a hernia.
Later, I had to collect these books:
First, I went up to the Tower where I could not open the door back into the elevator... BREATHE. Then I walked down a few floors for the next couple of books, at which point I was confronted in the pitch darkness with an ancient clock that sounded far scarier than a clock. I managed to get the light on and find the books, then called the elevator down, opened the room door, and was about to open the elevator door when a man, previously completely silent, opened it from inside. I pretty much gave myself a hernia.
Later, I had to collect these books:
Friday, March 4, 2011
Milne's Head
In North Court, there's a bust of Milne that I find soothing. I like to touch his cold, bald head as a little ritual when I go in. Only I'm worried one day it will become a habit and I'll start getting twitchy when I can't do it. Like this man who cannot live without the man-who's-in-the-habit-hitting Umbrella Story.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
The Trolley Song
Our fetcher trollies are in no way as cool as the Book Movers'; some of them look like they're off an episode of pimp my trolley. It's all stickers, posters, awning, old aphorisms... Perhaps they get more of an attachment to their trollies through all that work they do side by side, but my trollies certainly have no love for me. Today I filled one so full of old periodical it made sad noises and fell over sideways.
*No awning, actually, it's just a great word.
*No awning, actually, it's just a great word.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
The Curse of the Last Periodical
No, it's not a disappointing 8th Harry Potter, it's a true story. Every day, the last periodical I get has something wrong with it. Sometimes it's in Russian.
I don't have an aptitude for languages- frankly, I'm frightened enough about English. So this situation, with a whole other alphabet, is not one of my favourite things.
Unlike bright copper kettles, which I find fascinating.
I don't have an aptitude for languages- frankly, I'm frightened enough about English. So this situation, with a whole other alphabet, is not one of my favourite things.
Unlike bright copper kettles, which I find fascinating.
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