the golden annointment of sheer disappointment

Oh! Hi, half-abandoned LiveJournal! What's goin' on? I sort of missed you, so I'm going to write an update and then not touch you for half a year again.

Probably the only thing that's really changed is that I have a Master's Degree now. But that doesn't mean much. Libraries only want to hire people with awesome skills, and pretty much all I have is the potential to be awesome. A part-time job and interesting coursework amounts to a hill of beans in the real world. Beans! I've applied for six full-time library jobs so far and am getting used to being ignored and passed over.

So I'm down but not out. I'm trying to have enough faith to realize that things will happen when they're supposed to; failure only means I need to work on myself more. Newfound optimistic attitude? At least I sort of have that going for me now. If I've learned anything these past few months, it's that despair is meaningless. And, at least for me, being sad just feels like so much WORK. And I'm a lazy, lazy person.

I haven't yet mastered this, and I probably never will, but there's something exhilarating about abandoning your expectations and just being.

I still spend more time talking and thinking than actually doing. That bothers me. But at least I care enough to be bothered.

So, things I'm thinkin' but not doin' yet:

Getting a tattoo. I have two ideas floating around in my head. Both are pieces of poems, one by e.e. cummings, the other by G.K. Chesterton.

Taking a dance class. I've done my research, and there are quite a few places in Chicagoland that offer classes for adults! I'm leaning toward tap.

Moving to New York. A large part of me is weary of Chicago. For five seconds, I thought, "You have enough money to go right now. Go. Don't worry about a job, you'll find one. You wanted
a challenge, a kick in the arse -- this is it. And if it doesn't work out you come home." heh. This is a big one. I'm going to have to work up to it, I think.

Soooo. Anyway. Thanks, LJ! I'll be back in another six months to dump some more crazy on you!

(I still do read my friends page, by the way. I just never comment... I'm the creepy lurker now, apparently)

Let me tell you, internets, back in my day foreign phrase books weren't full of such smut! Land's alive! What's the world coming to?

Anyway, today I had to laugh because I was processing some phrase books that looked "respectable" enough (Frommer's). I started flipping through the French one, thinking it would be useful if I ever go to visit Karen. Okay, how to hail a taxi, how to order in a restaurant, blahblahblah. Eventually I found myself in a section called, "Getting Intimate." Here, I learned how to say, "Do you have a condom?" "I have a condom right here." and "Harder! Faster! Deeper!" Good to know, I guess! And very appealing to my 5th-grade sense of humor.

This was posted in the libraryschool community and seriously made me LOL.



<gradschool>

heh.

Usually I'm pretty good at the art of denial, but yesterday it struck me that someday soon I'm going to have to start paying off my student loans. I laughed and laughed! And then I fell into a pit of despair.

Despite my impending financial ruin, I can't wait to get out of Chicagoland for a little while. I'm seriously thinking about going back to DC for a few days in the spring. It wouldn't be that expensive to stay just for a weekend and it'd be worth it anyway. Especially since everything I want to see is free! I was really too rushed when I visited last and didn't get to experience the city the way I'd wanted to. Or, Plan B, I have a friend in Boston who I'd love to visit. Really, though, I'm open to pretty much anywhere. Where should I go that won't cost an arm and a leg? I need ideas!

Well, back to homework. I'm working on a question about carpet-balls.

I hate when people say to me, "You look tired!" Either I really am tired, in which case, thanks for noticing my dreadful appearance! And commenting on it out loud! Or I'm actually feeling wide-awake and pretty good but not anymore! Because if even after a good night's sleep you still think I look tragic, well... way to destroy my self-esteem! You jerk.

I'm so devious that even I don't know what my real intentions are. It's funny!

I'm taking another reference class right now and this is one of the questions I need to answer for my assignment this week. "Who was Kholumolumo? What did it do?" As I discovered, Kholumolumo is an African (Bantu) mythological "monster cannibal that eats everybody and everything." I think I'd make a pretty crappy reference librarian, but some of these hypothetical questions are making me rethink things. I mean, if I got to answer questions about monster cannibals every day that'd be neat! But I have a feeling 90% of my time would be spent telling people where the bathroom is instead.

For those of you in and around Chicagoland... I will be in the Loop (the Flaxman Library, near Madison and Wabash, to be more specific) this Thursday for a class. Where can I go to have an absolutely fabulous, yet affordable lunch? Bonus points if it's at least somewhat off the beaten path (as much as is possible for downtown Chicago, anyway). Anyone, anyone?

Ohhh, there is nothing more fun and depressing (not necessarily a contradiction in terms) than rereading old LJ entries... both mine and my friends'. Fun because I'm reminded of why I love certain people, depressing because I can't help but feel I was a lot more interesting back in 2001! I mean, honestly! When did I reach the zenith (or nadir?) of dullness? It had to have been sometime in my college-graduate-but-shamefully-unemployed-whatintheworldamIgonnadonow phase. What happened? :O I guess the real world happened. Whatever, it's pretty horrifying!

So far, the month of September has been nothing but a horror show, but I no longer want to get into all the reasons why this is so. Suffice it to say, I still kind of just want to run away from home. Who's with me?

At the very least I'm seriously considering buying a new iPod to console myself with. What do you think? Y/y?

I finally saw Juno; I know, I'm the last person in America to do so. It was cute, I guess. I dunno, it didn't blow my mind or anything! The music was lovely, though. It reminded me again of why I love Kimya Dawson.

I'm still trying to figure out how to drive our new used car. It has a car alarm (whyyy?), that I've accidentally set off more than once. I mean, if I try to use the key to open the door (it came with one of those magic, automatic engine-starting, door-unlocking electric doohickeys), the ^%&( alarm sounds! Even though the doohickey unlocks the door for me, I want to be able to open the door by myself. It's a matter of principle. All the windows are automatic, so I'm waiting for the day when they break and I'll no longer be able to feel the wind in my hair. The stereo has more buttons and settings than I've ever seen in my life, and I still haven't figured how to set the correct time. However, it's the nicest looking car I've ever driven, it runs perfectly, and it was a steal, so I'll overlook all the minor annoyances.

Train tickets have been purchased (Chicago --> Washington D.C. --> New York City) and hotels have been booked. I'm trying to silence that part of my brain that keeps saying, "it's a bad idea to spend money on a vacation. Bad idea." But honestly, I never let myself have fun and who wants to live that way?

The best part about my new position at the library is that I no longer have to make chit-chat with the local sex offender, nor must I be discomfited by the leering of our other, equally seedy male patrons. Huzzah!

I finally gave myself permission to spend some money on something fun, but now I've no idea what to buy. I guess it's a good thing that I don't WANT very much, but just the other day I was crabbing about how I have so many expenses and when is life supposed to get fun and blahblahblah. So I said, "okay! Go have fun!" But I don't know how to :( I mean, my default "fun purchases" are either coffee/tea/books. And I have enough of those things already to last me for quite some time. So, I dunno!

Oh yes. The ever-present America's Next Top Model marathon on MTV. Of course I'm watching this cycle for the 1365th time. Damn you for stealing my life, Tyra Banks.

My final "website" for LIS 753 is...(not) coming along. I thought it would be easier to slop together four pages of HTML, but it turns out I'm painfully slow at it. Five hours of work, and what do I have to show for it? Not that much. It probably would have helped, had I had a clear idea of what I wanted to do before I dove into the project. As it stands, I'm about 1/4 finished, and STILL don't really have a full grasp of my overall concept. All I know is that it has something to do with tea. Vaguely. Um. Er.

the land's opening up like a blanket,
and the dandelions spread themselves thickly out
along the fields, which are, evidently, endless;
and we are hotly in love with one another.
we've got an unquenchable thirst in our throats.
we are, for some reason, all the time, bleeding,
and we are friendless.

and we love these dogs that roll on the lawns here in galesburg --
because they seem to know something nobody else knows.
it is written in the smiles on their faces,
and it rings in their high young voices
we are burning up all of our choices up here
where the tall grass grows, up here in galesburg.
- mountain goats

I'm tired of thinking about metadata and FRBR and other library things. I'd rather think about trains and crêpes and birds. And going to Galesburg.

Every time I go to Mitsuwa, I desperately want to sample some of the many prepackaged noodle/soup bowls, until I look at how much sodium is in one serving and promptly lose my appetite. Normally I don't pay too much attention to stuff like that, but when a bowl of soup has 120% of my suggested sodium intake, I can't help but think that bowl of soup will, in all likelihood, kill me. What's a girl to do? Should I stick to my guns or just eat the damn soup? bah! It probably wouldn't leave me any unhealthier than I already am. I live on grains. Bread, pasta, and cereal make up about 90% of what I eat. Hello, iron deficiency anemia!

I know I said this LJ was dead and I made a pretty good dramatic exit and all, but you know what? I changed my mind, like I do about everything. Eh, what are you gonna do? Besides, I missed youuuuu. I did!

This weekend I had to record a psuedo-podcast for one of my classes. Everybody who listens to a recording of themselves for the first time always asks, "do I really sound like that?" So I was prepared for the worst, but wow. I surprised even myself. I sound like a six-year-old. Who's either high or drunk, or some combination thereof. Who was also born overseas (I can't pinpoint the country of origin, but obviously English isn't my first language. I finally understand why people ask what kind of accent I have). And who may or may not be deaf.

Fo' real, suckas. It was comically horrific! A++!

But you know what makes me feel better? Hasidic hip-hop.

I'm beginning to think the best way to write a killer resume/cover letter is to just get really good and drunk beforehand.

I have to remind myself, from time to time, that my particular problems and pain are not unique, and so I shouldn't be bothered by them so much. There are millions of people out there feeling the same or worse; why should I think I'm so special, that my "suffering" is so important? It's nothing but an ego trip, really.

In case you couldn't tell, this is me, giving myself a slap upside the head and snarling, "hey, snap out of it! And get over yourself!" Prompted by another silly, "woe is me" post that I deleted three minutes after posting it. I mean, I won't deny that my natural state is pretty much...a state of melancholy. And I rather like that about myself. But there's a difference between that and despair. Despair is what I constantly need to fight against. It's a trap, and I won't fall for it.

Anywho! Yeah. Probably didn't need to say any of that. Moving on. A question for you guys about cover letters. Cover letters are my stumbling block; I always come off sounding stilted and boring because I want to be "right." My obession with being "right" keeps me from being myself. How do you balance proper cover letter protocol (if there is such a thing) with just being honest and letting your personality shine through?

Sometimes I wonder just what, exactly, I'm trying to save money for. The tiny sums I'm able to put away each paycheck hardly seem worth it sometimes. And it takes all my energy not to just take it all, run out and do something FUN. Because, really, I don't have much fun anymore. Yet, my scrimping has become something of an unhealthy compulsion. Do I really want to enjoy a nice lunch out when there's perfectly good instant oatmeal in the cupboard?! Do I really want to buy myself some new clothes, when the same stuff I've been wearing for the past 3 YEARS is holding up just fine? It's gotten to the point where I'm refusing to treat myself to ANYTHING. I think part of me just enjoys suffering, and I don't know why that is. I do have a bit of a martyr complex going on, I'll give you that (I learned it from my mum...she's my mirror, for good or bad). But I mean... what exactly do I gain from being so hard on myself?

I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not, in fact, Jewish :/

Having said that, Shana Tova, y'all.

!