I am ruined

My favourite problem-solving archivist for the web archiving service I worked with the last four months just liked one of my tweets (about the company, not like I did something awesome to catch his attention).

I knew who that guy was. I got genuinely excited about it. I also said I have a preferred archivist. What the fuck has school done to me?

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Perspective

Me going to Morocco, a foreign country, where I speak little, poor French and do not have wifi or cellular service: Challenge accepted, I’mma be fine. 

Me going to a US govt building in CA, where I live and we all speak English, but I can’t bring my cell phone so I can’t track my bus route there/back or keep an eye on the time: THE WORLD IS ENDING I CANNOT BELIEVE THEY’RE MAKING ME DO THIS OMG WHO NEEDS A PASSPORT ANYWAY?!

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New Cohort

I alluded to my displeasure with the new degree courses, and I was right: 35 minutes into the first class I wanted to drink Canadian Club neat, which is something I would never sanely want to do. Despite how much I hate group work and everything that some of my classes entail, I do think it will be a good challenge for me.

Also, there are some interesting folk in the mix. Fairly legit. doppelgängers.  There is a very similar long-haired version of Matthew Gray Gubler, a Warren Beatty (if he’d aged as-is in this photo with the same face and greying hair)*, and a Max from GREEK. Not even the actor, straight up Max with his smarts, awkward ways, and forced laugh. His wife reads my kinds of books so I already approve, and I desperately want to know if she looks like Casey, but I will refrain from further inquiry until we’ve known each other more than five hours.

There are six other men. This is a significant number of dudes. This has never happened in my adult life: Magazines, sorority, English, library shit… these are not exactly the place to befriend (or more) the men. Neither is this class, but after my last cohort, the mix in this crew is much appreciated.

An embarrassing fact about all this is that Max, me, and another guy who looks like he’s on rumspringa all wore green plaid shirts to class. And sat by each other. 😳

 

*Hot for TeAcher.

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First Day of Library School

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Clearly fated.

Today is my first day specifically toward my library studies degree. Lord save me from this uber politically correct, huggy place. I came in early to photograph a text book, and I already kind of hate it.

Hustle pays, though: I got so much scholarship for the year they are paying me $99 and 4 cents.

 

 

 

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Real Life Movie Character

I don’t know jack about Lemony Snicket stuff: I’ve never read the Series of Unfortunate Events books or seen an adaptation. Only just now did I learn that Lemony Snicket was the author’s (pen) name and not the main character played by Jim Carrey and Neil Patrick Harris. But I did know what Count Olaf (that’s the JC/NPH character) looks like, and I encountered the Kiwi equivalent on my latest adventure.

 

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so long, farewell

I am leaving the US of A for the first time without a planned return.

Quick, someone invite me for a visit! Or better yet, start planning to come see me, because my current passport/permit situation is a little tenuous and has me Van-locked for a few months. I can promise mediocre hostessing, excellent doughnuts, mountains, and bus passes. And if you ask nicely… a nude beach.

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Damnit, Linda.

Today, I borrowed my mom’s car (one degree closer to being Rory Gilmore with my Prius) for a quick get together in DSM with my people, because having residents of NJ, MO, and CAN in IA at the same time is an opportunity that must not be missed. I’m high on life just from seeing them all.

The car doesn’t have bluetooth or phone plug-ins and I don’t know radio stations anymore, so I resorted to the car’s CD collection–which happens to be the same CD collection I grew up listening to: the bests of Beach Boys, Rolling Stones, Beatles, Carole King, Linda Ronstadt, Gary Puckett and the Union Gap…

I didn’t particularly remember Linda’s music, but the CD sure looked familiar, so into the car it went.

Well fuck me if I didn’t find a song that’s been lingering in the back of my mind all my life. Like, “But honey child I’ve got my doubts” is something I’ve probably said word for word.

More importantly, when I’ve been assessing someone after a date or two a refrain of “I ain’t sayin’ you ain’t pretty / I’m sayin I’m not ready…” is always softly playing in the background as a it’s not you, it’s me thing.

And then today I hear it again and realize the next bit: “… for any person, place or thing to try and pull the reins in on me.”

Jesus, Ma and Pa. You ever wonder why I’m not married with kids, and I’m going to point you back to this album and all the times we listened to it.

Also, let’s have a mini post for my uncle Larry who just dove right in this Christmas: “How’s the boy situation up there?” While my first reaction was, OK, excellent, they still know I like men, I actually decided to answer his question and tell the fam I’ve dated, but that I’m impossible to date. “Give me an example.” Well, shit, a story about making the guy feel unwelcome the morning after sleeping at my house is not something I can drop into casual conversation post-mass now is it? Damnit, Larry.

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