If No One Ever Marries Me

Strange day yesterday. Some newscaster last night mentioned that for many of us, Michael Jackson provided a soundtrack for our lives. And, for me, it's true. At least in part. I had my first slow dance to a Michael Jackson song - You Are Not Alone in 1995, with Captain Deviance. And while his last few years were nothing short of strange, his talent will be missed.

And speaking of strange, I once again bring you Strange Things Found in the Library, the lyrics version.

The Computor
music by Robert M. Boberg
words by Jeanne Westerdale
1970

Once a small, little, bald, little scientist
Gave his computor a long, long list.
A list of problems fifty miles long.
And then he burst into this song.

CHORUS:
With the minimum persuasion it can solve a long equation
It can add an "X" to zero which will prophesy a hero.
By an intricate connection it determines an election,
It can launch a guided missile while you stand around and whistle.

First it started very slowly as he turned his back;
It added the numbers with a clickety clack.
Then it subtracted while he winked his eye,
And soon began to multiply!

CHORUS

Then it rattled and it blinked and it flip-flopped fast,
Gobbled up the questions that he had asked.
And then it choked on the hundredth thousandth question.
And groaned with numerical indigestion, indigestion!

CHORUS 2X

(fast) With the
(quite slow) With the
(very slow and detached) With the

tongue click with a drop of the head

Rock on, little computor.

This is my favorite though.

If No One Ever Marries Me
Poem by Laurence Alma Tadema
Music by Harry Simeone
1961

If no one ever marries me,
If no one ever marries me,
I'm a little old maid,
If no one ever marries me.

If no one ever marries me,
And I don't see why they should,
For Nurse says I'm not pretty,
And I'm seldom very good.
If no one ever marries me,
I shan't mind very much.
I'll buy a squirrel in a cage
And a little rabbit hutch.

If no one ever marries me,
If no one ever marries me,
I'm a little old maid,
If no one ever marries me.

I'll have a cottage near a wood,
And a pony all my own,
A little lamb quite clean and tame,
And a pussy cat mine alone.
And when I'm really getting old,
At twenty-eight or nine,
I'll buy a little orphan girl
And bring her up as mine.

If no one ever marries me,
If no one ever marries me,
I'm a little old maid,
If no one ever marries me.

Well, now I know what I have to look forward to!

Also, I finally joined Twitter - follow me!

Happiness is five different crayons

As I approached the table last night, filled with friends I know and friends yet to be made, one spoke up.

"Amanda, you look really happy."

"Thank you! I am!"

And I meant it.

Also, I have no more classes for my MLIS. Projects, yes, but classes? No. The end is nigh!

Yo, those were the days I will never forget

Maybe it's because I saw Up! on Saturday. Maybe it's because yesterday was Father's Day. Maybe it's because I just turned 25 and it somehow dawned on me that I won't be a mom until at least my late twenties. Maybe it's all of the above.

Either way, I've been reminiscing about my childhood and have come to the realization that my children may never get to experience certain joys I did. Two specifically have come to mind.

Jack's Pak-It - This was the little convenience store next door to my ballet studio in Beaumont, Texas. Living in our yellow house (where we lived from 1996-1998), it was within biking distance. During the summer, my siblings and I would hop on our bikes with a spare dollar or two and buy our favorite candy. They had a great selection and it was fun to stock up 10 cent candies, like 2 packs of Sixlets, three SweetTarts, and some 50 cent chocolate bar. Brotherface and I would take shifts shopping or watching the bikes, and Sisterpants (who would have only been 8-10 at the time) would stay in view of one us. We'd usually eat something there and then bike back home, finishing our candy over the course of the next day or so. I have no idea how often we'd go, but it was one of the few activities all three of us could agree on, and we still talk about it.

Nowadays, it's all chains, like 7-11, and it's not nearly the selection of child-priced candies. I only hope my children will have a place like that to go on their own and spend their hard-earned allowance/babysitting/chore money.

Renting movies - Now, as a Netflix user, I'm partly to blame for this, but video rental stores on the decline. Libraries have DVDs, but not all of them have a great selection (the last library branch I frequented did not). This is sad, because one of our favorite things to do as kids, accompanied by a parent, was to go the video store and rent a movie, after all our Friday chores were done. It wasn't always easy to decide, which probably drove our parents crazy, but almost always managed to do so. If I want to continue this occasional treat of a tradition for my kids, it's probably going to need some serious modification. And that's unfortunate.

Luckily, there are some things I loved as a kid that will still be around whenever I get around to having a family:

• Parent-child dates
• Biking
• Hiking
• Sing-alongs
• Father's interviews
• Lemonade stands
• Sporting events

Some days, I can't wait.

Little man, you've had a busy day

Last week, I got a phone call from my Administrative Assistant who, like everyone else in my actual department, works in a different city.

"There are some boxes coming your way, at least hopefully, that are for [Summer Program]. They should have your name and address, but are labeled with the wrong building name. Keep an eye out for them?"

Sure thing.

This morning, I email her, having received an envelope that seems to fit that description and she asks that I put it with the rest of the [Summer Program] things.

Shortly following:

Guy In The Building Whose Name I Should Probably Learn enters my office, with a few boxes that most certainly are part of the mystery boxes.

"Are these yours?"

"Sort of."

And we go out to the warehouse so I can show him where they go.

A short time later, GITBWNISPL returns.

"Um. Where did you want those again?"

We go back out to the warehouse and this time I help him put them away. You want something done right . . .

I realize I should go tell the other people from my department that are temporarily working in my building that the boxes have arrived and we don't have to worry about them. Then a New Person asks me to show him all the [Summer Program] pallets. And where we keep the coffee maker.

Done and done.

I breathe.

A Guy I Do Know But Who Is Also Not in My Department enters my office with a packing slip.

"There's a whole pallet of stuff out here. Is it yours?"

I stare blankly at the paper, looking for answers. Then, resign myself to entering the warehouse yet again to solve the mystery. Sure enough, the pallet is mine. I show him where to stash it and return to my office to make a [Summer Program] label. And back to the warehouse. And back to my office.

Admin. Asst. calls.

"Matt just emailed me and said there's stuff out there for us. Do you know Matt?"

"He might be GITBWNISPL . . ."

"I'll have him contact you."

Matt comes into my office. It's not GITBWNISPL. Relief.

"There's a whole pallet of stuff out here. Is it yours?"

"Is it what GIDKBWIANIMD showed me?"

"Yes."

Great.

Email to Admin. Asst.:

"I have [List of Stuff] here."

"Does it say what class it's for? I asked them to label it Amanda Stretch/[Class Name]. Did you put them by the other [Summer Program] boxes?"

Back out to the warehouse for the 85th time. I think I've been out there more today than the rest of the year.

"Yes. They say [Class Name]. But half the boxes have my name wrong. That's fun."

And then it was 2 PM.

I eat lunch.

So, if you ever wonder why my desk looks like this:



Or this:



It's because of days like today.

At least I have these little guys to keep me company.

I can watch a sunset on my own

When people find out I live alone, I usually get one of two reactions:

1 - Oh! That's awesome!

OR

2 - Really? Why?

You know what? Because I can, and I pretty much love it.

The truth is, I've never had a really, really great roommate situation. Either they've really, very much not liked me or I've been the odd one out (or there was the time that it was both and I felt very much ganged up on). Now, the former roommates that I know read this blog know this already, so this isn't news to anyone. (Hi the Spy and the General!)

A relationship with three people is always unstable. There will almost always be two that get along better than the three together. Sometimes it changes to be a different two, but there's usually someone on the outside, sometimes only barely, sometimes way out. I was always somewhere in between. I was still friends with the roommates who didn't loathe my existence, but not as good of friends as they were with each other. It was rarely uncomfortable, just not great.

So, for a long time, I said that I would either move in with my husband or move out by myself. I'd had temporary tastes of that freedom, and I rather enjoyed it.

Lo and behold, the universe listened. I have my very own place. And I'm in love.

Sure, since I work alone and live alone, there are days that I don't talk to a single person. There's no one to come home to and share my day with. No one to distract me from my homework. No one to share their dinner with me on a day I'd rather not cook. If I want human interaction, I have to seek it out.

On the other hand, there's no one else's dishes in the sink. No one is talking while the TV is on. No one is going to walk in when I have company. No one's lurking around when I really need to be alone. I don't have to watch anything I don't want to, or subject anyone else to the weird things I like to watch or listen to. It's quiet when I want quiet, and loud when I want loud.

It's awesome.

Sure, it gets a little lonely sometimes. But it makes the time I do spend with people whose company I enjoy that much sweeter.

The sweetest thing

My weekend in pictures

The baby birds (robins, I think) cuddled and snoozing on my front lawn. Their mom was off getting food (she was there when I'd arrived home).



The worst injury I have sustained thus far climbing out of bed. The picture doesn't really do it justice. It's a lovely greenish-yellow today.



Twilight candy? Really?



Oh yes. Really.



The makeup for my dance concert.



And in full.



I also got to practice my parenting skills, or least Best Aunt Ever skills. The "nephew" and his parents came over on Friday to help me hang up some of my bigger art pieces and I was able to show him the baby birds and teach him how to fist bump. In turn, he showed me where I need to child-proof my home. On Saturday evening, I babysat so his parents could go on a date and I was able to practice my baby shampoo mohawk skills. (No pictures here because I forgot to take them, and I wouldn't post pictures of someone else's baby in the bath anyway.)

It was so fun to watch him learn and associate things. He doesn't like bubbles on his face (no bubble beards for us), so if he had some, I'd wipe them off with the washcloth. Then, at one point, when my arm was covered in bubbles and hanging over the edge of the tub, he used the washcloth to wipe them off.

And the best part? Besides the baby hugs and kisses and overall adorableness?

He's learning to say my name.

Gets me every time.

Another night, another dream, but always you

On "Mommy Blogs", you can usually count on at least two topics to come up on every single one. Every mommy and every baby. Namely, excrement and sleep. It's two of things babies are naturally good at. Also, being cute, so baby photos are everywhere. As a non-mommy, I usually read those posts and think "Well, I'm in for it eventually." Or "Awesome. I can't wait until I'm living on less sleep than I already get." [/saracsm] And "I will never post about my babies and what they do in their diapers. Seriously." (This may or may not hold true later. We'll see.)

But, sleep, sleep I can relate to. In fact, I was able to think of four blogs I'd read recently that involved the babies sleeping through the night - Jasmine and Alexis, Nancy and Rachel, Tiffany and Cecily, Cicada and Gulliver.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, I'm here to report that I, too, have finally slept through the night. Now, you know that I really do not like having to get out of bed in the middle of the night. Now that my bed is five feet off the ground and getting up literally involves climbing out and down, I dislike it even more.

Unfortunately, I found it difficult to sleep in my new apartment for the first little while. It was a new place. The wall was too close. The ground was too far. What little light was in my room was coming from a different place than it used to (my TiVo is my night light now). Falling asleep was hard.

Then, once I fell asleep, I kept waking up. Usually only once, sometimes twice, and I'd have to get up, climb out of bed, and then stumble through my apartment for either the bathroom or a drink, usually both.

Yes, there was a small sensation of victory when I discovered that it was 3 AM (or whenever) and I could go back to sleep for another 5 hours. But if I then stayed awake for another 30 minutes or more, the victory passed. The last few nights have been particularly rough.

So, this morning, when my alarm went off and I woke up for the first time all night, I was pleasantly relieved. I just hope I can keep that up.

You get what you give

Miss Nemesis has been discussing "You might be a librarian if . . ." both in general and specifically related to being a public librarian. I found myself relating to quite a bit of both lists, so much that within a few days of reading them, I alphabetized my spice rack. I also decided to have a little bit of fun and make my own list.

Without further ado, I bring you:

You might be a music librarian if . . .

• The number one question you are asked is - "Do you have music?"
• You not-so-secretly loathe being asked to "name that tune".
• You secretly love it, especially because you almost always get it right.
• You catch yourself mentally cataloging every piece of sheet music you see.
• You know the names of music publishers better than book publishers.
• You've ever been asked to sing a piece of music to a patron over the phone. Extra points if it's instrumental music.
• Your librarian blog is heavily music related.

What would you add?

I dreamed a dream

It may be sign that you spend more time with people in the blogosphere than with people in the real world when the people in your dreams are people whose blogs you read. Fortunately, I know this whole family (even if I haven't seen Rachel since she was itty bitty, almost brand new) and this girl, but not her boyfriend (though I'd like to, he seems great). Unfortunately, I don't know this family, but last night, in dreamland, I was raiding their fridge.

Weird, no?