veiled exuberance

none shall pass.

i think i got powder to stop peeing everywhere.  i'm not sure if these events are linked, but it seems likely...

i decided to trim his nails, and as i had him flipped on his back in my lap (rabbit hypnotizing!), i noticed that he'd actually been mopping up his own pee with his fur.  yuck.  he wasn't wet or tacky or gross, but it was obvious that he'd been laying in it, because his gray fur was slightly yellowed.  poor bunny.  so i trimmed off some of the soiled fur, and then gave him a bath.  after wrapping him in towels and rubbing him out, i realized it was going to take forever for him to dry off completely.  i don't own a hair dryer (and this is the only time i actually wished for one), so i wrapped him in another dry towel and put him in with pyong, who immediately began grooming him.  they like to fluff themselves up and hunker down next to one another, so i figured that powder would be warm enough if he hung out with pyong for a day. 

it *seems* to have worked.  powder's no longer peeing indiscriminantly (i.e. everywhere).  so if it's not all tied to the Traumatic Bathing Incident, then perhaps whatever else was going on in his wee bunny thoughts has been resolved.  i have no further thoughts on this for the moment.

posted by: juuitsu at September 30, 2007 22:08 | link | comments (4) |

ouch.  weekend.

every strange person in town put in an appearance at the library this saturday.  we had some very odd people/questions.  and one guy who was either trying to be funny or trying to be a dick.  i can't figure out which it was.  i was on my way back to the desk from helping someone in the stacks, and as i made my way past the computers, this man called out, "hey, you.  you're not being very helpful.  my WIFE needs help."  i don't know what *that* was supposed to mean.  had i walked by them before?  no.  was i ignoring them?  no.  i recommend *not* pissing off the person from whom you're seeking assistance before you've even asked your question.  my gut reaction was to tell him to screw himself.  instead i blinked at him once and said, "okaaaaay."  which is exactly what my high school chemistry teacher would have done.  his wife, thankfully, was not a dick.

i finally got to see lars again - our schedules conspire against us!  we met up for mexican food and brought pictures to share.  oberon and i got lost on the way to the restaurant.  it was dark, and i couldn't see the itty bitty (i'm assuming) sign for whatever obscure county road i was looking for.  turns out *my* way was more straightforward anyway, so no harm done.  i called lars to tell her we were going to be late, and mentioned where we were (kind of hoping she could tell us if we were at least aimed in the right direction) - all she had for me was, "yeah, i never go that way..."  ha.  on *my* way we saw a HORSE (and rider) galloping down the shoulder of the road.  in the pitch blackness of the night.  isn't there some kind of law against that?  shouldn't the horse at least have lights?  glowsticks?  i dunno.  seemed...dangerous.

we got back here late, fell asleep late, woke up late...finally made an effort to find breakfast food around 2.  yay.  we went to the bunny restaurant (richard walker's), which does not do bunny-shaped pancakes, but does sell little stuffed dutch bunnies.  they have really yummy breakfasts.  things were going much as they usually do, until these people sitting across from us got into a religious discussion.  one of them fancied himself some kind of preacher/prophet/mouthpiece of god and had something like a religious experience AS he was sitting there.  they all ended up joining hands after he got them all riled up with his *sermon.*  he told them that the glory of god has *weight* and that he'd been carrying it around his house all week.  it was disturbing.  i don't know how anyone in their right mind could have taken him seriously and these people he was with were just eating up EVERY word he said.  and then?  they started praying and singing.  LOUDLY.  i wish i'd been taking notes so i could relay the experience verbatim.  he was obviously more in love with the sound of his own voice than he was in touch with any kind of higher power.  or maybe my idea of a higher power doesn't involve so much noise and worship and nonsense. 

the post office is still holding my mail hostage.  *sigh*  i filled out one of those "please hold my mail for me" cards before i went on my road trip the week before last.  and i picked up my mail this past monday and signed the card that said, "please resume mail delivery."  but it did not resume.  and i did not have time to go back and 'splain things to them.  again.  argh.  i wish things would just, you know, *work* like they should.  because i don't have all the time in the world to go around fixing them.  heidegger would say that it is the brokenness of things that makes us examine them more closely.  that's all well and good.  i just need to get beyond being pissed about it.  because i am a little pissed.  the post office has given me grief.  but.  mostly, it's just been a busy week and i only have so much time for things.

posted by: juuitsu at September 30, 2007 22:00 | link | comments (1) |

i was away last week on a road trip with oberon, so i've been catching up a lot this week.  it seems like i will never be fully caught.  i'm still trying to work myself out of the stay up/wake up really late pattern - with limited success.  LAST night i only stayed up until 1.  yay.  there's so much to do, too (here and at work), and my brain just doesn't want to concentrate on any of that.  it has other thoughts and its own agenda and i'm with it - let's just NOT think about that, let's muse on THIS instead.  k.

JM told me a few weeks ago that Haven Kimmel would be in Naperville at Anderson's bookstore (shop?) on Monday.  i decided i really wanted to go and hear her read - her memoirs are so quirky and funny (i'm starting to overuse quirky...need a new word - suggestions?).  turns out she's really amusing in person, too.  she read a little bit from her new novel that's just out (The Used World) and explained - as she was reading - who the characters were, what they were like, how very much like her MOTHER certain actions were.  :)  made them seem like real people (and for her they probably are!).  i stuck around to talk with JM and S afterward and when all of the book signing was done, i met Haven as well.  she seems like good people - someone you'd want to know in real life and not just as That Famous Author.  very down to earth and goofy.  note: people ask some strange questions at book signings.  not necessarily things that i'd want to know, but maybe things to make them look smart?  or maybe i just have no idea how to ask these kinds of questions myself, and would rather talk to people like i know them already instead of grilling them. 

mmm.  grilled people.

the road trip was wander-y and unplanned beyond "let's go somewhere for a week in the car!"  somewhere turned out to be half Michigan, a dash of Ohio, a taste of Indiana, and a long weekend in Illinois.  not quite Utah, or mountains or Out West (i had this hankering to see mountains and hidden places), but satisfying in its own way. 

to be continued...

posted by: juuitsu at September 27, 2007 09:21 | link | comments (6) |

i almost did that thing again where i try to steam broccoli without the water.  ack.

posted by: juuitsu at September 26, 2007 21:40 | link | comments |

so, i leave my rabbit, powder, with my folks for a week while i'm away on a road trip, and when i get back he's trained himself (or untrained himself as the case may be) into peeing wherever he feels like it.  joy.  i seethe every time i look into his cage and realize that he's Done It Again.  OH, bunny, WHY?  i am going to switch litter boxes on him again and hope that this encourages him to start using it again.  next step?  bunny diapers.

posted by: juuitsu at September 26, 2007 20:49 | link | comments (3) |

True Notebooks
Mark Salzman

Mark Salzman gets involved with the writing program at a juvenile detention facility in Los Angeles when his editor tells him that the juvenile delinquent character in his new novel needs work.  He decides to inject some reality into Carlos by interacting with some real delinquents, and he sits in on one of their writing classes.  The sophistication and honesty of the boys’ work surprises Mark, and after that, he’s easily railroaded by one very determined nun into teaching his own class. 

Most of the boys in his class (and in the facility) are in on murder charges – waiting to go to trial or receive sentencing, so it’s a little intimidating to work with them.  Eventually, though, Mark finds a way to reach out to the boys and get them to write something about their lives and experiences.  Each class lasts an hour, and the boys write for about thirty minutes of that time and then each one reads what he has written to the group.  Mark shares a lot of the work they did in these pages.  Just like on the outside, some of the boys are more talented than the others, and some are more motivated, some are characters, some are quiet, some are angry and disruptive.  The one thing they all need is someone who is willing to listen to them, who makes them feel like they matter – because incarceration is a dehumanizing experience. 

The boys’ writing, at least initially when you’re not sure what to expect, is really real.  They’re obviously thinking and processing a lot of things about their experiences before and after their imprisonment.  It’s satisfying to hear them tell it like it is, to understand what their lives were/are like.  But, there’s also only so much of that you need to hear before it all starts sounding the same.  And the next big revelation is just one more kid telling one more gangsta story.  Maybe this is what it sounds like to the judges and juries that try and convict these young men – just another drop in the bucket. 

This was a thoughtful and provoking look at both the juvenile delinquent system and its products.  It’s disheartening to see so much wasted youth, so many wasted lives.  There’s something good in each of these young men that could be nurtured, shaped, grown, but no one has the time or energy or desire to really make a difference.  It takes a lot to break out of the lifestyle, the neighborhoods, the mentality, the behaviors that most of them have learned.  The people who condemn them fear that they will return to those things if they are released; they don’t believe that they can be redeemed.  But 25-50 years in prison will make them hard, old, less dangerous.  What can be done?  One of Salzman’s writing colleagues asks him what the point of writing classes for inmates can be?  What good does it do?  If society has given up on these kids, what does this facsimile of hope/normality give them?  Wouldn’t it be more useful to get involved with these kids before they get to prison?  Hard questions.  We are such a throwaway society.  We throw away trash, we throw away food, we throw away opportunities, we throw away people.  Perhaps the message to us (and to them) is that we are all valuable in some way, wherever we happen to be.  The guys in prison probably need to hear that even more than those of us on the outside.

posted by: juuitsu at September 12, 2007 16:40 | link | comments |

Sickened: The True Story of a Lost Childhood
Julie Gregory

Julie Gregory’s mom is obsessed with her daughter’s health.  She spends years convincing everyone that Julie is a very sick little girl.  Even Julie starts believing that there’s something wrong with her.  Her illness keeps her out of school, keeps her from graduating, keeps her from making friends, keeps her from having a normal life, and keeps her right under her mother’s thumb.  Mom also makes her take medicines she doesn’t need, and has her on a variety of diets to control her illness that only serve to make Julie more sick and malnourished.  Julie and her brother (and eventually the foster children their parents take in) are marched off to specialists to have their problems diagnosed.  In one harrowing experience, Julie is forced to spend a week in the hospital for testing and exploratory surgery.  In desperation she screams that her mother is making it up!  But the nurse doesn’t believe her.  In fact, every time Julie is able to articulate and identify her mother’s abnormal behavior, no one believes her.  She finally breaks down at work one day and confesses everything to her supervisor, who makes sure that Julie gets to talk to someone who can help her.  Melissa, her savior, gets both Julie and the foster children out of mom’s reach.

For years after this, Julie has an uneasy relationship with her parents – her mother, in particular.  She is in and out of foster care, returns home for awhile, lives in her own apartments and houses, but she can’t find a direction, and when she’s under a lot of stress she recreates the habits and behaviors (and the sickness) her mother ingrained in her when she was growing up.  Finally, sick and attending a class in abnormal psychology she learns, for the first time, about Munchausen by proxy (MBP) – and runs out of class.  That’s her mother they’re talking about!  But identifying what’s wrong doesn’t suddenly make everything better.  Things are still very bad for her.  Most people she talks to, therapists, even, have no idea what MBP is.  Julie ends up living by herself, making up her own cure.  And when she emerges from her self-imposed, self-devised therapy, she’s almost whole.  She goes to see her mother in Montana.  She finds her perpetrating the same kind of treatment on yet another little girl in her care.  Julie cannot stand it.  She writes:

“I have come back to prosecute my mother, to tell her secrets, to rip from her a veil burnt, sewn, crusted onto her skin.  I don’t know what shape the process will take, but I have got to stop my mother.  Stop her from taking each new girl she lures into her life under a false pretense…I have pushed the last bubble of my guilt from out behind the wrinkle of wallpaper.  I owe her nothing…I will save that eleven-year-old girl, that next-generation replica of me…Because my mother is not done yet; she never will be.”  (p. 244)

This was a very powerful and moving memoir.  The thing that is so awful about these memoirs of terrible childhood experiences is that you can’t do anything to save them.  Their powerlessness becomes shared, becomes your powerlessness.  You can’t reach them, can’t touch them, can’t rescue them.  They are trapped until someone does see, or they can escape under their own power.  The waiting is suspenseful, awful, frustrating.  I’m hesitant to “rate” abuse, but on the scale of graphic and physical abuse, this was somewhat less horrifying than Dave Pelzer’s memories of his mother.  There’s plenty of crazy mother to go around, though - and crazy father, and crazy-in-denial doctors/society/world.  We can learn the reasons, perhaps, behind the crazy, but it’s awfully hard to forgive it or even understand what compels them to do what they do.  Julie has got to be an extraordinary person to have come out of her abusive childhood with such strength and determination.  She may have been sprung initially from her mother’s clutches by an outsider, but she had to be her own healing influence.  Now, how did she manage to cling to sanity when abuse has destroyed so many others?  What about her made a difference? 

posted by: juuitsu at September 12, 2007 15:43 | link | comments |

dream.

it's almost time for the filming and we're all huddled nervously together in our little fur suits.  there are about thirty of us all together, ranging between the ages of 5 and 16.  i'm 11, and i'm trying to reassure the younger ones - this is their first show and they don't know what to expect.  so, we talk quietly for awhile and they start to relax.  everything around us is chaos - people everywhere getting the sets and cameras ready, makeup artists air-brushing the stars, last minute coffee and pastry runs to starbucks.  we're this forgotten, fuzzy island in the eye of the storm. 

we're ready.  and finally *they're* ready, and a man with a large salt and pepper mustache leans back through a black curtained window - lifting the curtain so we can see his face - and says, "it's show time, kiddies."  another man deep in shadow beckons us forward silently.  as we approach the brightly lit stage and the cameras and our moment he says, "now.  like you mean it."  and we all roar our heads off and run.  we burst into the light, our small fuzzy bodies wild and furious, our roars met with the applause of the Live Audience.  we ARE the wookieteers!  rawwwwwwr!

posted by: juuitsu at September 06, 2007 08:13 | link | comments (2) |

troubled sleep.  the first is a nightmare that i swore i would remember later, but don't.  it woke me up several times, and the last i just lay there looking up at the ceiling (at nothing, because it was so dark) and wishing it would go away so i wouldn't have to dream about it anymore.  can't i think about something else?  wish granted, i guess.

i'm sitting at one of the tables in the engineering library, studying a stack of soiled, much consulted papers.  they are pictures i've snapped of fellow classmates - with their nametags on - engaged in various activities.  we are playing a game, and two of us, myself and someone else, have been chosen as the grand champions of the game - we get to *play* first, while everyone else attends us.  only our scores will count.  what are we playing?  it's not clear.  i think, initially, that all that is required of us is to memorize our fellow players names and faces.  we'll be tested on that.  that's what i focus on.

later, i'm watching a video of the IT guy playing tennis.  he's terrible, but ebullient.  he's also in charge of the game.  i realize that we're all responsible for collecting our own information about people - there's no way that this test can be in anyway *standardized*, because we all know different things.  i jot down several attributes for people.  "Danny - likes potatoes, has black and white printer."

test day comes and i'm still under-prepared (isn't this always the case?).  i'm joined by my rival and note that she looks supremely confident and poised.  i just feel queasy and nervous.  people are milling around discussing the test before we've even seen it.  i hate when they do this.  i've always hated it.  they're testing one another and i feel all of my carefully prepared pieces of knowledge falling out of their well-ordered stacks and into jumbled piles in my brain.  i shake my head and try not to listen.  their cramming isn't going to help me in the least.

it is time.

the IT guy hands me a copy of the test and even though i know we've all been working from our own notes, it shocks me when none of the pictures i've been studying shows up on the test.  in fact, there are very few pictures.  the first question asks me to compare/identify Danny and Joe, like, who would i go to if i wanted a spaghetti dinner, and would i change my mind if i, later, needed to print out my history paper?  i can no longer remember who has the printer...and as i look down at the test, i notice that IT guy has scribbled notes on it in pencil.  like, maybe answer notes.  like, maybe this was his copy of the test and i shouldn't even have it.  and i think i can figure out the Danny question if i read his notes, but as i scan down the test, i see that some of them are contradictory.  this throws my brain for another loop.  i look up and around at everyone else.  they don't seem concerned.  but they also don't seem to be working on their tests at all.  what's going on? 

i pause, forehead all wrinkled up in confusion and concentration, and then i know, i just know.  every test is different.  they've somehow catered each one to what each one of us studied.  in a minute, in just a minute i will be able to handle this.  what happens, though, if i don't win?  if my opponent comes out ahead.  she's smiling at me from across the room, where she is seated at another long table.  it isn't a nice smile at all.

posted by: juuitsu at September 04, 2007 07:03 | link | comments (2) |

from someone's self-description, "i'm a simple individual who still has the heart of a child" ... which i ripped from its breast and keep - still beating - in a porcelain candy dish next to my bed.  what?  it helps me sleep.

posted by: juuitsu at September 02, 2007 07:07 | link | comments (2) |

notes you wish you could put in patron records:

*CRABBY*

the other day, i got a phone call while i was at the reference desk from a woman who wanted to check on the status of a hold she'd placed "some time" ago.  several things:

1.) some time ago = 2 weeks ago
2.) the holds list system wide is 744 people long
3.) we own 12 copies of this particular book, but 1 is on order, and 2 are hotpicks (meaning, you can't place holds on them and they can only be checked out for 7 days - we have these for people who like to 'get lucky.')
4.) every library fills its own patrons' holds requests first - so other libraries copies of this particular book will first go to their patrons, not ours

got all that?
k.  so, she wants to know WHEN exactly we're going to get this book for her.  i explain that it is hard to say for sure, and in fact, i can't.  i'm sure someone with a better grasp of chaos theory could help us out here.  i explain about the number of copies we own, and where she is in the holds list and tell her the best i can do is estimate based on that.  HOW LONG?  she asks again.  and i say, it could be 2 months, depending.  she's furious.  how can it BE that long?  i explain again.  and then point out that not everyone brings things back on time, and people have several days to pick up books that are on hold for them, and for estimation purposes we should assume that everyone who has a copy now *just* checked it out, so they've got 3 weeks, and then the people after them have 3 weeks, and she might make the third round...she doesn't want to hear it.  she wants guaranteed delivery.  i laugh and say, i can't guarantee that it will be here for you on a certain date.  i'm sorry, it just doesn't work like that.  she tells me that SHE pays her taxes.  great.  so do other people!  she tells me that she heard about this book and really wants to read it.  that's super!  she tells me that she's LOSING INTEREST (uh-oh, is that a threat?) because it's taking us so long to get her a copy. 

what do people DO with themselves all day that they have time to get into a snit about stuff like this?  she's just not the only person on the planet, in this country, in our community who wants to read this book.  she's going to have to wait.  she could, i don't know, find something else to DO while she's waiting, instead of getting all pissed off because she can't have this one thing NOW when she wants it.  i don't know how you get to be her age and not figure that out.  the world doesn't OWE you anything. 

and after 10 minutes of listening to her go on and ON about how she's been a good little person her whole life and how we are NOT giving her the service (me, in particular, i suppose) that she deserves, i am SO done.  i want to ask, but cannot, who she thinks she is?  i want to point out that we all have to wait.  i want to say, there are a million good books out there, you could try one of those.  i want to say, you know, if you *really* wanted to read this, you should have gotten on the holds list AGES ago, like all those other people in front of you.  mostly i want to be really snarky and teach her lessons and make her contrite.  but i don't.  and as we're about to hang up i'm really tempted  to close our our conversation by saying, "well, sometimes life just sucks like that.  you don't get what you want.  you have to deal.  have a nice day." 

so i take a deep breath when i get off the phone and wish that someone else had picked up the call, because i hate being made to feel responsible for people's bad moods.  i talk myself out of that.  and i come up with this solution - staffside notes that one can put in patrons' records that say things like, "crabby" or "belligerent" or "insufferable bitch."  even, "it's not you, it's HER."  because then you'd know what you were in for from the get go.  when you're *serving* someone like that, it's nice to have a heads up, know that it's not just you and that other people have noticed.  mrs. so-and-so, she's a real wanker - watch out. 

i suggested this once i got back to my office.  my boss says we'll run it past the board.  ;)  ha.  just kidding.

post script:
so then i got to thinking what happens when she *does* finally get this book?  i mean, what if she hates it?  here we'll have spent all of this time and money acquiring, processing, placing this book on hold for her, and now she hates it!  what then?  does she come back in and rail against us for making her wait for something that sucked ass?  can't wait.

posted by: juuitsu at September 01, 2007 18:53 | link | comments (2) |

the church where we had our HP party this summer (on the night of the new book's release) got some flack from someone in the community who said that, by allowing us to use their sacred space for our secular event, they were condoning witchcraft and "violating the will of God." 

frankly, i was surprised when i found out that we'd be using the church as our venue - for exactly that reason.  i figured *someone* would object.  but, apparently, not the church.  the pastor wrote a really stellar letter in defense of their decision to allow us to use the space, AND in defense of Harry Potter.  i can't tell you how fantastic it is to have evidence that not all religious people are insane.  he's obviously read the books (which is often more than you can say for the people who object to them), and he understands them - takes them as they were meant to be read (and not out of context for his own nefarious purposes).  i do not understand the word twisters.  i know what they're trying to do, but why?  what is the point of denying other people access and another point of view?  *grumble*

an excerpt:

"I feel sorry for a person whose faith is so unstable that they are challenged by a children's story; especially when a careful examination of its themes demonstrate a host of clearly Christian values.  Harry and his friends are opposed to evil and in order to confront it they wisely use every gift (dare I say, God-given gift?) they have to defeat it.  Is that not what we are called upon to do as Christians?"

he also quotes both from the Bible and from HP.  way to stand up for your faith and access to information, pastor!

posted by: juuitsu at September 01, 2007 18:27 | link | comments (1) |

audio books i have loved:

* The Outsiders - S.E. Hinton
* The Life of Pi - Yann Martel
* A Northern Light - Jennifer Donnelly
* Fierce Invalids From Hot Climates - Tom Robbins
* Microthrills - Wendy Spero
* A Girl Named Zippy - Haven Kimmel
* She Got Up Off the Couch - Haven Kimmel
* Plan B - Anne Lamott
* Peony in Love - Lisa See
* Snowflower and the Secret Fan - Lisa See
* Across the Nightingale Floor - Lian Hearn
* Feed - M.T. Anderson
* The Time Traveler's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger

posted by: juuitsu at September 01, 2007 18:13 | link | comments (2) |

i love how sleep makes headaches go away.  it's like magic!  works in a somewhat more leisurely time frame, though, than, say, drugs.  that was an obscene amount of comma-age.  good thing no one's around to smack me.

i just knocked all of my notes to self off of my desk - they were piled in a precarious tower.  they leaned.  i swiped.  they flew.  (that was the blow by blow action recap...i continue) i collected and repiled.  the one on top reminds me that i was going to compile a list of really good audiobooks.  which i will.  i keep thinking of more.

it is now 8:01 am (according to my watch) and i still have chocolate cookie in my teeth from breakfast.  yes.  i have had a peanut butter and raspberry jam sandwich for breakfast.  also, a glass of milk and a chocolate chocolate chip cookie.  my dad baked yesterday and sent me home with cookies, and steak, and carrots.  it is good to visit occasionally - and harder for people to get sick of you if it's only occasionally.

while i was home yesterday, i taught my mom about online bill paying, and signed her up for snapfish - so she could upload some of her pictures and get some prints made.  and in the process of so doing, i realized that she looks at the computer as something that must be learned according to very specific rules - this goes for websites, too.  which is kind of funny.  i was telling her what to click on and what to do next and she meticulously recorded everything i said (in shorthand), and then typed up the instructions later and tried to follow them.  i understand the not wanting to forget...but how can you expect your brain to remember all of that?  after about 20 minutes of this i said, "you know, mom, you could just *read* the website.  it tells you exactly what you need to do."  huh.  she said.  i spend so much time learning things on the fly that this is second nature to me.  it was interesting to note the difference.

and, since i'm going to be late if i keep on, i'll continue this later.  muuuuusing.

posted by: juuitsu at September 01, 2007 08:02 | link | comments |

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