Mmmmm TB muffins

Only one week left of my work term at the medical library. The end cannot come soon enough. It's going to be especially hard getting up in the morning now that I've already graduated. Theoretically, I could just not show up but then I would earn myself a bad reputation in "libraryland" which, apparently, exists.

The stress of working all the time is getting to me. I've been having long complicated dreams and I wake up thinking, "I have been running around solving puzzles ALL night. I can't POSSIBLY go to work now." I had a dream today that I was trying to explain rap music to someone. Clearly, the dream represented how out of my league I am when someone comes into the library wanting to know if we have any information on mesenteric cysts, or acute myocardial infarctions, or whatever else is on the go that day. Luckily, my photocopier skills are really more important than my medical knowledge. These doctors may be able to remove a cancerous growth from dangerously close to vital organs but that doesn't mean they can remove a misfed piece of paper from Tray 1.

Last Friday I went to a workshop with my colleagues on the Cochrane Library, an online source for reviews of medical treatments. All the other librarians brought notebooks and pens. That was the first sign I didn't belong; I only brought a doughnut. The second sign that I didn't belong was when I was late returning from the break and found myself locked out of the classroom. I had to wait in the hall for it to be over. I learned a lot that day.

Turns out the yummy free muffins I snack on throughout the day are leftovers from the department next to us - Infectious Diseases. Ewww. I'm sure their muffins are probably perfectly fine but still...ewwww.

When I used to work in a drug store I had lots of time to thumb through fashion magazines and it's really easy to start thinking that you're fat and unattractive. Now that I spend much of my day scanning medical journals, I feel much better about myself. I find myself thinking, "My hair sure does look like crap today, but at least I don't have that wrong with me."

When I'm not at my unpaid job, I'm at my barely paid job. I'm glad I didn't quit Wal-mart yet. It keeps me grounded in what I've come to know as reality. A woman came up to me the other day and told me there was something wrong with her cart. She said she got a bad shock every time she touched it. I explained to her how passing through all the racks of clothing built up a lot of friction. Seriously, if I had a dollar for every time I got shocked during my shift, I could buy Wal-Mart. But she was looking at me like she expected me to do something. This gave me a pretty good idea about what kind of person she was, so I went into my supply room and came back with a spare bar from a clothing rack and said it was our de-shocker. I touched her cart with it and told her that now she might still get some shocks, but they would be less powerful and that she could come back if she needed me to de-shock it again. It must have worked pretty well because she only had to come back once. Helping people - it's what I do. She may have been crazy but I understand her pain. I once touched a cart and got shocked so badly I almost peed myself.

Everything I know about medicine, I learned from "Grey's Anatomy"

It looks like I will be graduating. They just refuse to let you fail at community college. Even if you're kind of a screw-up, you can succeed. I had to write one extra exam in my favorite subject, Records Management and I had to spend the first two days of my vacation in North Carolina writing a Records Management manual, but it all worked out. The first two days of vacation were cold and rainy anyway and my travel companions were old and bookish and more than happy to spend a day in the local library reading and watching the lightening while I finished my work. Once I had emailed my assignment, the skies cleared and we had beautiful weather the rest of the week. I managed to get a bad sunburn the final day which we spent poolside and at the beach. Three weeks later, I'm still peeling skin off my scorched legs, but overall, it was a wonderful trip.

My graduation now hinges upon my successful completion of a five week work term. Because I wasn't eligible earlier due to my potentially failing marks, I was the last person to get a work placement. But I still ended up with the best placement, the details of which were only finalized after all the smart, hard-working students had already been placed. Starting on Tuesday, I will be at the VG hospital library, conveniently located a short walk from both my house and my gym. I originally though I would be at the Infirmary on Robie Street and was looking forward to meeting cardiologists and neurosurgeons, but since I'm at the VG, I'll have to settle for dermatologists and oncologists. Until embarrassingly recently, I thought an oncologist was just a doctor who was on call. So I think it's safe to say I'll learn a lot.

So I'm 26 now. That's pretty old. I was encouraged that people thought I was young enough that they could ask me how old I was when they found out it was my birthday. They mostly seemed surprised and said they thought I was 22. I'm happy with looking 22, but maybe that's just something people say to make old people feel better.

Worst Student Ever

Early Monday morning classes are killing me. My internal clock is so messed up I never have any idea what time it is. Last night I went to set my alarm for 6am and discovered it was already 6:17am. I was actually running late. So instead of sleeping (one of my favorite things), I went to class (not even in my top 10).

Our morning class ended up being cancelled. We were all already at school so the losers went to the the library to work on assignments and everyone else went to the pub down the road. We arrived at our afternoon class (Records Management) at 4:30 drunk and all hyped up from an afternoon of cheesecake and gossip which our teacher interpreted as unprecedented enthusiasm in her presentation on microfiche.

I've been in Records Management class for an entire year now and I'm still not really sure what it is. Last year we toured libraries around the city. This year we're touring records management facilities. This month's tour is scheduled for Iron Mountain, the mother of all records management facilities. If you love files and boxes of paper, this would be the place for you. It was shaping up to be our most boring tour yet until the teacher told us that because of all the heavy lifting required, most of the employees were muscular young men. This was met by wild cheers from the predominately female/gay male twentysomething class. Because of the grated floors throughout the building, we were advised not to wear skirts or high heels, but I know of a few people in my class who won't be able to help themselves.

Spring has Sprung

It's actually kind of warm in Halifax today. Hopefully we've seen the last of what has been the longest winter in history.

Only two weeks left of school. These will be especially bad weeks because I haven't done much work all year. Will I fail community college? It's still a possibility at this point. Graduation is June 18. I will post pictures if I actually manage to pull this off. I'm not sure yet where I'll be doing my May work term but it better be somewhere awesome. I'll keep my day job though. Speaking of Wal-Mart, guess which one of the following things happened to me last Saturday:

a) got yelled at by a woman with a beard because we didn't have any plain black t-shirts that she liked

b) found out there is a hidden security camera in the locker room where I have often changed my clothes

c) had to do the work of two people because the only woman working with me took some ecstasy, claimed not to be able to tell colors apart, and took off somewhere with her cousin who had just been released from prison earlier that day.

Don't bother guessing. Of course, they all happened.

On a brighter note, I'm going on the family vacation this year! We're leaving the day after I finish classes. I wanted to go last year when they went to Florida, and the year before when they went to South Carolina but it just never worked out. This year when I finally get to go, we're going to Kitty Hawk, North Carolina. There are no palm trees in North Carolina. I checked.

No matter; I'm just happy to be going anywhere. North Carolina at least promises to be a few degrees warmer than here and to provide some new scenery. I haven't been out of Nova Scotia since I got back from England two and half years ago.

One of the best parts of vacation is looking forward to going and the planning and the packing, but I'm not going to have time to enjoy any of that. I'll be lucky if I can get a load of laundry done so I actually have something to pack. And knowing me, I'll probably still be trying to hand in late assignments on the way to the airport.

My blog will likely continue to be neglected for some time.

The Flying Nunn

Christmas was good. The only downside was that my sister wasn't home. She's living in Calgary volunteering at the Calgary Zoo and working at a restaurant called Soho for a man named Chico whose website promises beautiful girls. She emailed me saying she was being trained as a docent. I didn't know what a docent was so I looked it up to make sure it wasn't a prostitute or a pole dancer. It's not; it's "a person who is a knowledgeable guide, especially one who conducts visitors through a museum and delivers a commentary on the exhibitions." At this point I clued in that the docent training was for her work at the zoo. Whew.

My favorite Christmas present this year was my vacuum cleaner. My second favorite gift was my digital camera. I'm still trying to figure it out. Here's a treat for Jim Nunn fans - pictures of Mark and I trespassing on his property. Here we are on Boxing Day enjoying the view from his patio.

Here's Mark playing with Jim's homemade catapult. In the summer, the little Nunns use it fling rocks and debris at beachgoers. The cabin that stood between our cabin and the Nunn cabin finally succumbed to the elements and fell down, so we are now their next door beach neighbors.

I was not at all prepared to go back to class yesterday. I knew I had to be there for 8:30 (in the morning!) but I had no idea what class I had or where it was being held. I went to school and waited in the lobby until I saw someone I recognized and followed them. They lead me to a class called Information Services II which is luckily where I was supposed to be, but was unfortunately as boring as the name suggests. I only vaguely remember the prerequisite course Information Services I.

Roomies

We have a new roommate in our house. She seems like a perfectly nice girl but she'll take some getting used to by the original three of us who had already gotten into a comfortable routine. The first thing she did was rearrange the kitchen to be more efficient, wash all our dirty dishes and stock up on much-needed supplies. The nerve! She may prove to be a bit high maintenance for us. It will come as no great shock to most people that when I'm completely out of legitimate chocolate food sources, I go to my emergency double chocolate cupcake mix and stir up a small bowl of batter and eat it straight. I was having just such an emergency the other day when our fancy new roommate asked me what I was eating. Because she works as a cook at a classy downtown eatery, I was embarrassed and told her it was pudding. But she's not stupid. She knew. Girl needs to learn not to ask so many personal questions.

Rumours are flying that we may soon have another new roommate. But who would be crazy enough to move into this madhouse? Stay tuned for all the juicy gossip about roommate #5.

We also have several other new roommates of the furry, four-legged variety. I called the landlord and told him we had mice in the house. He told me we weren't allowed to have pets. I could tell he used that line on all his tenants who called with pest problems so I didn't laugh. This was not a joking matter. The preferred hangout for the mice seems to be my room because of the convenient access through the fireplace. For all the trouble that fireplace has caused me, it had better provide a warm cheery glow during the cold days of winter. A VERY, merry warm cheery glow. After today's mouse sighting, which was a bit too close to my bed for comfort, I have moved across the hall to one of the spare bedrooms. I'd like to see that wise-cracking landlord try and rent that room with me living in it. Although he would probably prefer it to my previous methods for a mouse-free sleep. I had been setting up several lamps around my bed on the floor because light deters mice (I have no idea if this is true) and I also set up my fan hoping the noise and breeze would keep them away. The fan made me cold so I had to turn the heat up extra high during the night. I'm sure it looked like I was performing some kind of weird ritual. Maybe I should stop being such a girl and just get some mouse traps.

Guess who won't be getting the mumps this year? Me. I got my shot at school on Thursday. I think the vaccine may have made me temporarily insane because I have no memory of the class I had right after the shot and the notes I took during that class look like they were written by someone else. Stupid re-emerging childhood illnesses.

Friday is the only day of the week that I don't have classes or work so the last thing I want to do is go to a boring library conference. This Friday I will be attending the Nova Scotia School Library Conference. This conference already has two strikes against it. First of all, it's in Truro, the second worst place in Nova Scotia after New Glasgow. Secondly, it's about school libraries and I never want to work in a school library because I hate schoolchildren. But now I have to go because all the overachievers in my class are going. Who overachieves at community college? What are these people trying to prove? Unfortunately when all twenty of us graduate in May, we'll all be applying for the same jobs and we'll all be using the same two teachers as references so I can't allow anyone to be too much better than me. Now I just have to keep my mouth shut about having a valid driver's license and being over 25 or I'll get roped into renting a van and driving us all there and that would not turn out well. Possible headlines include "Bespectacled book-enthusiast endangers lives of conference-bound classmates" or "Van full of nerds careens into guardrail. Highway closed for hours to clean up books, glasses and retainers".

Moving South

I am finally getting settled into my new house. Had I known what a huge hassle moving would be, I would have stayed put. Now that I have moved though, I'm glad I did. Being near Dal again is a nice change of scenery after a year in the geriatric district of the north end.

I went apartment hunting Randall-style. Four days before I had to be out of my apartment, I started worrying and called my mom, who came into the city to help me because I'm so very incompetent. We spent the day driving around looking at places. She wanted to look at some two bedrooms which baffled me. My thinking was "People aren't just going to see me on the street and want to be my roommate". Her thinking was "Let's stand on the street and people will want to be your roommate". I should have had more faith. The plan worked brilliantly. We stood in front of a house with a For Rent sign and within two minutes a girl and her mother came along and asked if we were looking for apartments. The mothers did most of the talking while the daughters stood by, embarrassed to be university graduates in our mid-20's apartment hunting with our moms, but at the same time resigned to their methods. Once both mothers were satisfied that the other's daughter was a fine upstanding citizen, we exchanged numbers and split up. Although we were looking for two bedrooms, we actually ended up settling on a seven bedroom house on South Street right across from Dal.

The landlord instructed us to ignore the broken glass and toxic sludge, so we did, and decided the place had enough good features to recommend it. Also, with only four days left on my lease, desperation may have played a part. I thought we may have to fight over the bedrooms but we both got our top choice; she, the one with a walk-in closet and Chronicles of Narnia wardrobe, I, the one with a fireplace and a private entrance.

So with Female Roommate and me and one SMU student, the total number of housemates was three, which is how it remains for now. There are still four rooms available that could be rented by crackheads, murderers, or first year students. At this point, I still have my own bathroom. Granted, it's a ridiculous bathroom with a bidet. I didn't even know bidets existed in North America. The previous tenants used it as an ash try. I want to plant flowers in it. The garage is dismal and unfinished but houses a bevy of treasures including a wheelchair and a pitchfork. I have been doing my best to steal useful furniture and fixtures from the spare rooms before anyone else moves in.

In educational news, I have returned to library school at the new NSCC campus on the Dartmouth waterfront. Getting to Dartmouth every day is a huge pain but I am getting my first hint of a tan this season traveling on the ferry every day. The school really is quite spectacular and high-tech with a fantastic view of the harbour.

Under Pressure

I'm back in the city after spending a portion of my March Break at home. I am not rejuvenated. I am not refreshed. I am wondering how I'm possibly going to finish all my school work in the next three weeks. A chat with one of my overachieving classmates yesterday did nothing to put me at ease. She was telling me how she had lost all her files for a project we have due on Friday. I misheard her say that all 17 pages were gone. I was like, "Wow, 17 pages." And she said, "Not 17. 70." 70 pages!! In order to maintain my sanity during this very stressful time, I like to pretend that she's actually a robot. As usual, I have not started the project yet. But as long as I can write 35 pages a day, I should be alright. This same girl is in my group for a project we have due at the end of term. I can't even imagine all the ways I'm going to disappoint her.

I couldn't possibly have done any less over March Break. My parents did some of my homework, I didn't do any. I was reunited with my least favorite family member, the cat. I accidentally let him OD on cat treats. He threw up twice in my parents room. They blamed it on all the turkey he ate. I said nothing. He'll probably never be allowed to have turkey again.

My parents returned me to the city on Friday. A quick inventory of my fridge reminded me why I was so excited to go home in the first place: All I had was some vodka and sour cream. I'm not proud of what I did next...

I'm just kidding. I went to the grocery store. It was a good trip because Nutella was on sale. It was a bad trip because I started a kiwi avalanche. Unsure of the proper supermarket etiquette for fallen fruit, I put the kiwis that I'd dropped in a bag and took them with me. Onlookers seemed satisfied that I hadn't compromised the integrity of the produce department and went about their shopping. Later on, when I found myself in a desserted aisle, I stashed the damaged goods behind the boxes of crackers. I hate people like me.

Undercover Librarian

Only a week back at library school and already we have a ridiculous assignment. We're to go "undercover" to a library and assess the quality of their reference desk staff. My partner and I get to go to the King's library. For my disguise, I will take off my King's ring and refrain from using any telling King's acronyms because we're only supposed to be community college students who don't know anything about research or paper writing. We also can't reveal what program we're actually in to avoid biased treatment. My partner and I have decided to pose as either paralegals or medical transcriptionists. I don't know how I'll keep all the lies straight. I hope the librarian is a real bitch and tells us we're not good enough to use King's library. That will put an end to our investigation and make our report easy to write.

I must say I was sadly misinformed as to what librarians do. I thought I would be taking classes in shushing people and having lessons in slowly removing my glasses and seductively shaking my hair loose from a deceptively prudish bun. But so far it's been all research and customer service. I am still enjoying the program and I like my classmates but I'm wondering if I might take next year to do something different. Perhaps another year abroad.


Facebook me! Check out facebook, as seen on The O.C! Everyone who's anyone is on it.

Crunch time

I've already eaten the 24 delicious chocolate days til Christmas from my advent calendar and it's only December 1st. I can't have chocolate lying around and not eat it!

The newlyweds stopped by to visit me at Wal-mart to gloat about their Caribbean cruise. They promised me a souvenir. I hope it's a cabana boy.

I spoke too soon about doing really well in school. That project (a presentation) I was supposed to do that required real work was really boring and time-consuming so I decided not to do it. To keep up appearances, I asked the teacher if I would be able to present my (non-existent) project later on. She said no and looked like she was ready to argue her position but I just nodded and tried not to reveal that this was the best news I'd heard all day. I wondered how long it would be before I resorted back to my old slacker ways. I held out for three months; that's pretty good. Just scraping by is my specialty. The next two weeks are going to be hellish.

Libraries 101

I thought my days of spending the afternoon in the Killam working on group projects were over but no, that's what I did today. This is the first assignment we've had that's going to require actual work so I'm not very happy about it. I've been enjoying the leisurely pace of this course. It's almost the end of the term and I've passed in every assignment, on time and done reasonably well. I haven't been doing this well in school since the early 90's.

Our class now has an intense rivalry going on with the second year library students. I'm not sure exactly how it started but they snubbed our pub crawl, then we didn't participate in their Halloween potluck and now they're boycotting our class t-shirts which read "Library Technicians are best bound in leather". The only time we manage to come together is when we have to do stuff with the Library Studies Masters students at Dal because we all really hate those snobs. They think they're so cool because they get to be librarians and we're only going to be library technicians. These get-togethers are supposed to be networking opportunities but we usually just gossip amongst ourselves. Librarians are a catty bunch.

Friday's library tour of Mount Saint Vincent went more smoothly than the one last week of the science and technology library where one person had a panic attack and someone else fainted. Community College is rough.

Not just for nerds anymore

I'm into my third week of library school. So far, so good. I take courses with wild titles like Descriptive Cataloguing and Acquisition and Circulation Procedures. Not everyone's idea of a good time but I'm just enough of a loser to find it interesting. My classmates are not as nerdy as I expected. The majority seem quite normal. We look much like your average university class.

I went to see the program director about transferring credits so that I could skip the Intro to Literature course. When he found out I had an English degree he said that I should probably be teaching the course. We both laughed, but I think he was actually serious.

In all of the classes everything is very fact based and there's a right way to do everything. As an English major, I'm used to just making shit up. But that crap won't fly with this crowd. There's no eccentric intellectuals here. Just sensible, hard-working folks. Thank god I still have all the nut jobs and dope fiends at Walmart to keep me entertained.

On Fridays we go on field trips to different libraries around the city. This week we're going to the medical library at the QEII. Everyone was very disappointed today to learn that we would not be visiting any prison libraries. Our teacher said she didn't know much about them either except that when the special alarm sounds, there's a room that you're supposed to run to and lock yourself in. I think that sounds pretty fun, but I have to admit I'm picturing the hot guy from Prison Break.

Overall, the program does not seem like it will be overly challenging but that's fine by me. It's unfortunate that it's two years but I think I'll definitely stick with it. The shame of me being a community college drop-out would be too great for my family who already speak in hushed tones about my stretches of unemployment and my continued association with Walmart.

NSCC and me

I've been accepted into the Library and Information Technology program at NSCC. I'm not too sure how I feel about it yet. I may be doing it for all the wrong reasons, but that doesn't mean it won't turn out well. Basically, I'm alleviating the stress of paying back my student loan by getting another one. I don't know what kind of people sign up for this course but there's a possibility that for the first time in my life, I'll be one of the coolest kids in my class.

Work is mind numbingly boring these days. I spent 45 minutes the other day sitting on the floor repackaging underwear. Although I must say that working in the lingerie department was a welcome change from the frantic pace at the ladies fitting room. If I have to tell one more woman she doesn't look fat in a bathing suit, I'm going to lose it. I don't know why they're asking me anyway. I wouldn't ask a stranger in Wal-Mart how I looked in a swim suit. And I'm a terrible liar too. I've tried to come up with a handful of vague but encouraging responses that I can use in most situations. People who look good, know they look good. If you have to ask, you probably don't.

The men's fitting room is much less hectic and men are much more docile shoppers than women in general, but you will get the occasional pervert asking you to measure his inseam. So right now I'm happy to be assigned to the lingerie department. I invented a game to help make putting boxed bras away fun. It's called "Guilty" and works like this: I take a quick glance at the model on the bra box that I need to return to the shelf and pretend that she's commited a crime(because so many crimes are commited by smiling women wearing only bras). Then I go through the aisles of boxed bras as if they were a police line-up and try to identify the suspect. This process takes a long time and makes my very simple job a bit harder. But unfortunately, the game is getting easier and less fun now because they've all become so familiar to me. I feel like I know them. I've named some of them. I might be going crazy. I think I'll let the madness take me. It'll be easier that way.

I tried carrying snacks around in my vest as tasty entertainment and to keep my morale up but fruit flies kept following me. I hate my job.