Librarian by Day....and at Night

I love reading...and i'm not just satying that!

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robinbig:

femme-in-floral:

Reblogging fat Olympic athletes as self care.

If you wouldn’t post someone like Holley to your #fitspo blog, then it’s obvious that you care about aesthetics more than actual fitness.

Fat does not equal unhealthy.

She had an awesome True Life episode as well. She was a varsity football player in high school!

People can talk all the smack that they want and it doesn’t change the fact that she could pick you up over her head and throw you down on the ground so hard you bounce…and probably with one hand.

I want my nieces to be her when they grow up. 

Except for the hair…it would take untold amounts of chemical and several professionals, every day, to get their hair that straight. Assuming it’s even possible.

(Source: creativeconflagration, via eviloverlibrarian)

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Dead Pens

I see my co-worker sitting at the information desk pull a pen out of the drawer.  She draws about 20 circles, shakes the pen and draws 20 more.  She puts it back in the drawer.  The minute she lets go of the drawer  I open it and throw it out.

She looks at me and I look at her…the only thing missing is the whistling noise that you hear in westerns right before the cowboys draw  their guns for the shootout.

Round One.

I would like to say that was it, but the process continues for pens 2 and 3.

It’s a relief when pen 4 works.

When she goes for her break I’m going to check the other pens in the drawer.

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I might lose my best-aunt-in-the-world title over this….”glittery putty”  + aunt in bathroom = unauthorized haircut

I might lose my best-aunt-in-the-world title over this….”glittery putty” + aunt in bathroom = unauthorized haircut

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Eating Habits

I’m constantly fascinated by the difference in eating habits between  my nieces.

My sister and I are sitting at the kitchen table and she is (attempting to) making Honey Bunny a catnip toy. Yes, the picture from Pinterest is cute, but the instructions also included a SEWING MACHINE.

My nieces drift in to see what we’re doing.

Big Sister – I don’t like that.

Me – It’s not for you; your Mom is making a treat for Honey Bunny. It’s not food.

Big Sister – I still don’t like that.

 Little Sister– Can I have a bite?

<Apparently, while mentally sizing out her portion, she hasn’t heard a word I said.>

Me – It’s not for you;  your Mom is making a treat for Honey Bunny. It’s not food.

Little Sister –Oh…does that mean no?

Me – Yes. We only eat things that are food.

Big Sister to Little Sister – You can have mine; I don’t like it.

The “It’s not food.” angle doesn’t appear to be working.

Me – It’s a present for Honey Bunny and not for either of you to eat. Would anyone like some watermelon?

Little Sister – YEAH!

Big Sister – I don’t like that.

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Full Head

I’m at the salon getting a “full head” of color; I’m hiding the white and covering the “cool” (actually weird) highlights I got for the half-marathon.

On either side of me are blonds (chemically created) getting a “full head” of touch up highlights. The woman on the right looks great; the woman on the left let her roots grow in longer than I would mine.

My head is covered in dye and the clock ticking down. I’m not sure when each of them started but neither are half done yet.

I say I don’t get highlights because thy are too expensive. True, but really I don’t have the patience or interest in having my head surrounded by foil and *then* wait for the dye to set.

There so much about the price of beauty, what goes ignored is the time for beauty. Yup, I want to spend as little time as possible, on a Sunday, in here.

This is why I leave with wet hair.

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Breakfast

Co-worker: Is that your breakfast?

Me: Yes.

<Yes, a diet coke with lime and an orange is not ideal, but it’s better than nothing.>

Co-worker: Won’t you get hungry later?

Me: Yes.

 This is a conversation that leaves us both feeling slightly confused.

Co-worker: Why eat that for breakfast if you know you’re going to be hungry later??

 Me: Yes, I *am* going to get hungry again later today….this is one of the things that separate people from pythons and other scary snakes that swallow rodents whole.  Eating more than once a day. Yes, I have crossed breakfast off my to-do list….but I’ve already penciled in “lunch” so I’ve got it covered.

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Running Style

I am a textbook “Heel Strike”. There are days when I expect to look behind me a see a trail of heel prints in my wake. I rotate between two pairs of shoes, so that each pair (I have them divided into Even and Odd) has a day to recover.

The man beside was not.

I couldn’t hear a single step over the buzz of the treadmill.

He could run across a field of bubble-wrap….without popping anything.

I wanted to stare, but if I look away from in front of me for longer than 5 seconds I’m going to fall off my machine.

I’m not sure how he was doing it, but a chi running DVD is going to be in my future.

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Not Exactly Fifa

My sister invited me to my niece’s soccer game. She (definitely NOT my sister) loves her shoes. It’s a combination of game and practice. If the Brazil-Germany game had been played on this field, at half time the mothers would have had a meeting and agreed that the Brazil-side should have a chance to score….which is different from Fifa-style football where there is no “self-esteem” being nurtured.

A man approaches me:

Him: Who are you hear to see? I’m with my daughter.

<He points to a little  girl who is on the wrong side of the fine line separating nose-picking from frontal lobotomy.>

Me: I’m here with my sister and niece.

<I search the field for the next Mia Hamm (except Canadian) and…oh there she  is, sitting on the ground putting her sock back on*.>

We discuss the Fifa finals and contemplate the TV watching implications of the next tournament  being played in Russia.  Hmm.

I start to think that he might be flirting with me. Oh My God. We chat and chat, and I’m trying to figure out how to ask for his phone number. When panic erupts on the field. Someone has lost a front tooth and can’t find it for the tooth fairy!

Him: I’ll see you next week.

<Was that a question or a statement? I’m not sure>

 Me: OK

I realise too  late that it’s  “NO, NOT OK” because I will be at work and nose picker and can’t-keep-her-shoes-on will be playing in different places against different teams. Sigh. Well at least the game wasn’t as boring as I expected.

 

*Why would someone take off her shoe and sock during a soccer game? “I thought a ladybug flew down my sock and was tickling my big toe.”

Filed under FIFA little girls playing soccer

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Missing Pieces

When I get ready to pack my lunch this morning, I have trouble finding a container. Where did they all good? I remember throwing a few out, but not THAT many.  Instead I have a few food containers and A TON of lids. Huh? How did I end up with so many bottomless tops? When I get home I’m going to have to play the matching game and throw out the extras….after I buy a few more containers. I buy cheap stuff (a bad habit from my pre-dishwasher days when I’d often throw something out instead of deal with it) so it’s not a huge loss.

Now there is just one more item in the 498th   circle of hell known as “lost/missing pieces” which is full of pen lids, contact lenses, earrings, gloves and socks.

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Summer - The Not Good Part

I hate summer clothes. I hate shopping for summer clothes. I think I am the only woman who would like to see sleeves….thanks to over air conditioning, there is  no “summer” in the library I work in.

I am too lazy to start my day thinking “Are my underarms hairy?  Am I good to go? Maybe I can just keep my arms down”. Typing that sentence is more time that I want to spend thinking about the hairiness (I’m having an arms down  day) of my underarms.

My sister had her underarms “LAZERED.” But there is worse…..

While sitting in her backyard discussing this issue with her neighbors I found out that T has had everything lazered. EVERYTHING. The conversation went like:

T: I’ve had everything done.

My Sister and I: EVERYTHING?

T: Everything

My  sister and I: EVERYTHING?

 After T leaves we’re still in shock. EVERYTHING.

 My sister just called to tell me EVERYTHING. Gawd, I love that woman.

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Did I Write That?

Someone recently reblogged (THANK-YOU!) a post of mine. I didn’t recognize the title, so I looked to see what it was. My first thought was “Did I write that?” I must have because I don’t have an evil twin (I’m pretty sure) who is out there writing on my blog. This being the most boring and least lucrative form of identity theft that I can think of.

But it’s got me thinking about what else I’ve written in the past.

I’m jealous of people who kept old papers/projects/assignments/etc from their university days. Sadly, everything of mine is gone.

I would pay $200 for *anything* from my Introduction to Women’s Studies course. Gawd, I cringe when I think about what I would have written. Ah, back when I was 20 and things like “paradigm shift” were part of my (painfully pretentious) every day vocabulary.