making a difference: librarian style

sometimes the smallest things make the largest difference. i've heard that so many times, but over the past year or so this is something that i have truly come to believe.  without this belief, i don't think i'd be able to really be happy at any job.

i might not know the difference i'm making each day and i guess to be fair, i might never know if i really did make a difference ... but in my occasional moment of optimism, i like to believe it's happening.

if you ever get to the point where you also question the difference you might be making (when my point happens, my mother always reminds me ... hence the blogpost), remind yourself of the starfish story (youtube video below - thanks mama gill for the link!).

it's a story i'd heard before at camp cheerio as a camper and counselor, but thinking about it as an adult was a different experience altogether. it transformed from being a sweet tale of doing good things for others (side note: i didn't always get the meaning of motivational stories when i was younger) to being something that really inspired me.

as a teen librarian, will i find the cure for cancer? no. will i sign bills into law that will give equal rights to all? no. will i figure out a way to make republicans, democrats, penguins, and llamas all get along? to borrow an expression from my dear friend cher horowitz from clueless, as if.

but i'm still making a difference. i don't exactly know what difference it is and i'll probably never see it, but just like the wind, i know it's there. (too much sap? apologies.)

[excuse the semi-strange photos of the short shorts and old people.]

also, just for the record, i won't cure cancer, make laws, or figure out how to make political world peace. but you can bet your bottom dollar that i can find you a book about it. 

enough reading my ramblings. go find your starfish and give it a toss.

warnings for my future husband: part 2

i know, i know. warnings part two ... really?  maybe instead of "warnings for my future husband" the post should be entitled "tips for scaring away any potential suitors."

but nonetheless, i've thought of a few more warnings that i want to add to the previous warnings list. and yes it's completely necessary because as i discussed with my dear friend g-dubs this past sunday over lunch, one day i'll make my future husband sign these things just so we're clear that they aren't surprises.  as he explained to me, half of marriages end in divorce while the other half end in death (something i thought was quite hysterical ... not the death part, but the entire expression).  however, with my meek attempts at transparency, hopefully my (somewhere in the distant future) marriage will end once we're old and shriveled all up like raisins.

here are three additional warnings:

1.  i don't always make my bed in the morning.  HOWEVER, i absolutely without a doubt must have my bed made prior to getting in it at night.  this often results in me making the bed around midnight only to throw the covers back a few minutes later, but still.  the bed must be made, but not necessarily at the crack of dawn.

2.  apparently i have a lot of nervous energy.  this may result in me tearing up napkins or the pieces of paper that hold silverware together at restaurants.  i don't consciously think of it as nervous energy.  i just know my six-year-old sized hands need to be occupied (but obviously not with touching food since we all know that doesn't happen).  i promise to not leave these little pieces of paper trash all over the table in hopes to not embarrass you in front of the waiters.

3.  i know that my beloved YA novels are works of fiction, but if i bring up katniss, dumbledore, or princess mia as if we just hung out at the mall, just go with it (the same goes for attending midnight movie premieres for these book adaptations -- i'll go see a blood and guts snoozefest with you if you go with me). the quickest way for the backside of my hand to meet your cute little cheek is to remind me that these are "just books" or that the characters "aren't real" ... they're real to me so just step back.

these three little additions to my list might appear silly, but i promise you this, darling husband of mine: if you cut me some slack in these areas, you'll never hear me complain about that toilet seat that i'm sure you'll leave up.  you learn to embrace the awkwardness that consumes my life and i'll embrace the fact that i should always check the seat pre-bathroom usage (or get used to swimming in the toilet bowl).

deal?  good.

warnings for my future husband - megan edition

earlier today i read an insightful little article (write up? blog post? something ...) from thought catalog called warnings for my future husband.  if you haven't read it yet, you should.  the writing is one part snarky, one part witty, and one thousand parts honest.

not only did i thoroughly enjoy the post, but it started my brain spinning on some warnings for my own future husband.  and yes, contrary to my current boyfriendless state (thanks for the reminder, grandma), i do believe that somewhere out there my future husband is waiting.  obviously waiting very patiently, but nonetheless, waiting.  and possibly in a mail-order form, but we'll cross that terrifying bridge if (not when, but IF) we come to it.

so here, my fine blog readers, are some of my warnings for my future husband:

[disclaimer: i said some because goodness knows i've left things out ... whether it was so i don't appear as quirky as i am, or because i've forgotten about it, i just think we should be clear: these are just a sampling of my warnings]

1.  i'm going to dress my dog up no matter how many times you remind me she's not a doll.  i know she's not a doll.  i'm not that dumb.  however, nothing in the fact that she is a dog dictates without a doubt that she can't be dressed up.  especially if she likes it.  which she does.  but you don't have to like it.  in fact, feel free to tease me about it.  but just know that every holiday (and some non-holidays) will involve an outfit.

2.  when i make a to-do list that includes things like "get dressed" and "go to sleep," don't feel pressure to do the same.  in fact, please don't.  too many to-do lists around the house will surely overwhelm me.  however, i get a certain amount of satisfaction (translation: a tremendous amount) from crossing these menial tasks off my list so please just let me be.

3.  when we go to the beach, you're going to sleep on the couch if you don't brush your feet off before getting in the bed.  sand in my bed makes for a beyond grumpy megan and trust me, you don't want that.  no one does.  so do the world a favor and wipe your feet ... or pack a spare blanket for the couch.

4.  diet pepsi is not (let me repeat: NOT) the same as diet coke no matter how similar they look.  you don't believe me?  let me replace your next beer with some interestingly colored urine and then try to tell me that something that looks the same is equal in pleasure.

5.  i'm going to call my mother every day, sometimes twice a day (sorry mom, but you know it's true). and if we get into a fight (regardless of whose fault it was), i'm probably going to have to call my mom again.  however, rest assured that she knows better than anyone that i am irrational and overly dramatic. these phone calls will only help your case that you married a lunatic.

6.  i'm going to ask dumb questions about most everything you watch, but that's only because i care.  if you put up with my dumb questions (or cease complaining when i'd rather go shopping), i won't complain when you don't want to watch jersey shore, the bachelor, or sex and the city reruns.  i do ask, however, that when you see that i'm crying while watching my romcoms, you sit down and pretend to care.  or at the very least throw me the tissue box.

the end.  now it's your turn -- what warnings do you have for your future (or current) husband?

             

slow down life!

in the words of my father, HOLY COW.  life has all of a sudden started snowballing at warp speed and everything is happening really quickly.  which isn't necessarily a bad thing since typically, when given the time, i figure out how to get out of things i've committed to.  not always (eh...maybe?), but it's not completely atypical for me to panic after thinking about things for a while.  i just scare easily i guess.  

i think i'll blame that character flaw on being a scorpio, but in actuality i have no idea if that's ever even attributed to scorpios.  but whatever ... if you want to take the time to look it up and share, please do.  otherwise, i scare easily because i'm a scorpio.

goodbye notes from elementary school friends.
so precious.

anyways, within the past 10 days i've been offered two jobs that happened to be down the road from one another (only one of which i could accept, obviously), had my lessons observed for certification purposes, set up apartment searches in my new town (ahhh NEW TOWN), finished my thesis research, and officially finished my school library internship.

close up of one of the notes.
too cute.

in the next 10 days i'll have picked an apartment (or a cardboard box), taken (and passed?) my comprehensive exam, and submitted my first draft of my thesis.  or at least that's the plan.  

as an unashamed planner extraordinaire, this all seems so fast.  and maybe that's how big girl jobs happen.  maybe you don't find out 6 months ahead of time with plenty of idle time to relax.  or maybe you do and my snowball just started rolling early.

and obviously i was searching for jobs to get everything started quickly, but i guess i just didn't think i'd be able to find one so really it was just practice looking through sites.  but now that i've started crossing that bridge into adulthood, my life is going into autopilot in order to get everything done that i have to get done in the next month ... because you know, in order to keep the job i was offered i do have to graduate and get certified, and obviously that requires the successful completion of comp exams and thesis research (both of which completely underwhelm me).  

hunky, right?
photo credit:
http://wallpapersunlimited.blogspot.com/2009/11/
aladdin-wallpapers.html

and the packing up my apartment thing also needs to be thrown in the planning scheme ... which is a migraine waiting to happen.

but instead of freaking out, which i'd really really like to do, i'm going to go watch aladdin.  because the disney channel is playing it right now.  and aladdin is my cartoon crush, street rat or not.

all vacuum bags are not created equal.

since the world was going to end last saturday, i didn't bother vacuuming the rest of my apartment once my vacuum bag filled up.  i found out (the hard way) that you aren't supposed to pull the crap out of the bag...you're supposed to get a new bag.  ugh.  still trying to wash the feeling of all that crap off my hands.  and you know how i am about hands.  bleh.

anyways, since i was house sitting last week, the vacuum just sat in the middle of the floor, sans a bag, waiting for me to figure out how to fix it.  i had made a quick run to the grocery store last weekend when i thought i'd have a clean apartment in case the rapture really was going down, but when i didn't find any bags immediately i decided if i was peacing out of earth saturday night, i wasn't going to waste my last precious hours sweaty and up to my elbows (literally) in vacuum bag gunk.

so here we are, a week later, and i finally made it home and decided i needed to tackle the beast that was the vacuum bag.  having never replaced it (which is gross because i've had it for years...but, umm, the last time it needed replacing i just pulled the gunk out of it because i thought that's what you did. it turns out that's not what you do...), i went to walmart because i thought the store that has everything is bound to have vacuum bags.  and have them they did.

this picture doesn't do the options justice.

roughly a million different versions of vacuum bags (luckily some options seemed to be out of stock so at least my options were limited to 999,987) taunted me as i stood clueless in the aisle praying for one of them to start glowing like things do in the movies when you're supposed to pick that option.  how was i supposed to know that it wouldn't be obvious which bag was for me?  and of course, since my vacuum has been with me since undergrad, it wasn't on the floor for me to check and see what bags went with it.  piece of crap.

as i'm standing there mulling over the choices (at least i could remember the brand name), i couldn't help but think if i had been more careful pulling the gunk out of the bag and not ripped it right at the end (i was so close to having an empty bag), i wouldn't be in this situation where the choices were endless.  that's right.  i was so overwhelmed i was wishing to have vacuum gunk on my hands again.  you know it's bad when you'd rather reach into a vacuum bag that hasn't been emptied in god knows how long instead of read the back of all the packages with the tiny print and guess what vacuum your parents bought you a thousand years ago.  growing up and doing adult things like replacing vacuum bags is so overrated.  i didn't feel mature and accomplished.  i felt confused and irritated.

why can't there just be a one-size-fits-all vacuum bag?  and why is vacuum such a hard word to spell?  to this day i have to google it to figure it out.  i can quote endless lines from all kinds of crappy movies, but i can't remember how to spell vacuum without the help of the internet.  sad.  also, the more you type the word vacuum and search different spellings online, the more the word looks weird.  i don't recommend this if you don't want to second-guess yourself forever.

lucky for me, the vacuum gods were at least kind of looking down on me (even if they were still laughing at my vacuum bag incident last weekend) and the option i selected turned out to fit on my vacuum.  granted, the bag will probably catch fire or something else terrible once i vacuum tomorrow, but for now it's megan-1, vacuum-0.  pray it stays that way.