Still here

work
Things have been quiet in these parts lately. Sorry for that. I'm still trying to get a handle on my new schedule.

Yes, I started my new job at EBSCO a week ago Monday. So far, so good. It's very different from any job I've held before. In just about every aspect. First, I don't have to deal with people. Since I'm still training, my Team Leader will come into my cube once or twice a day, or whenever I e-mail her with a problem--which, at this point, is still frequent because I don't know what the hell I'm doing. But otherwise, that's it.

I am, however, even without people, busy all day. Read article. Write abstract. Index. Repeat for 8 hours. It sounds like there isn't a lot of variety, but there really is. The periodicals are so different. I've worked on Health Magazine, New York Magazine, Kitchen Garden, Golf World, the Northerner (a paper out of northern Saskatchewan) and the Village Voice. Today I'll look at Education Week and Horticulture. So, essentially, I get paid to read and write all day. And on days when I have Golf World, it's work and it's hard and I hate golf and why do they have to use such goofy language and why isn't there a glossary somewhere--who knows this stuff anyway?! But New York was interesting, and the Village Voice has been a hoot. So, we'll see.

The best part of my job? For eight hours, EBSCO utterly owns my ass. I take a half-hour for lunch and that's it. No Bloglines, no personal e-mail, no Ravelry. But I don't take anything home with me. The other 16 hours are my own. Unfortunately, I'm dreaming about indexing, but that could be the cold medication. Yes, I've caught the obligatory it's-fall-and-I-don't-qualify-for-sick-time-yet cold, which has also put a damper on things.

Mostly, though, I'm just tired when I get home, and since I've looked at a computer screen all day, I haven't wanted to sit down and write. It will get better as I get used to it, but I need to build new routines for myself. Which is hard. Amazingly, the house hasn't fallen apart yet, and I"m still cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner for The Beloved and myself. Go me!

I've got to run--time to make the mandatory 7:30 trip through the Starbucks drive-through before heading down to work. But I promise to post this weekend if I'm not serving as the earthly vessel for the snot-monster from hell--I have knitting things happening!

Interviews

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Thank you all for your positive thoughts and supportive e-mails. Interviewing is never fun. In fact, it's nerve-wracking. Last week, everything was helped along by the fact that summer decided to return and so it was over 90 degrees both days I had to look and act presentable. When there's no air conditioning at work. Oh--and the air conditioning in my car is broken. Since I have long subscribed to the philosophy of "If you look good, you sing good," (thanks Mr. P), I really felt like I was going into my interviews at a disadvantage.

EBSCO was Tuesday. I actually felt that the interview went well. The woman who conducted it was engaging and likable which really put me at ease. I had also filled out an application before I went into the interview, meaning I got to sit for a few minutes in the air conditioned reception area. This allowed some time for the sweat stains under my arms to fade. (Have I mentioned how put out I was by the summer weather in late September? Sheesh!) After the interview was T H E T E S T, which actually wasn't too bad. I needed to abstract some articles (duh), but they were short. And then I needed to proofread some abstracts, which was hard because I tend to over-think. I could handle the spelling errors and simple grammar, like misplaced apostrophes and commas. However, the abstracts made use of lots of passive tense. Which I hate. My father trained me to write actively--which was a great trait to have as a Political Science major (passive tense takes up space and politicians need brief documents)--but it's something I always check for in my own writing. Sometimes you can't get around it, but often you can and it makes for a stronger document. Well. I was told not to rewrite, just to proof. Which was torture because I really just wanted to put everything into active voice. I have seriously worried about this since my interview on Tuesday.

On Thursday I had the interview for the Young Adult/Reference position at a local public library. I felt OK about the interview, the director was very nice, and the people I met were very nice. It seems, though, that it's currently a situation of the lunatics running the asylum. They've seriously had to call the police in the past week to deal with unruly YAs in the parking lot. It made me nervous, particularly since programming is NOT my strong suit, and because the job description included no mention of combat pay. This presented a bit of a dilemma, because I really, really, really want full-time work. But I really, really, really didn't want to deal with 50 kids doing wheelies in the parking lot on a daily basis. Plus have to work every other Saturday.

However, this has all been made moot. Because this morning EBSCO called with a job offer. Hooray! In November I will begin using my mad library skillz in a corporate setting writing abstracts for a ginormous publisher and purveyor of databases. Have I sold out? Perhaps. But, you know, I'm OK with that. Because I think going back to a stable work environment after about 18 months of anything-but-stable will be a good thing. It will also, eventually, enable me to buy more yarn and fiber and perhaps even afford to take the occasional class. (Laura's post about her class at WEBS has made me insanely jealous and I'm terrified of color work.) Oh, and a new wheel. Mine is fine, except it doesn't travel well. I either need a smaller wheel or a bigger car because I want to be able to spin in the company of like-minded folk. The cats are great and all, but they aren't much for conversation.

Speaking of which, Polly seems to be on the mend. We're all touching wood that whatever has been wrong with her stays gone this time around....

What happened to fall?

Polly
So, it's supposed to be close to 90 degrees today. September 25. Never mind the fact that I don't like it when the temperature tops 80 in the summer. It's fall now. I want the leaves to change and I want to wear sweaters. I do not want to be sweating like a water buffalo during my interview this afternoon.

Yes, apparently EBSCO works fast. I'll be interviewing with them at 3:00 this afternoon. According to the Humanities Abstracting manager, I'll fill out paperwork when I get there (application, references, background check--all very standard). Then I'll meet with her and whoever else is on the interviewing team. Then, after the interview, I'll have an abstracting test and a proofing test. Needless to say, sleep was elusive last night. I feel like I'm going to a final exam for which I failed to study. Not that the process doesn't make perfect sense--I'm applying to be an Abstractor. They need to know if I can do it or not. It's just created the greatest opportunity for my social anxiety and my inner grade pig to become fast friends. The Beloved will be glad when this is over. And, quite frankly, so will I.

Whining out of the way, I hope this goes well. I mean, I can always stay where I am, but I'm tired of working two low-paying jobs without benefits 45-60 minutes away from my house. And I'm tired of waiting for the college to step up and "do the right thing" by either paying me a decent hourly wage or by giving me enough hours so that I qualify for benefits. It's like they think librarianship is a form of masochism. Which maybe it is. It all just makes me so very tired. Which makes me feel whiny. So I'll stop. Really.

Thank you for your comments about Polly and getting a second opinion. It makes me feel a little less mental. We saw yet another vet yesterday (the third we've seen at this practice), and no mention of Kitty Diet Food was made. They wanted to do an ultrasound, but she's not currently holding enough in her bladder to make that possible, so we're back to an extended round of antibiotics (2 weeks instead of 10 days). I may let them do the ultrasound after this round of drugs, just to make sure they haven't missed anything. The other option is for her to get a referral to Internal Medicine, which doesn't thrill me at all. However, none of us really want to go through this for a third time if we can help it. In the meantime, I'm trying to see if there's anyone in the area who specializes in large breed cats so that I've got someone in place for a second opinion if necessary.

If I'm this bad about my cat, does it mean I'll be absolutely psychotic if we ever have kids?

FO--Angel's Rest Socks

finished objects
Holy crap--a complete pair of socks! Yes, you are in the right place.

FO_AngelsRest6.JPG

Angel's Rest Socks
Yarn: Yarn Pirate Merino Sock Yarn in Rum Runner from the Yarn Pirate Booty Club
Needles: Susan Bates US size 1/2.25 mm (5 7-inch DPNs)

I finished these babies up on Friday and am wearing them today because I really needed a pick-me-up.

FO_AngelsRest4.JPG

Pretty, aren't they? If I was a little more diligent, knit faster, and had more money to spend on stash, I'd look at having only hand-knit socks in my drawer. Alas, that'll take a while...


Sorry for the craptastic quality of the pictures. Now that The Beloved and I are actually blogging about wine, I'm working on getting a better camera and a light tent. I may end up making my own light tent, but the camera just isn't doing what I need it to, hence the desire for an upgrade.

In other news, this week will be busy. On Friday I got two calls for job interviews--one for a Young Adult/Reference position at a public library a couple of towns over from mine (20 minute commute--yay!); the other with *gasp* EBSCO, home of the uber library database. The EBSCO job is in the editorial department as a Humanities Abstractor. Two very different opportunities, but both are full-time, which the current job(s) is(are) not. Imagine--health insurance and retirement plans again....it seems almost too good to be true.

And it might be, after all, these are only interviews. But it is nice to dream. And to make the first cut. So far, one appointment is scheduled for next Thursday and I'm still waiting to hear on the other. I'm hoping they can see me on Tuesday afternoon--otherwise, it looks like I'll probably have to wait 'till next week because this week is overflowing with crazy-insanity.

Which, naturally, means it's time for more fun with cats. (Warning: discussion of cat urinary health to follow.)

Polly had been doing so well. We've changed their food to a urinary tract health formula (one you can buy in the grocery store--not prescription), and the little demons seem to love it. The bowl has been empty within a half-hour of feeding time. So, when she started whining more, I assumed it was EBS (Empty Bowl Syndrome) and didn't pay it much mind. Until yesterday when I went into the bathroom and it looked like we were performing ritual sacrifices in our bathtub. Seriously--if CSI comes over and luminols the bathroom, we'll have some explaining to do.

Since it appears the infection has recurred, I called the vet this morning and will have to leave work early to get her to the one afternoon appointment they had. Le sigh. This means I will have to forgo new shoes for my interview. Oh well. I'm wondering if any of you have ever brought an animal to a different vet for a second opinion or if that officially makes me a crazy cat lady?

Here's my problem: Our vet is convinced that we need to put Polly on Prescription Weight Loss cat food. And I won't argue that she's overweight. However, I've been reading more postings from people who own large breed cats (I joined the Maine Coon Cat Lovers group on Ravelry--we were told Polly was a Norwegian Forest/Maine Coon cross at the shelter, though she really looks more the Forest Cat, she's got behavioral traits peculiar to both breeds), and it seems to me that while Polly could lose her "udder" (flabby lower abdomen), she's really not all that far outside of the norm for her breed(s). Her last weigh-in was 17.5 lbs, which reflects half a pound lost since February. I'm just not convinced she needs to be a 14 pound cat.

Anyway--I'll put her on Prescription Urinary Health cat food if that's what her body requires. It will be expensive, but it will beat hell out of taking her to the vet every two weeks and having to hogtie and drug her three times a day. I need a little more convincing about the Kitty Weight Watchers stuff, though. (The Beloved is a bit of a conspiracy theorist, and the fact that we can only buy this special diet food from the vet makes him very, very wary.) And if that's all I get from the vet today, I'm seriously considering taking her for a second opinion--preferably with a vet who specializes, or at least has decent experience with large breed cats, if such a thing exists. Am I nuts?

Workstudy question of the day

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(A note: Library workstudies provide clerical and general circulation assistance)

WS: Hey, Saisquoi. The phone at the circulation desk was ringing. What should I do?

Me: Um, you should answer it.

WS: Oh.... really?

It's the little things that'll drive you to drink...

Why there is nothing to report

misc.
KelInCal hit the nail on her head with her comment regarding my previous post. Yes, I love The King. But, yes, I was also trying to distract you all from my utter lack of productivity.

Here's what's been going on (unfortunately, it's not knitting) ...

Resident Sibling is still with us. She has been unemployed for most of the summer. It's gotten really old, really fast. Her story? She's trying to join the Army, but needed to lose weight so they would take her. So she goes to the gym twice a day with her recruiter. And doesn't do anything else except eat my food and watch The Beloved's TV set and play Sudoku. Sounds lovely, doesn't it? And, in fact, like something I would enjoy doing--only someone needs to pay the bills to keep us in this lap of luxury. So I've been working extra hours at my church library job, plugging away at the cataloging, unprocessing, and reprocessing the collection. It's slow going, but I'm beginning to see progress.

Unfortunately, all this work is beginning to take its toll in more than one way. First, I have a lot of negative feelings regarding this job. When the organization originally hired me in 2004, I was a full-time, salaried employee with things like health care and a retirement account. Last summer (2006), the organization lost half of its funding and I lost my job. Granted, it was my choice to leave when I did instead of hanging out waiting for the funds to literally dry up, but it still would not have been my first choice.

I agreed to go back and finish cataloging the collection so that it was accessible via the world wide web. After all, my replacement job at the college is only half-time. So, last year, I worked 20 hours/week at the college and 12 hours/week at the church library. It was OK, aside from my bitterness and resentfulness. This summer I did not have the college job as I'm only employed during the school year. So I upped my hours at the church to 20 hours/week. The volunteers who are supposed to have been helping appear to have vanished during the summer. So, while I've gotten a lot done, I could have done more had others followed through. More bitterness. More resentfulness. Then, two weeks ago, give or take--crisis sets in:

Tendinitis.

I've had bouts of mild to severe tendinitis in my right wrist since college. Then, it would manifest during finals week when my life consisted of writing 20 hours a day on computer or in blue book. By the time I was finished with exams, I was unable to hold a pencil. It's not that bad right now, but it bothers me enough to make knitting a questionable activity. At first, the pain wasn't so bad--but I noticed goofiness in my tension. Which resulted in frogging half of the second Angel's Rest sock. There was some cursing involved, but not too much. After that, I thought I'd take a little break to see if extra rest would help. Nope. Between cataloging and removing labels and packing tape from books, my right wrist didn't get any better and I began to notice pain in my left wrist. Oh, joy. So knitting and spinning have been out of the question due to pain and/or lack of control.

This does not make for a happy Saisquoi. Neither, truth be told, does my unemployed Resident Sibling. So I've been an absolute joy to be around, as you might imagine.

In the midst of all this misery, though, I've discovered something that desperately needed doing ...

Housework.

Doing a little bit every day, my house is almost presentable. Which is good, because in a moment of absolute fucking insanity I decided to host the Labor Day Weekend Family Sunday dinner. It's the Sunday before The Beloved's 40th birthday, and I thought it would be the easiest way to ensure a family birthday party. I did the final count yesterday and if everyone shows up, there will be 25 people in my house. Jesus Christ.

And because one party isn't enough, I'm planning a surprise party for the following day. That will be for our friends. Dude--it seemed practical at the time because there was no way I could fit all of our family and friends into our tiny little house. Actually, though, I'm planning a very low-key get-together for Monday. Particularly since I'm not telling The Beloved about it at all. My plan is just to have people show up. Surprise! I'm a little concerned that he'll want to kill me, but hell--you only turn 40 once. And he bet me I wouldn't throw him a party. Hah. See--he wanted one. Otherwise he never would have baited me like that. Of course, since I am a Virgo, I may be up till three in the morning the night before with an impromptu ice sculpture....

On a happier note: I'm back at the college as of last week. So, I may cut my hours back at the church. I was also very cautious last week regarding the amount of time spent at the computer or doing things that may cause stress to my wrists, with the happy result of being able to finally turn the heel on the Angel's Rest sock last night. Today I'll hopefully be able to pick up the gusset stitches after dinner and get some work done on the foot. Particularly since this month's Yarn Pirate Booty Club shipment arrived yesterday. Pictures in a couple of days--if I finish the current sock, that is...

One Down!

socks


One to go. Don't worry. It is, in fact, started. Even though I bought more sock yarn yesterday. *Sigh*

I'm currently in the midst of a major dilemma, though. This weekend is the Knit & Crochet Show up the road in Manchester. I had planned on going simply because Grafton Fibers will be one of the vendors. And, to be honest, I covet that fiber. I dream about it at night. My spinning is probably not at a point to do it justice at all, but I could keep it in my fiber basket and pat it. (Stephanie spun some up recently. Look here and here to gaze upon hers.) Besides, driving 45 minutes to go and look at yarn and fiber-y things is a perfectly reasonable way to spend a Saturday.

Except. I just found out I have a job interview next week for a position in the town in which I reside. Yes, Virginia, that would mean zero commute for Saisquoi. It's only half-time, but zero commute. I could ride my bike to work, weather permitting. Or the moped :) This is very appealing. Unfortunately, all of my "professional" looking dresses were purchased prior to the rather drastic weight loss I've experienced in the last six months or so. They are all rather large. I've got some summery dresses that fit (after all, I had to wear something in Chicago), but they really don't work for this particular situation. Halter dress at an interview? I don't think so. It is a librarian job, after all.

So, what's a girl to do? Get by with what I've got and go buy beautiful fiber? Or spend Saturday looking for something "appropriate" and not ill-fitting? I can't believe I'm actually bitching about the prospect of buying clothes. I'd just mentally allocated those funds elsewhere and am a little put out about the change in plans...

In which Saisquoi exposes her bourgeoisie sensibilities...

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This is the view from my office. Through my door, I look out across a space called The Gallery. There is generally art in The Gallery, and at this time of year, we have student shows going on. This, I believe, is the final senior show of the year as graduation takes place on May 12. The Gallery is located at the front of the library; one must walk through The Gallery in order to get to the books, labs, computers, and other sources of information. Anyway. The View:

Note: Please excuse the crappy photos. If I had but known this would be waiting for me at opening, I would have remembered my real camera instead of recording this with my freakin' phone. Oh well--I'm grateful that the phone was charged!
Yes, that would be graffiti. All. Over. The. Walls. Apparently, that went up as part of the opening last night. Rumor has it that the professors helped. Ah, art school. Here's a close-up of one of the images:

Elegant, isn't it? Now, I do actually like some urban art based on tagging, etc. Unfortunately, I do not find any of this aesthetically pleasing. It looks like Bart Simpson took hold of a can of spray paint and went to town. Oh, and we're not exactly urban out here in NH. Particularly in the extremely rural town where the school is located. One more shot just for fun:

The Artist's Statement. Rock. On. At least this one wasn't a Wikipedia Entry.

Last night was a full moon. Maybe I should just leave it at that and go back to my knitting....

It's not even a full moon

scarves
But it is the end of the semester. Maybe it's the same sort of thing.

So. Yesterday the nice young man who services the projector installed in our conference room (the closest thing we have to a "high-tech" classroom at the school where I am employed) came in to, well, service the damned thing and make it work. He vacuumed it (the foolish thing was full of dust and nastiness), checked it out to make sure it was happy (it was a little hot), gave it a nice pat on the head and left. As far as I know, the thing was working like a charm when he left.

Is it working this morning? No. Of course not. Why would it?

I suspect the bulb has decided to go. Mostly because the red "Lamp" light is on. It turns on and works for about three minutes and then goes out. Great.

There's a candidate here interviewing for a faculty position--I think in graphic design. The candidate would like to be able to show her work. The committee would like to see her work. I can't make the damned projector work. Double-great.

Now, we do have a small, portable projector. And a laptop. So, theoretically, the candidate can hook up to that and go. It's not as nice or as powerful, but it will work. Fortunately, the Dean just stopped by (he is a very nice and reasonable man) and I let him know what's going on. He thinks that the small projector will be just fine, and commended me on my quick thinking. Hah. If only he knew.

All of this drama is, of course, following on the heels of an amazingly bad night at job #2 last night. Every time I go there, I get crazier and crazier. Is it worth all the aggravation? Probably not. But I'm extraordinarily stubborn and I really, really, really want to see this last project through before I leave. God give me strength.

You know, I know that we all go through times like this. What are your solutions--or means of coping when there simply is no solution?

On a happier note, the Dream Swatch will be finished today. It's measuring in at just over 40 inches, and while I still have some yarn left, my head really isn't all that big. So, the plan is to cast off at lunchtime (in about 45 minutes), weave in the ends when I get home, wet block it overnight, and voila, something beautiful for tomorrow to get me through another day of sheer hell at job #2. Pictures tonight!

Just Call Me "The Warden"

ECUSA
This morning when I arrived at work to open the library, there was a new key on my desk. Apparently, they changed the locks on the computer labs last night. After I finished opening the building--a process that involves not only opening the front door, but includes unlocking the student success center, the office behind the circulation desk, the media room and three computer labs--I sat down to put the new key on my ring and take inventory.

I now have eight keys on the key ring I use for work. EIGHT! We're not talking a huge library, folks--it's a collection of approximately 20,000 items that supports about 200 students. Yet I have the following: a key for the front door of the library; a key for my office that also unlocks the kitchen and a variety of closets; a key for the office behind the circulation desk; a key for the media room; a key for the computer labs; a key for the student success center; a key for the projector in the conference room; and a key for the mail room in the administrative building. I'm supposed to be getting another two keys for the file cabinets that house replacement ink jet cartridges and tablets for the art programs. I jingle like a jailer when I walk. Haven't these people heard of a master key?

Granted, our house has a different key for every lock, so I shouldn't throw stones. But The Beloved and I have discussed having the locks changed so that the doors could all be opened on the same key--my mother did that last year. It was a brilliant move. We may try to do it this summer, depending on how our finances are, or we may do it when sibling moves out. I have visions of putting all of sibling's belongings on the front lawn and having the locks changed. No, I'm not a nice person. This could all work out just fine....

The other day I promised I would write more about the statement from the Presiding Bishop and the response from Bishop Robinson regarding our "season of fasting" in ECUSA. Unfortunately, I don't really have a lot to add. I have nothing erudite to say and nothing important to contribute. You can view a conversation with the Presiding Bishop or read her opening remarks here, and you can access Bishop Robinson's response here.

The entire situation mostly makes me sad. Perhaps I suffer the effects of a very small brain, but I don't understand. I don't understand why a person's sexual preference makes him/her a sinner. I don't understand why it should hold him/her back in a chosen profession--be it doctor, lawyer, Indian chief, Bishop or CEO. And I certainly don't understand the amount of energy and money spent denigrating a segment of the population. After the Civil Rights Movement and the Sexual Revolution, one would think we had learned about making judgments on people based solely on the color of one's skin or based solely on gender. How is this different? As for scripture.... Well, scripture says I should sit quietly with my head covered and be subservient to my husband (The Beloved is not a church-goer, but he really digs this idea and wonders why we didn't have this passage read at our wedding). And, apparently ECUSA has gotten past that part of scripture, since we elected a female Presiding Bishop at our last general convention!

Imagine the good that could be done were we to focus all the energy and money spent on lambasting the Bishop of New Hampshire and the "proper role" of gays and lesbians in the church and put it towards something like the Millennium Development Goals. Or if we were to work on removing the log from our own eye before pointing fingers at our neighbors.

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