If I wish upon a star...

There are certain things, like camping, that I do once a year, but that mean so much to me. Tonight, I am yearning for a tent, water, canoe, stars, and a campfire. I would so much enjoy this small pleasure before the end of the summer...

Too nice

I personally consider myself lucky to be able to recognize 'nice' and appreciate the exceptionally kind person; I can also have 'nice' tendencies myself, I mean, hey, I can be a good person. But is there such a thing as people that are too nice? (verging overkill, but just too damn nice for it to be even that?) If so, my 5 co-workers (the entire educator team) are these hand-picked 'nice'. (This could explain the 4 interview process). They ALL greet, congratulate, encourage, support, thank, etc., like the rarest of the rare, the good souls you happen to trip upon once in a while and say 'wow, that is a good soul'. These people are not lazy, and, despite an all girl team, not bitchy; even stupid office politics pass with a wave of a hand and a compliment on my shoes. Is this even possible? Am I in for a rude awakening? (The skeptic in me) Calm, happy demeanors aplenty, I find myself, for the first time in a work place, realizing that I am not THAT nice. Yet, I did pass the 4 interviews...hmmm

I had an incredibly zen, simple day. I guess to be surrounded by such 'nice' does that to you. (I have to admit here, in a very girly moment, that bf's look the previous night had some influence on my mood as well - YUM) .

(Secretly, I am wishing for a work bitch-fight)

Need-o-meter

Needy Child You scored 76 neediness!

OK, so it seems like you have that needy child inside, that child that needs to feel loved and wants everybody showing him they love him/her all the time, or else he feels unwanted; that child who cries when he/she is left alone in the house, the not at all independent child... sweet huh? only that freakin' kid u've got inside is screwing any chance of getting a decent lady/guy!! but in your case this needy thing only comes out from time to time, not all the time; so my advice is sending that fucking kid to foster home and be the secure adult you are supposed to be.

Link: The Needy - O - Meter Test
[I just re-did the test and scored 103 - what, you can go ver 100??! I am now officially 'pretty needy'. Tell me something I don't know...]

I was REALLY in the mood for an egg-salad sandwich...

To paraphrase a good movie, I was in this precise mood, AND I had all the accoutrements...so, I set out to make said sandwich, only to rummage through the back of my fridge and discover that I had no mayonnaise or Miracle Whip, (not even my brother had an empty pot laying around). But I was REALLY in the mood for an egg-salad sandwich. So, I substituted, white goo for white goo: mayo for light cream cheese. Frankly, I think I have just revolutionized the world of egg-salad sandwiches, IT WAS AMAZING (and better for me)!!!! Even a 40 year-old virgin would be proud...
You MUST, next time your in the mood, try this.

I want to ride my bi-cy-cle...

Test run this morn to work and back. Yes, this seems ridiculous, that a 33 year-old has to test run a bike ride...and gets all stressed about it, maps out the trajectory days in advance, adjusts her helmet for about 15 minutes, changes shoes twice (maybe athletic sandals will just whooosh off my feet and I should wear sneakers?), wonders what the best place is for her water bottle, packs her bag twice (I'm not even stopping), and worries that her tires might have an incredibly slow leak and spontaneously combust with her weight (maybe I should not have had those 3 Lindt's yesterday)

I have not ridden a bike in over 4 years. Partly because I got my last bike stolen, partly because I was physically incapable, and partly because I was scared. And even four years ago, I rode it but a few times to work, traumatized when another female biker hollered at me when I was going the wrong way on a one-way, nearly causing a major collision, so the theft was in sort a blessing.

But, today was different. I rode my circa 1980 turquoise Mary-McKinley (oh, its a horribly cheap bike, really, the bike lock is worth more) in the midst of the downtown core like a pro (or almost pro). And now I have a secret smile on my face. I am now one of those. I am a cyclist too, and the city is my bike ride oyster!

And yes, as aptly stated by boyfriend (this great pun, as well as our pms weekend earned him the loss of the Re), a bell is indeed necessary on a bicycle. Tee hee...

"I'm an artist - I cry"

The most beautiful thing that was said to me today. I admit, the context was overly dramaticized, but the thought was nonetheless irrefutable: "I'm an artist - I cry"

Not a book title...

Rather something I found scrawled on the book shelf where I was working. In pencil, and rather fresh (how could it not be, I moved thie entire collection last week!)...INTRIGUING! But, from whom? And why?

"We were relieved when modern ice skating was finally invented: the nun's glided in cirlces for days on end, and this was the greatest blessing" This made me smile as if I had found a secret treasure...

Not tooooo bad...or is it? Mouhahaha!

You Are 36% Evil

A bit of evil lurks in your heart, but you hide it well. In some ways, you are the most dangerous kind of evil.

How Evil Are You?

Book titles of the day

Mrs. Beeton's Book of Household Management: a guide to cookery in all branches: daily duties, mistress & servant, hostess & guest, marketing... (Isabella Mary Beeton, 1915) TX717 B4 1915

The Australian Bush, ironically from the 'Cheap Literature for All' collection- with 'special' chapter on Females on the bush (enough said)

Cooking As Men Like It (Frederich J. George, 1930) TX 715 F845

Cooking for Love (Maria Floris, 1959) TX717 F4

For future reference

NOTE TO ROOMMATE/BROTHER/TYPICAL BOY:
Empty coffee pot before leaving on vacation. I just noticed today, 2 weeks into the brewing, that it now had its own special blend...green roast anyone? ewwwwww!

Hypochondriac

Well, I had accepted a while back that I was a maybe a hypochondriac, noticing that my preferred toilet/bedtime reading when at my mom's what her immense Mayo Clinic Medical Dictionary. [This would be the bestest xmas present ever! (hint hint, nudge nudge)]. I would usually fall asleep drooling on the 'rectal disease' page, or skin disorders (I half-cover my eyes when looking at the colour plates, partly revolted, partly mesmerised), or even worse, some disease named after a dead person (Crohn's disease anyone?).

Further clues came when I kicked ass on Jeopardy and answered all questions under 'Diseases' faster than Tribek could finish answering them. I nailed the double Jeopardy.

I take alot of weird supplements.

Internet just pushed my sickness to new limits; not only can I now search by symptoms, but also read excerpts from other hypochondriac freaks like me. I just did this test, and I scored 80%. My name is Isabelle, and I'm a Hypochondriac.

***
I just spent the evening googling 'tilted uteruses', and at least a half an hour on the phone babbling to re-boyfriend about the p's and q's of this predicament with the same enthusiasm as when I told him about my first day at my dream job. I seriously could NOT stop talking about uteruses (of note, I previously subjected my sister AND OB1 to the same discoveries, and can't wait to tell my best friend). I know guys don't want to hear about this stuff, yet I still can't stop talking about uteruses.

***
Re-bf's new cat sneezes sometimes; I just sent him (I just hung up with him and our lovely Uterus chat!) multiple links and diagnosed Minime with the Rhinotrachitis virus or Chlamydia (it's a toss-up, really). I suggested he take her rectal temperature.

I realize now, I need help.

Book title of the week

[I think it neat to mention either the most interesting, peculiar, or just plain funny title I have come across whilst moving what seems to be the most mysterious collections of rare books]

The Natural History of Enthusiasm (1834, Isaac Taylor) classified under 'Theology', BR112 T24 1834

close second:
SERINDIA (five immense, dark red volumes, 1921, Sir Aurel Stein) described as a "detailed report of explorations in Central Asia and westernmost China carried out and described under the orders of H.M. Indian government", folio DS7932 S62 S86 1921

Quelqu'un d'autre

I have just started a new book (of note, for the sheer pleasure of reading) in which the main story line is a meeting of two 40-year-old strangers and the bet they make that in 3 years, these two men will become someone else, ie: the person they have always wanted to be, despite having so many years behind them, and so many things already 'given' in their lives.

***
After many months, grueling interviews and exams, administrative b.s. to boot, today, I finally walked into the museum as an employee. Hector at security (I've come to recognize him) asked me who I was there to see; I told him "Today, I start working". He looked at the list that told him what key he would need to open the corresponding coded box. From said box, he pulled out a large keyring (with 3 similar large keys, a small one, and a magnetic one), handed it to me, and bid me goodday.
***
The first key opens my office, a spacious work/study space on the third floor which I will share with 4 others. Large desks, computers, books, and a billboard with a child's doodle that told me this was a great environment. The second (similar, but shorter) calls the elevator (no buttons exist, security is airtight - thus the magnetic key). The tiny one opens a secret lock at the bottom of an invisible door in an exhibit wall on the fourth floor, which swings open to expose a veritable cabinet of wonders (it is an arts and crafts haven, I kid you not, this would have been Martha Stewart's dream room if she was 10 years old). The last key, which is almost identical to the first, is a mystery.
***
I have dreamed of working in a museum for what seems to be forever but is realistically 12 years. I work in a museum now. After many detours, and many attempts at finding my wee place in this huge world (and I found some pretty great places, but, somehow, they just didn't fit), I feel I have found my new home, my new life. There are so many things I could tell you about my first day. But, this is what is essential: I work in a museum now.

Sir Robert Peel

Just to mention, my new library job rocks and its my new cover. I have secret fantasies of being a serious librarian by day and wild child by night (hasn't every guy fantasized about a librarian putting her hair down?). Tomorrow, I start my 2nd new job, I'll see what other fantasy I can create...

not so alone

It's funny how when you are taken, being alone becomes easier. Sitting at a café with a book, strolling for the sake of the stroll, going to big public events, singing out loud, smiling to strangers, etc. It seems the secret knowledge that we are indeed not alone is enough to rally us and make us fly solo in situations that would usually make us feel awkward. Maybe this is only me, but I realize I indeed felt alot of pressure as a singleton doing single activities, pressure that I simply don't feel now taken, even if a latté is a latté, and a stroll a stroll. Is it because I am not lonely, desperate and looking (and when single, aren't we always looking even if not looking?)? Is it just a question of self-confidence? And is this boldness what makes taken/happy people so much more attractive than singletons? Alone just seems to take on a different definition when not alone.

war of mine

God knows how I adore life
When the wind turns on the shores lies another day
I cannot ask for more

When the time bell blows my heart
And I have scored a better day
Well nobody made this war of mine

And the moments that I enjoy
A place of love and mystery
I'll be there anytime

Oh mysteries of love
Where war is no more
I'll be there anytime

When the time bell blows my heart
And I have scored a better day
Well nobody made this war of mine

And the moments that I enjoy
A place of love and mystery
I'll be there anytime

Mysteries of love
Where war is no more
I'll be there anytime

- Mysteries, Beth Gibbons & Rustin Man