Rebecca has been volunteering in the library in her meager free time. She writes:
Oh man, you won't believe what I just found. I was digging around in
the drawers of the Librarian desk, trying to find a pen, and I came
across the Library Logs for, like, the past 20 years. I mean, nobody's
really used them much since the advent of mass e-mail at McMurdo, but
there's Records as far back as Winter '86 - and in addition to listing
how many people came in and checked out how many books and what got
catalogued where/when etc. ... There's all sorts of little personal
anecdotes and comments about the weather and the food and jokes and
poems people wrote while they were on duty and ... Just freaking awesome
stuff. I meant to reshelve a bunch of books, but I got so caught up
just reading these things, that now it's nearly 9...
. . .
What a welcome!? My first McMurdo Library Working Experience, not my
first Library Experience, mind you, and certainly not my first
experience... None of my "friends" let me know how COLD it was in here,
and here it's 2.5 hours later and I discovered there's a blanket on the
sofa. Keeping warm here is a task in itself. Only 2 visitors so far -
but it is a gread day outside and hey, if I wanted to be cold, I'd
probably go for a walk rather than wander through the library, too. Got
a request for a book about Stocks and Bonds! Ha!
Well, gotta get back up and jump around again before I freeze to death.
"15 April '92
I'm still here. Not one soul has passed through the door - except me of
course. If I had not read your paragraph Jeanne I would not have known
there is a blanket on the couch - I'm freezing and I'm glad to see that
Oh, that wool blanket is calln' my name! 'Oh Todd! Oh, Todd!' Yessir,
there's nothin' like a blanket to cure the Freezin' Blues!
Dear Treasured Coworkers,
Because you are, each and every one of you, more precious than gold to
me, I have undertaken the task of locating installing a small space
heater so that you all may endeavor to undertake your labours in comfort
and serenity. To say nothing of the fact that I was pretty damned cold
myself. In spite of the attempt at making, at least the space under the
desk, comfortable, only four people came in.
Maybe we should try sex?
Tue, Oct. 4th, 2005, 02:09 am
Thu, Sep. 29th, 2005, 12:33 pm
Whoa. Circadian rhythms are crazy. I'm always amazed by how much much better I'm able to operate at, say, Noon after I don't sleep than I was to operate at 6 or 7 am that morning - despite being hours more sleep deprived by the time midday rolls around - just because my body/brain are more used to dealing with that as a time that I'm awake.
I had this wacky Biopsych professor once who argued that humans might not actually physically slash mentally need sleep, that it could just be an evolutionary hangover from a period of prehistory wherein it was necessary to ensure that humans would spend the darkest and most dangerous part of the night curled up safe in a snuggly cave somewhere, so as to keep them from being out and about to get munched on by sabretooth whatnots. He believed that if you just reprogrammed your Circadian cycle, basically through about six weeks of brute-force retraining, you could essentially "break the habit". He claimed, himself, to sleep only four hours a night.
Granted, he also wore dark sunglasses while lecturing because he claimed that the classroom lights were too much for his eyes, and he adamantly held that the most significant and psychologically trackable differentiating factor between any given human beings was whether they were cat people or dog people...
But anyway. I just finished everything, cleaned out my desk, am about to clean out my computer and then I'm going to go dive headfirst into another exciting episode of Life As Rebecca. Maybe I'll catch a few Z's during the commercial break, but maybe not.
Thu, Sep. 29th, 2005, 09:19 am
Me while making tea a minute ago: Mrrrglfrjsngd... I've been awake since 9:00 yesterday morning. In the last 48 hours, I've had less than four hours of sleep and consumed the equivalent of about two meals total, but I have ingested more alcohol, caffeine, nicotene and amphetamines than I do in an average week, scrambled, walked, climbed and tumbled all over town and back, and now I have to keep myself awake for at least another five hours. All for good reasons and so worth it, I'm not complaining. In fact, I'm reveling (when I can keep my eyes open.) But it's obviously taken a toll on me physically and ... basically, damn I could use a massage. Haha, yeah. Anyway.
The Internet: Also, today is the Holistic Health and Wellness Fair in UMC 235 from 11am to 2pm. There will be free massages and acupuncture on site, plus Student Wellness is giving away gift certificates for more professional acupuncture and massages for you to use later on.
*blink* What? Reality takes such consumately good care of me sometimes it verges on being just plain silly. I mean, seriously. "Oh, by the way, Today is Free Massage Day!"? Whiskey tango foxtrot? I don't know what I do to get this kind of shit happening all the time, but ... wow. It's days like this that I almost wish I believed some kind of Creator spirit just so I'd have someone to be grateful to for all the overwhelming and seemingly random goodness.
Anyway. Indescribable night. Well, okay, not entirely indescribable, but the kind to be (smudgingly) described in paper journalspace, because it was the kind of good that I want to keep just for me. Soverymuch...yeah. Now work (tying up loose ends), lunch with Everett, nap, and Wicked with Jackie. Neat.
Wed, Sep. 28th, 2005, 10:44 pm
Hanging out with three of the most brilliant people I know, but much more importantly, three of my very favorite boys in the entire universe, drinking and arguing about pop music. It's entirely possible that I couldn't be happier.
Mon, Sep. 26th, 2005, 04:50 pm
Threw my 1920s Cocktail Party themed going-away gathering on Friday night at the Driftwood House. Preparations were hectic but fun and involved dozens and dozens of white candles and flowers, art nouveau posters, creatively draped lighting, jazz music, strawberries, good cigarettes, champagne and coffeecups. Got to play dress-up in my Great Grandmother's actual Twenties pearl jewelery and be surrounded by all sorts of awesome, beautiful friends in pinstripes and fedoras and various other expressions of glam and glitter. I think Best Dressed must go to Joanna for her Art Deco and Southern Comfort ensemble, and to Travis because, well, damn.
Aside from the silly shinyness, I can't express how much good the evening did me. I especially can't express it now, because I've got to run to meet August and Ted so I can go watch them rockclimb. But ... Oh, I don't know. More later. Click click click, like tumblers falling into a lock.
Thu, Sep. 22nd, 2005, 12:41 pm
Wed, Sep. 21st, 2005, 02:54 pm
So ... Hm.
I think the imminence of the leavingness just hit me full force. Seriously? Less than two weeks.
I got an e-mail from Josh today. I like Josh.
It's overwhelming to realize that I can't begin to fathom the fundamental motivations of anyone I love. I haven't come close to even understanding myself.
Thirteen days, one hour, and twenty-two minutes.
I'm so tired.
Oh. Huh. Apparently it wasn't Joyceanism that was exhausting me, it was being made out of sugar and spice. (That, or Joyceanism has discovered some very clever way to make my lower back ache as well.) Urgh. Pardon me while I go curl up in a ball of spiteful irony and die. Moan. Shiver. Whine.
Fri, Sep. 16th, 2005, 04:42 pm
Joycean Being is exhausting. Inspiring and stimulating, yes, but fucking exhausting. This is no aspersion, just an observation. Deeper down the rabbit hole.
On a completely unrelated (haha) note:
CRACADME% - Rebecca describes what is positive about a career in academia: Never having to be a manager or employer. I'm so uncomfortable with the idea of being in any position of authority wherein I'd be empowered and expected to "discipline" other human beings, especially adult human beings. Such positions include but are not limited to the role of manager, parent, and teacher employed at anything preceeding the college level. The thought of having people work for me weirds me out. Even having Dustin doing data entry for me at work weirds me out. I'm not really sure why. Probably part of it is that it seems like an overwhelming amount of responsibility that I can't imagine ever deserving or being able to carry effectively. Part of it is that I'm, like, obsessed with people being able to trust me, and I don't imagine it'd be possible to ever entirely, genuinely trust someone part of whose actual job description was to pass judgement on you, regardless of how much you might like them otherwise.
Basically what it comes down to is that I want a work environment wherein I have colleagues and collaborators rather than employers and/or employees. Yet another criterion to keep in mind, in addition to the "intellectually, creatively, and ethically challenging/fulfilling" thing. The problem here is that the more I think about this, the more I'm setting myself up to be discontent with any "career" outside of, basically, academia or art. I'm not an "artist" and academic jobs are v. hard to come by. And then there's that "soul selling" issue.
On the other hand, I could always make a career as a dishwasher in Antarctica.
Speaking of which, I am really looking forward to the fact that there are no flies down there. Goddamn flies. Everywhere.