This is my life ...

… validating subject authorities for superheroes.

Yes, it's a bad librarian joke, but aren't they all?

A guy walks into a Glasgow library and says to the librarian, "Excuse me Miss, day ye harv eni books on suicide?"

The librarian stops doing her tasks, looks at him over the top of her glasses, and says "Fook off, ye'll no bring it back!"

Dirty old men

Ah well. It had to happen sooner or later, I guess. I've been at the library now for just over a year, and finally, we've had a phone call from a Dirty Old Man. Oh, I didn't take the call myself: it rang on my phone, but as I had my hands full (ahem) my lovely colleague answered it. I watched her face as the weirdness of the call began to register. I kind of guessed that things weren't quite right when she repeated "gyrations ... copulation?" Daunted, she put the phone down and asked me who we should refer a call to from someone asking for information about "the gyrations of copulation between a male and female". I started laughing. "It's an old fella trying to amuse himself," I said. Still, she transferred the call to one of the reference librarians, who no doubt was thrilled to hear the dulcet tones of this old f****r on the line. After she'd done this, my colleague told me that he sounded about sixty or seventy years of age. She'd asked if he was a student (you do occasionally get some well-seasoned students) and he'd said no. Bless her, she treated him professionally, as though he were legitimately information-seeking, and her feathers weren't ruffled at all, which was probably a disappointment to him.

In my twenties, I worked a for quite a time as a temp secretary, and twice in my phone-answering career I got dodgy old men trying to sass it up. Strange thing is, they're always 'mature' gentlemen; there's that old-man crackle in their voices. They must be at home, bored and a bit lonely, and decide to try to get their jollies by ringing random numbers and talking dirty to any lady who's unfortunate enough to answer. Who says retirement's all walks in the park and a chance to read through back issues of the Reader's Digest? For some old fellas it's a fresh new chance to make a nuisance of themselves. Perhaps the old duck has popped down to the shops and he's got twenty minutes on his own, alone with the telephone. The other thing that betrays their age is their use of often archaic language. "The gyrations of copulation?" Are you sure you're not actually 105, sir?

I don't remember one of the calls, but the other was memorable for the request that I get on my hands and feet, followed by some other nasty muttering that escapes me now. It seemed a strange and quite uncomfortable request. Are you suggesting a downward dog, by any chance, buddy? A friendly yoga session? I think they enjoy the fact that it's about the last thing you expect to hear when you've just brightly rattled out your "Good morning, this is _____, how can I help you?" In my twenties, I could be relatively easily shocked by callers like these and both times I spent a few moments trying to respond professionally before giving in and just hanging the f**k up.

Public libraries are often magnets for these kind of weird callers (and visitors), but mine not being a public library, I've not witnessed it until now. It reminds me that I'll have to start honing my brutal, withering comebacks, so that when my time comes I can deliver a quick one-two: the short, swift verbal takedown followed by a resounding ring-off. Any thoughts, readers? I'm taking suggestions.

Yes. I am obsessed. What of it?

What a f**king librarianish thing to do. A picture of a cat. I should be experiencing burning shame, but instead I'm just bursting with pride over this pic of my sister's cat, Frankie. He has such a long and luxurious tail that my fella and I think he needs a more exotic name, and so have dubbed him Francis - or Francois - or Franswizzle. They're all ridiculous; they all fit the bill. Go on, admit it: he's cute, isn't he? And yet, he'll kick your ass. My sister has the scars to prove it.

Oh, and here's some exciting news (for me, at least): after spending some ridiculous number of hours trying to track it down through a library somewhere, my fella and I found some great classic movies at our new local video store, including (wait ... for ... it ...) Mommie dearest (starring Faye Dunaway as a psychotic Joan Crawford) and the original Freaky Friday with Jodie Foster. Lordy, what bliss. Now I just need to track down a copy of Go ask Alice, which I saw in high school, so I can enjoy anew those campy psychedelic party scenes.

What? Who? Eh?

Ooops, sorry ... oh, hello! Yes, it's me again! I know, it's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you without a dope beat to step to (apologies to Eric B and Rakim) ... but here I am, back again, with largely bright eyes and somewhat bushy tail. It's been a busy year - I've been working doing reference librarianship, which has been really quite rewarding, and now I hear tell that management is shifting me to cataloguing in the first quarter of the new year. Colleagues have had to spend a bit of time reminding me that this is not really a terribly dire thing to have happen, and that it will be great for my professional standing, and that there are always horse tranquilisers if things get really hairy. I have a mental image of myself tossing my head and trotting wildly around the workstations while the head metadata librarian takes aim. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

On the home front, things are progressing slowly but surely. I see now that it's going to be a bit of a journey re the whole renovation gig, and while I'm not Steve Perry (ex-frontman of Journey, you plebs), I'm OK with that. For now. Until the horse tranquilisers are similarly required on the home front. Cue image of my fella taking aim as I toss my head and trot wildly around the laundry ...

Oh, and has anyone gone all Web 2.0 on me and subscribed to this blog? Reveal yourselves!!! Make me happy!!!

Oh yes. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Welcome back slacker (I'm humming the Welcome back Kotter theme in my head now)

Well now, thank you Hilts for the kick up the ass that I surely required. Here it is July, and no blogging since March. What a bad new-tech librarian! Lots has been on my plate, avid readers (ahem) so please excuse my hitness. Here's the first thing that's really taken up the brain-space: we've bought a house. Yes, a house, really and truly, freestanding and everything. It's three bedroom, built in 1930, and is a bit of a fixer-upper. We got it tres cheap and move in within the month. So, my head has kind of been spinning and I've been spending more than enough time attempting to dot the i's and cross the t's. I am dreaming about the business related to this house, I kid you not. I wake up from dreams about unexpected bills from the conveyancer (that was this morning's magical dream experience). So, please forgive moi: the next few months will see me morph from a new librarian into a new librarian who paints and sands in her spare time. Maybe I'll put a pic up as things move along for you all to gag to.

On the library front: I'm off probation! This is very exciting for me, as we were getting home loan approval around the same time as my permanency was being processed, and you know my antsy, angsty self was just itching to get that final confirmation of full employment so that, you know, the mortgage can get paid and all. My lovely fella is working too but I just wanted that security. And now I've got it.

Alrighty, it is so time for dinner ... what is it, like 7.30 pm? I can't stand it! Put some toast in the toaster already!

Go 'head girl, go 'head, get down

Dead set, the library is such a good place for all sorts of fabulous things, even stuff you wouldn't expect. For pete's sake, if you're at all interested in something, check your library before you go shelling out for it, unless you desperately want it on your bookshelf for a million years. Here's a library find that's utterly lit my wick in the last week - the fabulous Graffiti woman by Nicholas Ganz. Oh, such beautiful, killer artwork - and all of it by the often under-rated lady writer. Check out the portfolio of Faith47 (*sigh*) and Koralie (who gives you several different style options for viewing her pages) and Mademoiselle Kat and Sherm. Dreamy, just dreamy. Anyone who doesn't love this work must have had their eyes poked out of their head.

Speaking of divine, the utterly gorgeous Paula Jane is about to become a mama in coming weeks (so exciting), and she's quite keen to get up a cross-stitch that says Babies suck. And here's the place to get it! Subversive Cross-stitch have all kindsa good cross-stitch sampler patterns, among my favourites: Don't make me cut you; Homo sweet homo and Do not fuck with me. Oh, such good stuff.

And even better? Tomorrow is a public holiday: and I'm planning our next big vegan potluck dinner. Can't wait, it's been too long since the last social chow-down.