Though technically spring break lasts till next Monday, I need to get my head in gear and back to work.  I wrote a paper yesterday that is due Thursday of next week, but mostly I am procrastinating in order not to study for a mid-term in the dreaded web design course that is a week from tomorrow.  Here I have this entire week, free from work, free from school, to catch up and finally understand the fundamentals of html and ruby and other computer jargon and I am avoiding it like the plague.  Actually the plague sounds like more fun.

I did work my way through the first two weeks lecture notes, and wonder of wonders I did suddenly see some things in a new light and even had a couple of AHA! moments when I finally understood some things that had stymied me previously.  But not a lot of such moments.  And I have so many more weeks of lectures to labor over.   My mind is almost frozen in fear, and I get stomach aches when I think about taking an exam for this course.  At other (short) moments I think I can handle some of the written exam, and am only paralyzed at the thought of the practical exam the following week.  Regardless, I need to get past this and take this opportunity to figure out at least enough to pass the class.

Remind me again why I did this to myself?  I could have taken another boring, lecture/paper writing course that added nothing to my skill set.  Could have wandered through this last semester in a happy haze.  But no.  I had to take the one course that challenges me beyond belief, which sucks up all my study time.  Which I have nightmares about.  Which hogs all the brain cells during the day.  Which causes me to eat everything in the fridge.  This is a good thing, right? Right?

Today has been a day to play.  It’s was the beginning of spring break for me, and I didn’t feel at all guilty at spending it goofing off with Katie.  She didn’t take a nap all day; we played fetch and tickle the tummy and throw Mr. Froggie (seen in the image) all morning and a good part of the afternoon.  I think she’s down for the evening  though, snoozing near me at my desk.  I guess I have no excuse for not getting some schoolwork done now.  I have a very frightening web skills midterm the Wednesday of our first week back, as well as a paper due.  Must get to it.

Has the younger generation (not that I’m necessarily counting myself among the OLDER generation) forgotten how to walk? In the past two days I have noticed way too many kids walking, backpack slung over their shoulder, usually on the phone, dragging their heels so that their feet scuff along the sidewalk making WAY TOO MUCH NOISE! Not only are they wearing the soles of their shoes (or bedroom slippers or boots) away, they are annoying their neighboring walkers, especially me.

In the olden days when I used to run races, 5K’s, 10K’s and the such, I used to speed up or slow down to get away from noisy runners. Those people with heavy feet, shoes slapping the pavement, or bells on their shoestrings or other parts of their person, or people with breathing issues, gasping for air, or spitting regularly. All of those sounds annoyed me and made me more aware of my own problems, pains and weariness. Even Riley, the guy that dribbles three basketballs while he runs, made too much noise and I’d let him pass me. OK. So maybe he passed me because he was faster than me, even while dribbling three basketballs. But still. I was always glad when he was over the next hill ahead and I didn’t have to listen to the incessant slap of the basketballs against the pavement.

So this week, while I was stuck behind twenty-somethings with sagging jeans and sloppy shoes, walking slack-kneed slowly toward their destinations I went into runner mode and sped up to pass them. I felt like their mother as I thought…”pick up your FEET!”

I am the library.

I am neither the walls nor shelves,

Nor even books that stand in rows.

I am the wisdom of the universe,

Captured and arranged for you.

I am an open door.

Anonymous

I attended the memorial service for my friend’s husband last night. I only met him once, when he brought the kids up to Traverse City in support of his wife’s running the Bayshore marathon one spring. She and I ran much of it together, and I think we saw her family three or four times along the route, always shouting and cheering for their mom. I thought it was a wonderful thing for them to do; watching for someone who is running a marathon is not that fun for the spectators. It’s a lot of waiting around for a quick view, then on to a new spot to wait and give a quick yell of support before your runner is off again. It takes a special kind of Dad to spend all day with two little kids waiting for a glimpse of his wife going by. But it means the world to the runner.

Last night I sat with another friend and listened to the stories about this husband, dad, brother, son, grandson, nephew and all around neighborhood friend. I knew him only through his wife. Runners talk about all kinds of stuff while we run together. So though I might not have recognized him if I had seen him on the street without his family, I would have recognized him in spirit from the countless conversations she and I have had as we ran over hills and around lakes, through towns and down bike paths over the years.

It’s very difficult to watch a young family letting go of a husband and dad. It’s difficult to watch a father let go of his son, and brothers letting go of their sibling. There were over a hundred people filling the room, overflowing into the hall. Everyone letting go. Letting go, but keeping him close in their hearts. The pastor was right. Telling his story often and well will help ease the pain. And eventually pieces of the pain will be transferred into warm memories that will bring so much comfort.

This young family has a long hard road ahead of them. But by the looks of the room last night they have a wonderful, large group of supportive people to help them in that journey. Let them all tell his story often and well; that’s the key to surviving events like this.

Godspeed Duane.

When I got home late last night I watched the 11:00 p.m. news.  I was shocked to see the story of another university shooting, this time at Northern Illinois.  I thought back to where I was at 4:00 p.m.; just getting out of a class myself, lingering to talk to the professor, then hurrying away to my job.  During that time five or more people were dying and many others were injured.  All were terrified. 

And though this is all horrific..again…what struck me most last night was the short story at the top of the news, then on to the next story, politics, weather, sports.  I’m torn between feeling outrage that it wasn’t a bigger story, people were dying here, and thoughts that maybe there wasn’t much news yet as only a few hours had passed, to wondering if this was a different news tactic,  maybe correct, not to sensationalize the story or to give the gunman too much press.

But this morning, though I missed the first 30 minutes of the national news shows, I was saddened not to see any more information.  I guess it would have appeared at the top of the show, but still.  I am wondering now if we are so used to seeing violence of this type that it is no longer news worthy?  Is it so common that we can’t let ourselves care anymore?  That we can’t take a minute and listen and feel some empathy?  Are we hardening ourselves against the truth; that it could happen here?  Or anywhere?  Must we protect ourselves this way? 

This morning I take a break from my web assignment and think about those students there.  They say it was a grad student.  Maybe we’ll learn more as the investigation continues.  Maybe we’ll hear information that will make us feel more secure, make us feel it is a problem that could only happen “over there.” 

But I think not.  This is not a problem that will only happen over there.  This is more evidence that every day must be lived by every person as if tomorrow isn’t going to come.  Because maybe it won’t.  One student asked that we all pray for them.  I think we need to pray for all of us.  And be grateful for today.

There are funny feelings in the pit of my stomach as I realize that my last final exam of my graduate student life is only nine weeks away.  It’s hard to figure out if the butterflies are those of joy or fear.  Joy because I will have accomplished a huge goal, and also because I will never ever have to study for another final in my entire life.  (And this is one time I can honestly say NEVER!)  Fear because the final is in the overwhelmingly difficult web design class and because the last final marks the start of a new chapter when I have to turn back into a responsible adult.  I’ll have to emerge from the protection of the big university and find my way in the world again. 

But unlike the last two times I graduated from college, I have oh so much more experience behind me and a much stronger vision of what I want to do when I grow up.  It’s the growing up part I’m not so comfortable with!  Lucky for me, library work lets me be a part of so many people’s lives at so many different levels that I don’t think it’s a requirement to grow up at all to do this work.   You are able to give surface information to those that just want minimal direction, or to delve deeply into a subject with those that want more help or just want to share their exploration.  You get to learn a little bit about a lot of stuff, and learn more than you ever wanted to know about some stuff.  That’s what makes it cool.  That and the people you get to meet along the way.

So here’s to counting down the last days of student life, and counting toward the first days of real library life. 

I had a conversation with my brother last night about on-board recording technology for trucks. Apparently it’s on the trucks in Europe, and in fact most industrialized countries across the globe already use these devices to track their trucks movement. It records when the truck is moving and when it’s still, among other things, which would stop the fudging of the driver logs and make drivers more accountable for their rest periods, reducing fatigued drivers, and hence reducing fatigue related death. As we begin to research this topic, to put together our fight to make them mandatory, we are trying to see both sides of the issue. The trucking industry doesn’t want them installed. Drivers use the argument that they would be invasive to their privacy, industry management argues that they would cost too much.

Brother P found a Wickipedia article that described how devices similar (though analog) were used in the 50’s in Europe and how the drivers felt the same invasiveness then, fearing that their bosses would dock them for pay for times they were resting. Though I wouldn’t use Wickipedia to make any important decision, it does provide interesting background material. P said something interesting too; that he thought trucking companies should WANT on-board devices installed because it would level the playing field. That no one wants to play by the rules and rest if it makes them less competitive against others that are not resting but driving straight through to get the load delivered faster. So everyone breaks the rules and there is little in the way of consequences…until someone dies.

So I’m thinking about this leveling concept early today as I set out on my trek to Ann Arbor. I’m thinking about how to use this idea with my Senators and the members of the House that represent Michigan. About how to use it with trucking industry officials I know. It feels like an “aha” moment to me. Something to use to get what I want to be what they want too. I’m so deep in thought that I am miles down the road before I realize I am not supposed to be driving to town for groceries, but to Ann Arbor for class. Which is in the opposite direction.

During lecture tonight I suddenly realized I was enjoying listening to the professor ramble on about collection development.  And that I enjoyed my other classs, professional practices, as well.  And that even though web design is incredibly difficult for me, I am learning a ton, and sort of proud of what I have accomplished to date.  Though the posts lately have a negative tone, in reality school is still such a blast, and I recognized, once again, how amazingly lucky I am to be there. 

Remind me of these feelings when I’m stressed out by the web design midterm.  Please.

This is Katie last spring when I couldn’t get any homework done while she was running around the house.  She waited patiently (usually) for me to complete assignments, and then we played until she’d fall asleep, usually back in the crate of her own choice.  Today she still doesn’t mind sleeping in the crate if there isn’t anything more exciting to do.