i was the creeper on the subway. it was ME.

Two things happened today that I feel compelled to share with you.

- There are so many people in the world that rub me the wrong way and they never did anything at all to me.  Carrie Underwood, for example. My high-school AP Gov teacher.  This guy in my creative writing class.
I have taken the liberty of carefully marking a portion of today's notes and transcribing them here, for you. Let me set the scene: sometimes in lecture, when you hear something interesting, you may quietly "hunh" and mark that interesting thing in your notes. You might even, if it's REALLY INTERESTING, unconsciously blurt a "wow, that's interesting" and mark that REALLY INTERESTING thing in your notes.
This guy during lecture:

"The title, Improvisations ['uh-hunh'], evokes several levels ['hunh'] of interpretation. To improvise ['uh-hunh'] means to be unprepared ['Hunh.'] but also suggests, for example, intimate knowledge ['HUNH'] of the form; an understanding of the instrument ['HUNH'], of its scales ['HUNH'], ...of the type of music ['Oh WOW, HUNH'] ... you want to evoke."

I am IRKED.  This is going to be a grating semester.
I am also CERTAIN he is a really great guy. Do not misinterpret my irked-ness as a character judgment on him.  Enthusiastic participation in seminar is great and I bet if I got to know him, we would be excellent friends.
But until that day: for the love, "HUNH" guy.  I am DISTRACTED.

- An open letter to the guy I über-creepered on the T:
Today I was on the subway from Temple U to City Hall to meet my g-biffles for lunch (MMM Philly Restaurant Week) and it was packed. I squished into a door area, since CH is maybe 5 stops down, and out of my peripherals I saw ... Devin. But like, Devin.
For the longest time I just froze, glassy-eyed, trying to figure out why I couldn't stop staring at this guy. Then out of nowhere my face went "DEVIN?!!?11!?1" right as my brain went "Wait, you have no idea that that's Devin" and that was an awkward five seconds.
I don't really know Devin. I know he lived on Y3N freshman year and was Andrew's (?) roommate and that is the extent of my knowledge. So on the one hand: that was fellow Tribesman Devin in PHILADELPHIA WOOT and on the other: ".... IS that Devin?"  I desperately wanted to shoot him some sort of TRIBE-ONLY secret handshake but WM is not cool enough for that. But I couldn't NOT acknowledge that that was probably Devin, fellow Tribesman in Philadelphia.
This situation needed rectifying because it was FRYING MY BRAIN.

Suddenly one of my genius ideas cropped up: my phone has a CAMERA. My phone is still silenced from lecture! I am meeting DAN of Y3N for LUNCH this is HAPPENING.
So I whip out my phone and front like I'm texting.  I do that thing where you shift around, "looking for signal," and type a few random numbers with a concentrated look on your face.  I ever so carefully position him center-frame and nonchalantly click "Take Photo."

Turns out, even when your phone is silenced it makes a deafening "CLI-CLICK" shutter sound.  And everyone in your immediate area will hear it and look to see who you are creepily taking a picture of.

He looked right at me as I not only scrambled to assume a "I WAS SO NOT PHOTOGRAPHING YOU" expression but simultaneously dropped my phone in the crowded subway car.  By the time I fumbled it back into my hands, shame-faced, the blurry photo was erased and so too was my pride.

The worst part is, at lunch Dan pulled up a group shot of his entire hall on his iWhatever and Devin was not in the picture at all.  If I ever see him again, I cannot confirm his identity as we both will only remember the very awkward day I über-creeped him.

Sorry, maybe-Devin. I'm sorry for photographing you today on the subway.

i look forward to the many congratulations parties i will be thrown in coming weeks

So, um ... I was offered a position with the 2010 South Louisiana Corps.

pause for cheers, applause, general hoopla

Agreed. I'm pretty much crazy-excited.

It's not all roses and song, though, you guys.  I've been placed with K-6 education (in Diana's timeless words: "Um, do they KNOW you?") and in Baton Rouge, when New Orleans is much more glamorous.  Further, I have to pass PRAXIS general knowledge exams.  Shudder.
Primarily I am so terrible you guys with kids!  We do not hang out.

But several things must be noted.
- I officially have a JOB.  It is SALARIED.  Also there are BENIS.  Plus a SALARY.
- It is in EDUCATION.  Which is awesome.  My mom (fifth straight "Teacher of the Year," btw) cried a little
- It is for a NONPROFIT.  Make your silly little "Blue-collar people are so liberal!" jokes, but holy jeebus I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to be working for a nonprofit org in a low-income community.  Like a real liberal.
- LSU actually knows how to tailgate.  Unlike SOME tiny little MidAtlantic colleges. (I don't blame you, W&M. You do the best you can with the 1-acre stadium you have.)
- They give you a 40 page pdf guide packed with details re: your new community.  In my case, Baton Rouge.  And in my case, between pages of crawfish boils, shots of the languid bayous, jamabalya recipes, and shout-out after shout-out of my favorite restaurant, The Chimes ... it is a little like coming home.  TO AWESOMENESS.

So New Orleans may have the glamour, but Baton Rouge is an old soul.  And NoLa is like AN HOUR from BR, NBD you guys.

And, um.  I'm really, really excited.  Come join me in shucking graduate school aside for a hot second to celebrate this weekend!
(WHISKEY AND SODAS FOR EVERYONE)

[BONUS POST ADDITION!
My first trip to Baton Rouge ever was in 2006.  Enjoy these rare shots of 19 year old me getting my bayou on:]

Welcome to Baton Rouge! From the Capitol Building

This is a BEIGNET. Strongly. Recommended.

This is also the State Capitol. Note the moss-covered trees and lush otherwise vegetation.

I look forward to the subtropics after Philly winter.

THIS IS A CRAWFISH BOIL.

Oh. Em. Gee.

That is me on the left, tearing it up. It is like the BEST BARBEQUE EVER.

You would be horrified if I told you how many pounds of crawfish I can (AND HAVE) put away in a single hour.

 

LSU's macot, Mike. He was really boring.

But intimidating on game day.

Also the first time I ever met Barack Obama was in Baton Rouge.

To Sum: Baton Rouge is awesome.  I will be moving there in a little under four months.  If you want gumbo and étoufée airlifted get your orders in now NOM

Also: will you still love me if I move to a red state? I'm serious.

cake! cake with blue icing and a hope-filled center!

I do not give our President enough credit, you guys. And it's his anniversary as our President today! It was kind of a big deal to me a year ago, and it's kind of a big deal to me now.  Thus I give you:

Sexiest POTUS moments of the past year*

It has been a sexy year. IMHO.

• 1/23/09 POTUS ends the "Mexico City Rule" (frees women's health, HIV/AIDS research)
• 3/9/09 Stem cell research is de-politicized: restrictions on funding removed
• 4/5/09 POTUS outlines a nuclear-arms-free global future
• 5/19/09 Environmentalism becomes major focus as strict auto emissions policies are announced
• 6/17/09 POTUS announces the extension of health care benefits to partners of gay federal workers 
• 6/27/09 Historic climate change bill, in part requiring power companies to produce 15% of power from wind/solar energy, is passed by Congress
• 7/21/09 Campaign for health care reform is launched
• 8/9/09 Sotomayor, first Hispanic and third female Judge, is sworn in

• 9/8/09 POTUS makes education a national responsibility and addresses America's students
• 10/13/09 The SFC passes a healthcare reform bill
• 10/30/09 HIV-positive visitors no longer banned from the US
• 11/8/09 The House passes a healthcare reform bill
• 12/24/09 The Senate passes a healthcare reform bill
• 1/14/10 POTUS orders $100M aid to Haiti

That is a LOT OF SEXY for a single year.  This year x4 = Obama presidency which inevitably = awesome.

This has been my political post of the year.

* This sexy timeline adapted from The Guardian. Their (sexy-in-its-own-right) timeline can be found here

boom. English majored.

- 115 days til that M.A. is in my hot little hands.  SCHWING.

• Checklist:
• pass the French exam
• sweet-talk my thesis through committee
• persuade our Hobbit-like Director to approve the red tape
• That flimsy little piece of paper better be worth the madness.  I have no qualms about cutting a b.

- 4 days til I found out if I have a real, legit, salaried, benis-boasting job next year.

• Keep your fingers crossed, you guys.
• I'm petrified.
• AND super over fighting the good anti-unemployment fight with my fellow peeps.  It is the worst.  Solidarity, peeps.

- 33 days to my first wedding experience ever.

• Fact: I have never been to a wedding.
• EVER.  They look fun on TV though.
• I was a flower girl twice in the early 90s, when my adorableness reigned supreme.  Neither wedding counts, however, as I was ineligible for either open bar.
• Fact: This wedding will be going down in New Orleans.
• In a jazz hall.
• During Mardi Gras season.
• Bonus: more beignets in NoLa than in Philly.
• I am working on my dance routine to "Thriller" as we intertube.

- 15 days to the last-ever LOST premiere.

• My LOST bets:
• Jack's story will end with "My name is Jack Shepherd and I am an alcoholic" (via @EWDocJensen). That is an excellent bet.
• SKate will crush Jate.  Duh.
• Stephen King will be revealed as the Smoke Monster.
• See: King's The Talisman. Boom: English majored.
• I have enjoyed blowing your mind today.
• Aaron is Ben. Obvs.
• The Valenzetti equation = the answer.
• It pretty much explains everything, DUH you guys
• Nutshell: predicts the moment of human extinction.  A la Doomsday Clock.
• Variables: human, animal, environmental factors
• Static values: 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42.
• DHARMA's project: control it. Seize universal power.
• I look forward to becoming master of the universe when my VE theory is proven
• Sawyer, in an unexpected reversal of sentiment, befriends the polar bear community in a dramatic and furry island coup
• Also a brand-new, big-city LOST party.
• My Philly friends are regretting the Evite. I can feel it.

I am horrified to realize it is more-than-halfway through January already.

I have this on a tshirt. Don't judge.

this morning i learned that "i'm pretty okay with Excel, why?" means "i would be HONORED to be your new accountant"

I have made my position re: corporate America abundantly clear.  And yet, I continue to return to her arms, hoping this time will be different.  Maybe this time things will have changed.

And each time, the romance blossoms.  Each time we start slow, building a relationship based on trust and mutual understanding.  Each time, I wonder if this is it, if this is the time we respect each other's differences and love each other more for our quirks.  And each time, she kicks me in the face with the force of her soul-crushing lies.

My crisis with corporate America is that I love a paycheck.  I am willing to answer phones and perform data-entry for a paycheck, and that, firends, is the cornerstone of corporate America.  Sometimes I'm willing to give CorpAm credit: even the best nonprofits have to have soul-sucking cubicles and accountants and grueling 9-5s.  I get it.

This time, corporate America fronted like a small-business owner who founded her own gym and healthy-eating cafe.  I thought "I can get behind this.  Community. Health.  Small-business."

Right?

Bosslady offered me a front desk position with a firm handshake in December.  I was thrilled: zero commute, freedom to read all day, a paycheck with which to buy things.  I trained with Bossminion, met a bunch of great people, and settled down with a stack of books and a pot of coffee.

It was great for like three whole days.

I think my first mistake was agreeing to cover a three-hour shift before New Years, when I inadvertently revealed "OH HAI WALK ALL OVER ME PLZ I LOVE BUSTING IT FOR MINIMUM WAGE"

Maybe that first mistake was assuming that the five staff members I joining forces with would stick around.  Meaning as of Janurary it is Bosslady, Bossminion, and little ole me running the show.  It is awkward at lunch time.

Maybe it was sharing with Bossminion (who's around my age, which makes it worse) that I'm in winter break.  Suddenly, in the middle of LOLZing over the latest "SNL," she slaps me with a "Hey, we need you to come in three hours early every day this week because if you don't, the small business will implode because we have no staff.   See you at 6am KTHXBYE!!"

And suddenly, I am the life force of small-business America in the grip of a crushing recession.

Probably, though, the first real mistake was revealing that I'm at least moderately intelligent.  Bosslady did not expect me to finish an Excel tracking project so quickly, which turned into another tracking project, and now completely revamping their inventory files from the past three years.  You guys.  It was boxes of loose paper, rubber bands, and post-its, and it took me four days to file it all into five large binders with dividers and labels.  I must have impressed someone, because I now cannot escape massive projects.

As in, it turns out the abovementioned inventory needs to be [wait for it] ... COMPUTERIZED.

So I painstakingly pieced together a master fileset and set up a few examples from the past year.  That day, I learned that autosum commands saved my bosses a good three days with a calculator.

The next day, the rest of 2009's inventory appeared on my desk.

Oh, corporate America.  You sweet-talking, coldhearted, irresistible demonlady.

i can confidently state i did NOT molest the virgin queen('s words)

So I got this email from the head reflib:

Tammye,

In future, if you must use those tiny sticky tabs to mark pages in one of our books, as you apparently did to the following:

AUTHOR    Elizabeth I, Queen of England, 1533-1603.
TITLE    Elizabeth I : collected works / edited by Leah S. Marcus, Janel Mueller, and Mary Beth Rose.
CALL NUMBER    DA350 .A25 2000

would you please have the courtesy to remove them before returning the book.

OUCH.  If that's not a punch to the book-loving face.

I feel just like the meanest girl in the class pointed out my spelling error and cut me down over it.  And now everyone makes fun of me so the mean girl will like them and help them with the Dewey Decimal system.
I made an outline of all the reasons why librarians and I should be friends:

• I LOVE librarians.
• They are the best.  They are like human computers of knowledge.  They PROBABLY know the answer, and if they do not, they know exactly which database in which to find the primary source, some anachronistic pics or artist renderings, and inspirational notes in the author's own hand.  Librarians are awesome.
• My big sister is a librarian.
• She travels all over the country to big-name universities, teaching big-name universities how to do research better. We would be stuck in the Dark Ages of technology without her reflib expertise.  Et al.
• You know what else is great?  THE LIBRARY.
• Librarians in libraries can help me find any book in the world, and if they don't have it in their own personal library they will seek it out and bring it directly. to. my. carrel.

So I felt pretty sad about how the librarians hate me.

But then I thought "WAIT A HOLY FRIGGIN GODTOPUS.
"Have I just been schooled over respectful use of the library?"

Here's the thing, you guys.  This is a MAIN CAMPUS LIBRARY at a RESEARCH UNIVERSITY.  Library books always suffer inevitable pencil and dog-ear abuse with all the notes and the scribbles and the whatnot.  Surely my sticky tabs lie at the "not at all that big of a deal" end of the spectrum.  Sometimes, there are even permanent highlights and pen marks bastardizing the text before it reaches your researcher hands.  Where, inevitably, you subject it to your own leaden assault.  It's horrifying.

I mean, Virginia Woolf would seize in her watery grave (too soon?) if she could see what I've done to "To the Lighthouse."  I wait with bated breath for the day I contract lead poisoning from my copies of her stuff.  And it's impossible to tell which dog-ears of all the dog-ears are the important ones, as all the passages are relevant by now.

But those books are MINE.  I own them and therefore own the rights to their physical bodies (too soon?).  I will mark them the eff up because they are mine and I am conducting research.  But I hate checking out a book with someone else's brainless comments scrawled all over the margins, and I won't subject someone else to mine.  And I will not be passive-aggressively demeaned by a snooty librarian that doesn't even have a copy of Going Rogue for me to "read" (too soon?).

So I dug up my library records and said librarian can suck it.

• This past semester I checked out 42 books.  FORTY. TWO. BOOKS.
• 8 of them made the "2010 Reading List," because wow did I overestimate how much reading time I would sacrifice last semester.
• Thus 34 books were checked out for coursework and research.
• 7 were requested from other libraries in the area.
• Because my library isn't good enough for queer theory, but PENN'S IS.
• That leaves 27 of my library's own books, for research purposes, in my hot little hands over the course of an entire semester.
• These titles included Derrida, Barthes, Zeigler, Tatar, Levi-Strauss, Benjamin, and other soul-sucking works.
• In other words:
• NOT PLEASURE READING.
• Things that I need to NOTE, CITE, and otherwise INDICATE passages from.
• So of those 27 books in my library's personal book collection lent to me:
• JUST ONE ended up with sticky tabs in the pages.

I'm not saying what I did was right.  I'm not saying I wasn't being insensitive, returning a borrowed item not in the condition that it came in.

But I AM saying that I choose to use tabs. Also, Elizabeth I: Collected Works is a great text I found interesting enough to tab. I did NOT use pen, dog-ear pages, or otherwise molest the Virgin Queen's words.

I tabbed, mean librarian.  Out of respect.  And I hope it burned your fingers as you pulled each of those three sticky tabs out of your whining book.
COURTESY OF ME.

it's pretty much always an adventure around here.

- I DO NOT live in the ghetto.  (I live here.)

However, absolutely everyone believes that I do.  So, instead of explaining for the billionth time, I may just start fronting like I do; according to Ian living in North Philly "gives me the best street cred."  I am always looking to up my status with the g's, so ... Yo, Shortie "officially" packs heat ridin' in the 'hood, y'all.  2nd Amendment WHAT.  Et cetera et cetera.

- Yesterday, a 7pm dinner turned into a two-day race through Philadelphia, National Treasure-style.  It was almost impressive.

     I skipped up the steps of my subway station at 11:15pm last night, having finally made it home from dinner with my mentor (et al) downtown.  I patted my scarf once, then again, then froze as I realized: it was not jingling.  An icy wave of terror shot through my soul.

     Here's the thing: I wear my ID, keys, and other need-to-be-accessed-quickly items on a lanyard.*  Don't judge - Temple ID-checks at every campus building and my apartment is accessed via key card, so ... the ID lanyard evolved.  With all my keys on it.  Of course, peeps made fun of me for wearing a "name tag" to the dinner party, so I eventually bowed to peer pressure and took it off, tossing the lanyard haphazardly atop my coat and bag.  It is probably obvious what happened next.

     I could feel the panic course through my veins.  Good lord, I whispered to no one.  My keys are somewhere, anywhere, DOWNTOWN.  I frantically dialed my (super-amazing) mentor for help, whipped back down to the platform, and rushed south, trying not to wonder where my keys might be if not left behind at the dinner location.

     The train dumped me on Walnut just shy of midnight and I took off.  Racing like a madwoman through the Theatre District, I shoved my way through a school field trip begging autographs at the opening night of Wicked.  I narrowly avoided pedestrian disaster as I took a hard left over the Avenue of the Arts against the light, skidding onto Spruce with the briefest of millimeters separating me and an outraged SUV.  I needed my keys, you guys.

     I finally met my mentor at her apartment, where I promptly tripped over her steps.  I both fell on my face and skinned both my knees. Again. At least I found my keys: they were haphazardly thrown in the coat room.

     I didn't take time to be embarrassed.  I limped back to catch the final 12:25a train, squeezing in just as the doors shut with the conductor's last call and finally getting home just after 1a this morning.

     Never. Again.  These keys will never leave my neck again.

* My mom owns no less than 30 school-themed lanyards, for every possible key need or combination of needs.  It's norms, you guys.

- I would like to extend a formal apology to my friends with jobs, etc, to whom I extolled the joys of winter break, being a student e'en now.  I hereby retract the glee.  I officially have a novel to read and assignments to start, two weeks before classes commence.  Thus, between work, school work, errands, and events, winter break feels eerily similar to the actual semester.  Sorry for my gloating, you guys.

Now I'm jealous of your regular schedules and paychecks.  If not your cubicles.  Or dress code.

- I have had this nightmare.  Not during finals week, which would only have made it much, much worse:

it's official: google is leaving me behind.

Ouch, Google.

Suddenly my MacBook is so ... yesterday.

for lit dorks. MEANING ALL OF YOU DORKS reading an english majors blog, natch

Aloha, bienvenue, and WELCOME to a bright shiny new year! New DECADE!  New era of life, love, and the pursuit of happiness (and a job)!
Speaking of resolutions: in November I posted a tentative list of books to read over 52 weeks, now due for an update.  I'm thrilled to announce that based on explosive feedback, some soul-searching, and the (grudging) cooperation of Paley Library, I have a (more) complete list of jaw-dropping, inspiring, thrilling, hilarious books!  TO READ.
Let me assure you this list is in no way complete.  You guys have sent me awesome suggestions from your own libraries, and I would love to hear more!

THUS AND SO: "The 2010 Book List (so far)" after the jump!
xoxo Anne
(Also I'm playing with the "jump" feature.  Tech MAVEN in the house, you guys.)