Little Sister

After some soul searching, anxiety, and excitement, I adopted a female kitten this past weekend.  I vacillated between an adult female and a male kitten, and was so sure at one point that I was adopting a male that I named him and envisioned him as part of our household before I even found him.  In the end, Nell joined our family.  She is a spitfire.  And she's trying to climb into my overflowing crate of fitness equipment as I type this. 

Oh, Henry is not pleased.  Yet.  I believe she'll win him over any day now.  At least he still loves me. 

And we both still love and remember Miss Chloe.  Always.

So, meet Nell:

Diva

When I adopted Chloe from the shelter 12 years ago, we only knew that she had been surrendered by her previous owner (she was almost 2 years old).  We didn't know if she'd been a stray or what, but she was so pretty, dainty, gentle, and just wanted to be loved.  She also had sass, therefore, diva.  My sister and I joked that she must have some mad street skills with the way she handled her little brother, Henry.  She was a brilliant fluffy package.  I'll miss her...

1999 (?) - 5/9/2012

Hitting My Stride

I’ve been employed as an archivist for little over a month now.  Only in the past couple of weeks have I started to feel comfortable with my decisions and finding it easier to make those decisions.  In fact, I’m starting to think that I might actually be good at this (totally my opinion only). 

            

 When I came in on the processing project, two other temporary archivists had already assessed the collection and designed an arrangement.  Both were gone, with only their notes left behind to guide me, as well as a graduate student assistant who had been elbow deep in the records since November. 

Coming into the project in media res, as it were, has both advantages and disadvantages.  I think being part of the accession, deed of gift, appraisal, and well, just opening the boxes and going through all of the stuff for the first time gives the archivist a more intimate look into the collection and therefore a better understanding of how the records were used, original order, etc.  To understand the collection is to provide the best means of access to it, and access is the ultimate goal, I dare say. 

            

However, the most confounding and thoughtful aspect of processing any collection, especially one that has no discernible organization (i.e. original order), designing an arrangement, had already been done, and I had to figure out why certain decisions were made and consider revising it.  I admit I put way more thought into the existing organization than was necessary.  I felt, since I was now sort of running point on this project, that I should make changes to show that I knew what I was doing and that I could take charge.  At times I tried to force changes that in the end just made no sense.  The deeper I got into the collection, the more I backed off editing the arrangement, and ultimately came back to the original blueprint.  I have made changes since, now that I’m more comfortable with the collection, but it was a great starting point and trying to overhaul it in the beginning before I’d even gotten familiar with the records was a waste of time and energy. 

            

 Now I’m in the midst of inventorying the collection for the finding aid, and this is where I’m finding it easier to adjust the organization a bit.  There are files in a group of files that I believe belong in another group, which just proves that one archivist’s arrangement can vary greatly from another’s.  We’re about three weeks in with this inventory and I have re-organized the files more than once.  So far, that has been one of the biggest takeaways from this experience: Processing archival collections means arranging and re-arranging again and again and again.  You would think the process would be tedious and not a little frustrating, but in fact, it teaches me to look at the collection as a whole and to look at it how a researcher would.  All that theory learned in library school really does mean something. 

            

 This is a temporary gig, and I really want to see it through to the end.  When I had been first hired, I had been asked to apply a processing technique called MPLP (More Product, Less Process) in an effort the speed up the project and open the collection to users, in conjunction with more traditional methods.  I’m not sure I’ve succeeded thus far, because one argument for MPLP is that you don’t need to look at every item in the collection (of which there are 9,000+ in this one), and yet, how is it possible to direct an item to its proper place in the arrangement if you don’t spend a moment to appraise it?  Despite that conundrum (a discussion of MPLP could warrant its own blog post, and it has on other sites), I’ve been moving through the collection at a decent speed.  In fact, sometimes I have wondered if I would finish before my time was up.  Looking back on these past weeks, and considering the remaining collection to document, I can say that will not happen.  Although that, in this uncertain economic climate, does not mean job security; it just means someone else will eventually come along to finish the project, when funding is available.  I’d like it to be me, but who knows?  Until then, I’m enjoying the hell out of the experience.

Oh, By the Way...

 Did I mention I got a job as an archivist?  I didn’t?  Oh.  Well, as of March 5, I have been employed as a temporary, part-time manuscripts processor at a local university.  Yesterday, I got my first paycheck from that gig, and it felt pretty darn sweet, maybe more so because my spirits had been flagging as of late.  

 You see, as the holidays approached in 2011, I decided to shelve my efforts to actively hunt for a job as a librarian or an archivist.  I graduated in 2009, and both the economic climate and my lack of experience left me treading water, unsuccessfully sending out resume after resume.  I wanted to face the New Year rested and my mind free of rejection. 

 Thanksgiving passed, and I had successfully eliminated the anxiety of what I was beginning to feel as wasting my time.  Instead, I stayed busy setting personal goals, spending time with my family, and indulging in too many sweets.  My mind was clear, even of plans to restart the search in 2012.  So, when an email came my way at the end of December from the university archivist where I interned two years before asking me if I was interested in an opportunity to process a collection, it was a complete surprise.  However, it took no thought to reply, “Well, yeah.”

We met a week or two later to go over the collection, the identity of which I guessed by reviewing their News and Announcements section on their website that discussed recent acquisitions.  After she showed me the extent of the collection, pointed out that processing had already begun with the previous intermittent archivist, and indicated that funding was not yet guaranteed, she asked if I still wanted the job.  No, my mind had not changed.

            

 I left the university very excited and anxious to start.  Unfortunately, it literally took weeks to get an answer on funding, which dimmed that excitement and had thoughts of funding falling through plaguing my days.  Finally, I got the confirmation that I could start filling out the employment paperwork.  I didn’t waste any time crossing my “T’s” and dotting my “I’s”, and within a few days I was on campus picking up my ID badge.  When I went into the office to do so, the young man behind the counter asked if I was student or faculty.  Of course, I said, “Faculty.”  Favorite answer ever.

             

The next few posts will discuss the work (in oblique terms since I don’t want to deal in specifics here) and what I’ve learned both about the profession and myself as an archivist.  Seriously, colleagues (I have colleagues!) have called me an archivist.  That’s pretty awesome.

Drop. Your. Sword.

March has become an anomaly this year in NW Ohio.  We are still technically in winter, but for the past week and predicted for this week are 70+ temps and sunny skies.  Not that I'm complaining.  In fact, far from complaining, I had a really nice day today and felt good and energetic, kind of like I feel at spring's renewal.  It was the kind of day that made me pause in what I was doing and acknowledge out loud how awesome it was.  Good music in the background, fresh air through the open windows, and good book in hand.  What more can one ask?

To top it off, a little rendition of, "Mawage is what bwings us togever today," spoken aloud by yours truly while I was cleaning the bathroom instantly put in me the mood for The Princess Bride, and so I popped it in.  I haven't watched it in years, but I was instantly pulled back in to the fantasy and humor and anticipating lines before they were ever spoken.  I love that I still love this movie.  I know that tastes change over the years, but there are just some things that never budge from one's heart.  I remember the mileage I put on the old VHS I borrowed from a friend when I was young.  I think I watched it ten times or more and it might have been a year before I returned it.  When I got my first DVD player, this was one of the first DVDs I bought, and for good reason.  Cary Elwes is full of charm (and still is, in case you haven't seen his turn as Pierre Despereaux in Psych), much as the movie is.  As Westley and Buttercup run through the fire swamp, I thought how in this generation of remakes, I'd hate to see The Princess Bride get an upgrade, because there is no need.  Even the practical effects that are pure 80's camp of the ROUS's (Rodents of Unusual Size for those of you who are not in the know) seem just right.  And no one can replace Andre the Giant.  No one.  It wouldn't be sportsmanlike. 

So, today was a good day, what with storming the castle and all.  Most of my days past have been good since my last post two months ago (or has it been longer?).  2012 has thus far turned out to be pretty decent.  I guess I'm doing something right. 

It's past 9 pm, the windows are still open, 80's pop is playing on the TV and my cat is snugged up against me without a care in the world.  No, I really have nothing to complain about.  Hell, with Kool & the Gang's "Ladies Night" jamming through the apartment, complaining would be, well, inconceivable.

Month-In-Review: December

Blimey, 2012 just sort of happened, didn't it?  Sure, it came after 12 months of 2011 as most new years do, but I swear those 365 or so days went by a hell of a lot faster than they should have.  I mean, did I really accomplish anything?  I honestly can't say.  2011 was a quiet, uneventful year in the old Sara B household, and I suppose that is something for which to be thankful. 

I've been busy this past week putting my resolutions into motion (you know, lose weight, get a job, get a date, yada, yada, yada) that I haven't put much thought into that old holiday flurry that was December.  Well, here is what I'll address:

• Miraculously, despite holiday parties and the associated richness of food, I finished 2011 five pounds down from where I started.  It's five pounds, not fifty, but I'll take it, considering how hard it is to manage at my advanced age.
• There has been a positive turn on the job front, but I'm superstitious enough not to expound on it until some things have been set in stone.  
• Really, that is the extent of my life since December 1.  Gripping.  Gah.

Well, as I've mentioned before, I love beginnings, so January is usually full of positive anticipation.  I'll let you know in February if that optimism has become a habit, since it takes 21 days of doing something for it to become a habit, after all. 

Cheers!

Month-In-Review: November

I'm a little late posting my riveting, recurring review of my monthly life, and I apologize for all of those who waited with bated breath.  So, what happened?  Well...

• ...I decided to shelve the job hunt for at least the duration of the holiday season.  I just know I'm going about it all wrong, and it's more than a little annoying to be treading water for so long and getting nowhere.  I haven't given up (Really!  I haven't!), though.
• I, as expected and required, ate too much over Thanksgiving.  I usually ride that hedonistic train from Thanksgiving until New Year, but I'm trying to rein it in between holidays with some smarter choices.  Doesn't seem to make a difference to my waistline, though.  Over 30, and the metabolism seems to come to a screeching halt.
• We haven't even had our first real snowfall, it's still autumn, and I'm already sick of winter.  That depresses me, as I've always been a fan of sweater weather.  I do increase my coffee drinking during these months, though, and that's always comforting, especially with a little Baileys.  
• I got nothin'.

So there you have it, another month, another roller coaster ride.  Bleh.

Inhabiting the Character

Pride and Prejudice is a great romance novel.  With characters so interesting and vivid, it's no wonder Jane Austen's work has been adapted many times to both big and small screens, as well as having been the source material for other novels, like Bridget Jones' Diary (a personal favorite) and Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.  Sometimes Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her Fitzwilliam Darcy are as real as if they were sitting in this room with me.

I'm currently all aflutter over P&P because I watched a charming movie the other night, Lost in Austen.  It tells the tale of a die-hard P&P fan, Amanda, who discovers the heroine of her favorite novel in her bathroom, after the latter has come through a door from Regency-era Longbourne (fictional home of the Bennet family) into the shower of our protagonist in modern-day London.  They switch places for a time, during which Amanda completely turns the plot of this classic novel on its head.

As events change, characters previously missing from the original novel appear, and it's if they have always been there, only Jane Austen forgot to tell us about them.  The world of Pride and Prejudice is fully intact, especially the dreamy Mr. Darcy.

I don't know what it is about Mr. Darcy that makes him so irresistible.  He is a snob, he jumps to conclusions, he lets his (wait for it) pride get in the way of finding happiness, and he says terrible things to Elizabeth over the course of their "courtship", but there is just something about him.  When it comes to the actors who portray this hero, may I just say, damn.

Colin Firth was my first Darcy.  He was cast in the film version of Bridget Jones' Diary partly because of his amazing portrayal in the 1995 BBC production of P&P.  Dandy collar and all, he was to die for, especially emerging from the lake on Pemberly in a white shirt and breeches. 

Then came the 2005 Kiera Knightley/Matthew Macfadyen rendition.  There was something a little rougher around the edges in this Darcy, and a scene with mists and fields and open collar, oh my.

This week it was Elliott Cowan whom I saw as the haughty Fitzwilliam.  As his colleagues before him, pulling on the mantel of an arrogant, prideful suitor, Mr. Cowan transformed into something purely divine.  And kudos to the writers of Lost in Austen who, in a wonderful homage to the 1995 film, had Amanda instruct Darcy to go into the lake.  Sigh.

I'm not sure I'm a big fan of that period, the restraint, the propriety, the clothes, but when each of those actors (who are attractive and talented in any role I've seen them play otherwise), puts on that Regency garb, curls his lip just so, looks down upon a witty and intelligent woman and say, "My good opinion once lost is lost forever," well, it's enough to sink down in your seat and fan yourself. 

And that is what I'm thankful for this holiday season.

(Was this post link-fantastic, or what?)

"Life is more than just mere survival"...

Tonight is the kind of night you refer to when you start a story with, "It all happened on a night just like this..."  Fall leaves swirling in the wind that echoes like a ghostly cry.  It would have been much more appropriate on Halloween and not some random Wednesday in November and cut off the power for 30 seconds in the middle of my changing out of my work clothes.  Eerie, unsettling, and yet, sitting at the traffic light on the way home from the office, my car buffeted by that relentless wind, it was comforting.  I always say I like fall the best.  I guess I'm just more nostalgic during these crisp months.

I read various, eclectic blogs -- all loads better than mine -- and one that I visit regularly is My New Plaid Pants.  A movie-driven blog, the author has various features (my particular favorite is "Thursday's Ways Not to Die"), including "Everything You Need to Know About Life..." wherein he posts a quote from a movie possessing sometimes off-the-wall insight.  Yesterday's quote was from Woody Allen's recent film, Midnight in Paris, and had an impact on me.  You can view the blog here, but I'll re-print the quote directly:

Paul: Nostalgia is denial - denial of the painful present... 

the name for this denial is golden age thinking - the erroneous 

notion that a different time period is better than the one one's 

living in - it's a flaw in the romantic imagination of those people 

who find it difficult to cope with the present.

And now I want to see the movie exclusively to hear Michael Sheen, who plays Paul, say this bit of dialogue...

Anyway, my first response was that this is absolutely true.  My second was that I am not necessarily dealing with a painful present.  The point, however, is that this isn't world-shattering information, but sometimes someone can articulate something so well that a gong of clarity sounds in your head and for a few minutes you feel like you've been shown the answer to the meaning of life.  And now I can't get that quote out of my head.

So admiring the leaves of fall dancing and frolicking in the air is just a way to deal with the here and now, I suppose.  

And even with the TV playing 'Mr. Belvedere' in the background, the wind insists on being heard...

Month-In-Review: October

These days, my only outward nod to Halloween is in color-centric clothing.  For example, today I wore an orange sweater with black slacks to work.  I really wish there had been a pair of pumpkin or black cat earrings in the jewelry chest I’d “inherited” from my mother, but no such luck.  I haven’t put together an actual costume in ages, and I haven’t handed out candy since I crossed the threshold into adulthood.  I do spend hours enjoying those dime a dozen countdowns of great horror movie moments and cheesy slasher flicks that are only worth my time when they’re so bad they’re good.  (Last year, I watched a Halloween episode of Quantum Leap from the series I had on DVD.  It wasn’t scary, by any means, but provided a nice accent to the holiday.)  

Whether grabbing a ballerina costume off the racks or helping my mom sew a witch hat and cape, Halloween definitely had more of a build up as a kid.  I remember celebrating the holiday in elementary school with a costume parade around the playground.  It didn’t feel like a school day, then.  We weren’t students; we were ghosts, princesses, Freddy Kruegers, Michael Jacksons, pumpkins, cats, and scarecrows.  Our teachers transformed into something a little cooler with just a dab or two of white face paint and blue and red for veins and blood.  We left at the end of the day not with homework, but with candy.  

Candy is always the ultimate goal.  Children don’t care about the history of Samhain or All Soul’s Day.  The sugar coma is all that mattered.  And for parents worried about their babies suffering from something worse, like poison or razor blade, they console themselves with snagging the choice treats in the name of safety.  

My dentist and my waistline insist that candy must no longer wield such influence over my 32 year-old self.  I suppose the butter-drenched popcorn on my lap while I watch a bloody good time of a horror movie will have to be the appropriate alternative.  

As for the rest of October:

• Five job applications.
• Weight gained in a sure sign of winter's approach.  I must pack on the pounds to stay warmer.  Yeah, that's it.
• My Henry (kitty cat) was diagnosed with FIV, but it's super manageable and he's been aces since the vet.  I'll make sure he stays that way.

 "The veil is getting thin my friends,

And strange things will pass through." 

Kind of gives you chills, doesn't it?

Month-In-Review: September

I really debated whether or not to post the details of another uneventful month.  Eventually, habit won out.  September sped by, and in those blink-and-you'll-miss-it days, I have succeeded in doing the following:

• Becoming hyper-vigilant over my new car.  Documenting the miles under me before I have to fill up with gas, giving it a critical eye every morning for nicks or scratches, and even contemplating the RPMs as I accelerate.  I am not car crazy by any means -- just ask my old Spectra -- but now I have to fight the urge to give other Nissan drivers a nod as I pass them on the road.  So, I ask you, WTF?
• Applying to 7 jobs.  The momentum here is slowing considerably.  I feel like I need to take a step back, start over.  I haven't looked into the volunteering thing seriously enough.  I really should do that.
• Watching Pscyh episodes ad finitum.  Having basic cable, I've never seen an episode until this year, thanks to Netflix streaming, and now I am totally addicted.  I'm going through the past five seasons for the second time.
• Contemplating a big fall deep clean.  My apartment is picked up, but definitely needs some effort under the furniture, etc.  Contemplation is all I've done, so far.

And so I struggle to think of more to add.  I'm a little restless, but not terribly bored.  That's good enough for now.

Articulate

Technology is always on the brain, and it seems that it is often a subject here, so if I can't think of anything else to mull over, I just don't post for fear of being redundant.  Well, screw it.  I'll take the chance.

I am really getting into productivity software, and it's about time.  I'm finally exploring all of the cool things in the Microsoft Office Suite 2007, like Access (and the confusing codes needed to develop the exact query I have in mind) and InfoPath.  My appreciation for technology grows by leaps and bounds.

I've even started softening towards E-readers, more so recently as I'm having a hard time getting my hands on a copy of The Help for book club and am really reluctant to go out and buy it.  From what I understand, electronic copies of books are a little less expensive than the traditional print copies, and as I'm trying really hard to curb my spending (please note that I am totally aware of the fact that investing now in an E-reader to get a cheaper version of one book really, totally defeats the purpose of tightening my budget), I thought that it was a decent consideration.  It was actually kind of liberating to be open to the possibility when previously I just wanted to slam the door in the faces of Kindle, Nook, and the like.

My negative reaction to E-readers stems from the "print is dead" argument.  Those that support the abolishing of print books can point to E-readers as cause for such action.  While intellectually I know that traditional books are far from disappearing, I've met many people who assert that they will never need a book shelf again, it feels like a plague is among us.

Sure, that sounds obscure and doesn't really make a good argument against the "print is dead" assertion, but that's because sometimes I can't articulate gut feelings.  Luckily, there are others who can.  This post came to me through my RSS feed this evening and I knew I had to re-post it right away.  The writer illustrates her point poignantly and succinctly, and I couldn't agree with her more.

Oh, and when I'm ready for an E-reader, because it does seem inevitable, no matter how enamored I am with   my new toy, I'll not only be grateful that I can afford it, I'll still keep my book shelves.

Month-In-Review: August

Another fascinating month is at an end.  We are also closing in on the end of summer.  Fall will officially be here this month, September.  I have to say that I am much looking forward to it.  I'm a middle ground kind of girl: Fall and Spring are my favorites.  And why shouldn't they be?

So what did I accomplish the past, uh, august weeks? (Har-har.)  Let's see:

• I bumped up my job application totals from July, but only by half.  I made it to 6.  Is it the summer mind-set or what?  Now that the kiddies are back in school, will I be getting to work, too?
• I had a promising start to the weight loss this month, with a couple of pounds, but this last week put me to back to where I started August 1.  Still, maintenance is better than gain.
• I got a summer cold from which I am suffering a lingering cough that keeps me up at night and bothers anyone lucky enough to spend time with me.  
• I bought a new (-ish) car.  My 2002 Spectra was fine, with the exception of a slightly noisy engine, a slow leak in the rear passenger tire, the dash coming apart at the seams, and no more letters on the back indicating what make or model she was.  Okay, fine, she wasn't fine.  Still, it stung to put her out to pasture.  Almost 9 years, you get attached to these things.  I am warming up quickly, though, to the 2008 Nissan Sentra that replaced her.  And yes, I will likely name her.  I am such a girl.

So that ends August.  If I've forgotten anything, it might be that I've rekindled my love of reading after nearly six weeks of barely picking up a book.  I returned from the library one day with three books and voila, I am a happier person again.

Books are remarkable, aren't they?  Or, should I say, the human imagination is...

"...one must describe the weather."

I don't know that one must, but Virginia Woolf certainly does, to a great extent, in her diaries.  However, as I'm only three years in, I can't say with any certainty that the trend will continue, but she does love to lament the wind and rain and honor the clear, sunny days. 

I came by VW my senior year in high school when I read A Room of One's Own for a class project.  To the best of my recollection, it was a compilation of feminist essays based on lectures she had given at two universities in England.  I do remember that I promptly bought up a few of her novels shortly thereafter and made it a mission to read her diaries. 

The closest I got was in college when I read a few pages from A Writer's Diary, which were selections from her full diary by her husband, Leonard, after her death.  Things got in the way of me ever finishing that book and graduating to the complete five volumes, despite the refrain of that Indigo Girls song in my head.

So more than ten years later I've decided to just do it and crack open those volumes.  At more than 300 pages each, it won't be a quick process, but I hope it will be an enjoyable one.  So far, it has.

The weather aside, VW is quite adept at characterizing the people in her life.  She draws caricatures of these writers, artists, and politicians that are quite entertaining.  I have also noticed a tendency to compare people to dogs.  She loves to gossip, and there is some question as to her honesty, according to Anne Olivier Bell, who edited the diaries. 

The diary has also illustrated life in London during the first World War, albeit rather casually.  The way she talks about raids and bunking down in the kitchen until the all-clear sounded is presented in almost the same tone as the weather.  I sense her get more fired up about the cost of goods and their availability during this time more than anything.  When the first volume begins, her first novel, The Voyage Out, gets published and yet she mentions it but once.  She appears to have more interest in her husband's successes, which was kind of sweet to behold.  In these early years, she has no doubt of Leonard's talents.

I've only just begun.  I'm currently in 1918 and the diaries end in 1941, just days before her suicide.  I've a lot of life left to go.  But, even in these first years, I am taken aback by her insights into human nature.  No wonder I feel so comfortable around her, even though we are lifetimes apart.

Summer Conditions...

...are that traffic will be a nightmare everyday of August.  I live outside a moderate sized city.  Traffic is generally tolerable with very few snarls.  Gridlock is not really an issue.  Back ups do happen, but rarely.  Well, at least, I had thought so.

I don't know if it's a result of so-called progress, with construction springing up new highways and what-not, or just dumb people, or a combination of both (dangerous indeed), but since August 1, I have seen a trend that is very disturbing.

That first sunny day I ran into a backup off my home road due to lane closures and on my detour, passed one three car accident and one single car accident within less than a block of each other.  Tragedy hit a few days later when three people were killed in a highway accident that was the result of an accident just moments before.  Another couple of days and another three car accident on the bridge I cross everyday on the way home, detouring me thirty minutes out of my way.  An accident two days ago on the highway rerouted everyone to my normal path home, slowing everything down. 

I'm whining.  And, I'm whining about something that's probably not even very interesting.  What it is, is just the way it is.  But the number of car accidents I've heard about, passed, avoided, just seem higher than normal.  Are we too distracted?  Impatient?  Frankly, I'm a little nervous.