23 August 2009

On Being A Student Page

On Thursday the manager of the branch of the library at which I work whisked me into her office to push the doors shut and say, "Amy, I'm very pleased to be able to offer you a position as adult page."

And I grinned (very wide) and said, "I accept."

So I start on the 31st, and I will no longer be one of the 'kids'. For the most part, I'm happy about this. My pay goes up by half again, and I get to keep working in a place I know and like.

Back in December, I was working on an essay for my English course, and the phone rang. Normally when the phone rings at our house, someone contemplates the display and shouts one of three things:

"Ben, it's Cole."

"1-800/Ontario/Washington! Don't answer it!"

"Mom, should I pick this up?"

However, only two of us were home, and we both ignored the phone, because it is bothersome and intrusive and I am an introvert. (See below. I like written communication.) I went up to check the messages a second later, though, and it was someone from the Mill Woods library wanting to know if I wanted to come in for an interview.

!!!

So I did a happy dance, made happier by four applications for the job and eight months of waiting, and called her back right away to say YES TUESDAY AT 4 IS FINE :D

And thus began my sojourn as a student page, which will have lasted eight and a half months in total. One of the first tidbits of information I received was, "We all try to be very welcoming to the new student pages, but sometimes this scares them." Being a student page can be a bit like having fifteen aunts and an uncle or two.

The first shelving truck I did took me a while, and I did it in the company of other pages chatting it up with one another and going a lot faster than I was. Since then, though, I've learned some things:

- The worst type of inquiry from a patron is, "Your site says you have this book, but I can't find it on the shelf."

- From 637 (dogs) to 782 (music) is the section most likely to take the longest to clean.

- We have many books on knitting.

- Wear comfortable shoes to work.

- Almost no one likes shelf-reading, and I'm a weirdo for enjoying it.

- Don't weed according to date unless someone tells you to.

- The Teen section is the worst place for girls in very skinny jeans and guys with piercings to be sucking each other's faces off.

- "Ask them at the info desk" is the answer to all questions, including, "Where are your books on fly fishing?" and "What is the meaning of life?"

- To shelve a DVD truck is to risk being mobbed.

- There's always at least one rogue computer chair.

Thus is the wisdom I will be imparting to my replacement.

21 August 2009

Reflections on Texas

I remember when my mom was pregnant with my littlest sister, she composed an email to our extended family to tell them the news, with the subject, 'The Beauty of Written Communication'. She doesn't remember this, I don't think, but for some reason I recall it quite distinctly.

It's fair to say that I like written communication. I prefer email to phone, and I spend a lot of time on MSN. Written communication is my thing. I think that nothing illustrates the power of it like August 14-18.

I really like the saying that friendship is when someone knows all about you but likes you anyway. It's easy to laugh at, but it's true. In two and a half years of MSN conversations, you learn a lot about each other. You can't just discuss the weather over and over again. It's not as though we have deep philosophical discussions every time we talk, but it's impossible not to learn things. It's surprisingly hard to hide who you are, even over the internet, and even just with written communication.

I think I expected our first meeting to be a little bit awkward. I was reasonably sure it wouldn't be TOO awkward, but I was surprised when it wasn't awkward or weird in the least. It was like we'd always been able to hang out like we did, and to a certain extent, we had always been able to. All we lacked was the bonus of being face-to-face.

I'm pretty awed by this.

In case you couldn't extrapolate from the above, I had a phenomenal time. It's been hard to come up with the words to describe it (and I don't think I've succeeded very well). Two and a half years of talking almost every day made meeting feel pretty normal.

Texas and Alberta are way too far apart.

13 August 2009

Just In Case: The Texas Packing Method

Two whole copies of my flight itinerary, just in case some kind of paper-eating bird happens to snatch the first out of my hands.

Two hoodies, just in case of one of those freak snowstorms Texas always gets in August.

Five pairs of socks, just in case 37 C leaves my feet cold.

Two pairs of flip-flops, just in case the first ones break.

Two laptop batteries, just in case one goes on the fritz.

Two laptop cords, just in case the same.

Four books, just in case I develop super speed-reading mind powers.

Top and toothbrush in my purse, just in case they send my luggage to Tokyo.

...and a teddy bear, because I'm not THAT much of an adult. Just in case.

12 August 2009

On Being Eighteen

You kind of get friendly with an age. I remember wanting to be thirteen pretty badly, but since then birthdays have come with a feeling of, 'Oh, I have to say goodbye to this age now?' It got comfy to say 'fourteen' and then 'fifteen' and then 'sixteen' and then 'seventeen' and then - well, today someone at work asked me how old I was and I said, "Uhh...I'm going to be eighteen." In the weeks leading up to August 13, my age goes from being seventeen to 'almost eighteen'. Which helps the transition, I guess.

Seventeen is kind of different, though. It feels like a pretty mature age without being an adult age.

Not that there aren't perks to being eighteen. I can vote (!) and travel alone without being an 'unaccompanied minor' and drink (oh boy the excitement. [/sarcasm]) and probably other things I forget, including pay for a lot more than I did when I was seventeen. That's on top of the less material things. I'm independent, I'm an adult, and the next eight hours are my last legal childhood hours ever, which makes me sad until I smack myself for being sad that my birthday is tomorrow.

I could always say that the hours after those eight will be my first adulthood hours.

Yeah. I'm growing up.


(I needed to add an awesome quote.)
"We're all terrified of you, in reality. It's like being friends with an undomesticated cougar and sitting with your back to it."