Excess Baggage

With gas prices soaring to all time highs airlines are finding new ways to cut cost and add revenue. One of those ways is charging travelers excess baggage fees. While policies differ by airline, it doesn’t seem that any are charging for any and all luggage that travelers tote with them. All passengers need a little baggage, and airlines understand that, it’s when you start adding on these heavy additional suitcases, that things become a problem and therefore, they charge you.

I have found that by dating older men a certain amount of baggage comes with the territory. The occasional ex-wife, a kid here and there, and whatever emotional baggage they’ve been toting around since their high school love broke their heart. So when a sprite young twenty year old kept coming my way this weekend I decided to give him a chance and smiled back and did the requisite flirting which ended in a number exchange. He was cute enough, decent job, and twenty (ack! a younger man!) so really how bad could it be.

So when he dropped the “I feel like I should tell you something up front” bomb, I wasn’t too terribly worried. How much baggage could he possibly be caring onto this flight? “I have a two year old daughter.” WTF?!?! If I was a Delta stewardess I’d be politely telling him “yes, sir, that is fine, but please know you will be charged for the handling of this excess baggage.”

This all brings me to wonder: how much baggage is too much baggage? Is it too much to ask that a twenty year old guy not have a luggage rack that includes baby mama drama? Apparently, it just may be…

Singing Volunteer – UPDATE!

I just turned around, did I mention that it is now “standard office procedure” for me to sit with my back to the world… oh yeah, except for the fact that I’m the only one in the office who sits in such a configuration… but alas I digress.

So I just turned around to find that not only is spacey teen volunteer NOT wearing headphones, she is also laughing to herself and interrupting her individual chorus concert to emit such ramblings as:

“WHOAH!”
“Whew, seriously?”
“Huh, interesting.”

And of course my favorite… when she pauses and then very loudly and very slowly like a kindergartner who just learned the joy of phonics, sounds out someone’s last name.

Singing Volunteer

It is Day #1 of the new office digs. I could go on and on about the move, the tight new quarters, and the hostility that could be cut with a knife… or more accurately who I would like to cut with a knife… but alas, I will not.

Instead, I shall lighten the mood that has been darker than dark this week with news that being no longer separated from the rest of the library I have made a discovery. One of our spacy teen volunteers who is rarely seen without her headphones, not only talks to herself, but indeed does a not-so-quiet rendition of music-less karaoke while she works… wow. I have no idea what it is she is singing, but she just won’t stop…

This is going to take some getting used to.

Library Tantrums

Working with kids day in and day out I’m used to a tantrum here and there. However, I am not quite as used to the tantrum thrower being yours truly. Oh that’s right, ladies and gentlemen, this girl is on the verge of a full-blown library tantrum.

Of course, being treated like a small child, does not help my venture into tantrum-ness. Yes, I understand that I am 20 to 30 years younger than everyone other than Conan, but come on, people!

Weeks ago we realized this office move was going to be more trouble than it is worth, but as a mere peon I was already on the bandwagon and there was no jumping off. But, now after plan change #4892, I am over this. I ask BossMan a simple question and get yell of an explanation for something completely different. I’m sorry that I was told on multiple occasions that I can bring one of THREE bookcases I currently use for all my program stuff, and now because you refuse to allow us a decent desk configuration I have room for ZERO! I’m sorry that poor poor Andy is temporarily displaced while he awaits to take over the office that is currently being shared by two people while we try to find a way to squeeze ourselves and all our stuff into an area half the size. But, clearly, that is my fault… right.

I am having a flashback to my teenage years, that were not so long ago. And it’s just as painful this time around…

Week 3

So I’m now on week 3 of the not so new tattoo. And while Andy did spill the beans to one of the last remaining coworkers to not know about the tattoo, BossMan is still oblivious.

No rest for the weary…

Summer Reading has begun and therefore, dear people, my life revolves around “Catching the Reading Bug.”

Today I am so darn tired I could literally lay my head down on this desk and take a snooze.  It is horribly tempting too, as Conan is out at the circ desk and I am all alone in the cave.  With my luck BossMan would pick that exact time to come ask me some stupid budget question or something equally unimportant.  Blah.

I have a new round of volunteers starting this week which means I get to spend a large chunk of my time just planning things to keep them busy.  It also will present a challenge for my more seasoned volunteer, Ivy, so named because she has somehow crawled her way into my story times and I just can’t get rid of her.  I haven’t broken the news to her yet that during her precious story hours she now will be manning the summer reading desk instead of trying to grab the book out of my hands or engage me in an Itsy Bitsy Spider show down to see who can sing more loudly.  Oh, Ivy… I have a feeling you will have your moment in the spotlight very soon…

Oh SH*T!

As the Children’s Specialist that I am, reasoning leads those around me to believe that I specialize in all that children entail… baby talk, tantrums, spit up, and apparently, poop.

BossMan and Andy were gagging, Ethel was discussing the unfortunate nature of the situation, Conan was no where to be seen, and not one person was making a move to clean the mess. And they all seemed to be giving me the look. Well, I wasn’t about to sit there and breathe in the stench any longer. And I did not go quietly let me tell you. I grumbled as I searched for the key to janitor’s closet (where are they when you need them??) huffed as I fumbled with the lock and then banged and smashed as I struggled to get out the cleaning cart. Oh where to begin?

While in college I suffered through a brief stint as a cleaning lady for elderly woman. She paid me $20 to come once a week and vacuum, dust, carry heavy things from here to there, and occasionally scrub her bathroom. I never cleaned up poo. What do you even use for such a task? Windex was certainly out. Pinesol seemed a bit on the inadequate side. And so I grabbed something with the word anitbacterial in it, opened the cap, sloshed it all over the floor and then grabbed for the mop. Eventually the stench was replaced by the wafting aroma of lemons and the poop was gone.

Afterwards, I wanted a shower, I wanted facial, I wanted to drown in an aromatherapy dunk tank. But alas, it was just another day at the ranch.

The real reason for the move…

We are gearing up for a big move here at the library.  The acquisition of a new building has induced BossMan to do some personnel rearranging.  As part of this cluster Conan and I will be moving out of our cave to the front of the library where everyone else is located.  I guess they figure this way they can keep a better eye on the roustabouts.   Unfortunately, this move will be ridiculously cumbersome, take Conan and I out of our oasis, and will be taking place smack dab in the middle of the Summer Reading Program.  Way to go BossMan.

Conan and I will be giving up our office to Andy.  Conan is needed up front to answer questions since he is a “real librarian” and pretty much we move as a unit,  he goes, I go.  Besides the fact that after 8 hours in a room with Andy I’m pretty sure he’d be hobbling away with a pencil in his eye.

However, there seems to be other points of view as to why I will not be staying in my little island out of the sun.  Andy informed me this morning in a very matter of fact manner that the reason I would not be staying in my office when he moved back here is because it would be unwise from a “managerial standpoint.”  When I cocked my head to the side and gave him the WTF? look, he continued on.

“It would look highly inappropriate for us to be back there together,” he said.

“Um, have you not noticed that Conan is male?”

“Yeah, but he is married.”

“And this is the 21st century.  Unfortunately, that doesn’t make much of a difference these days.”

Andy shook his head, ah the peon that I am… “we are both single” (wow did he just now figure this out?) “and it would just be very wrong for us to be back there together.”

Somewhere amidst my attempts to control my laughter I believe I said something about sticking a pencil in his eye.  But Andy continued to hold strong.  And now that I sit back here (partially wondering if he has hacked into my computer to watch my every move) it almost makes me sad to think that Andy really deep down believes that anything of an inappropriate nature would ever happen between us.  Does he really think that it has occurred to anyone else in this library to not allow the two of us to be alone together.  I’m thinking not so much.

Perhaps my new quest should be to find Andy a woman…

Day 8

I’m on Day #8 of flashing the tattoo at work and while it has come to the attention of several other staff members, BossMan still seems oblivious. It is not in his character to let something go without at least a smart ass remark, so I’m guessing this means it has still fallen below his radar.

Sugar Daddy’s back in town

Sugar Daddy is back in town for a week.

I was introduced to S.D. a little over two years ago through a mutual friend who lives in my area. He immediately tried to win me over with his huge ego and merciless affection. Needless to say, it did not work. Over the past few years we have sporadically kept in touch. When he returns to my neck of the woods, briefly leaving his posh beach-side lifestyle, I will usually allow him to take me out on the town for an evening. Typically this results in him spending an exorbitant amount of money on me. A Coach purse here, plane tickets there… what can I say? I’m a cute girl.

Now I know what you are thinking, and absolutely NOT. There has been no… um… bartering if you will for all this lavish-ness that has been bestowed upon me. S.D. is not someone I would ever be attracted to, really. And I’m pretty sure he knows that. But nevertheless, he is male, and therefore his neolithic chase instinct gets the better of him and he continues to pursue me like a caveman on the prowl. Maybe it’s because he’s already been married, had kids, and is now living the life of the bachelor with more money than he knows what to do with. Really, it’s not my place to judge.

Some day I will live my dream life, being the sweet little third wife of some ridiculously rich man, living in a glorious old house on Monument Avenue with my adorably spoiled only child. Some day my prince will come… and until then I’ve got S.D.