Every repository has at least one collection that just isn't worth the space it is occupying. In my library, the collection that wins the award contains approximately 21 linear feet (in brown Paige boxes) of research on privies. Yes, privies. The official title is "Seat of Easement: A Research Collection on Privies from Ancient Times through the Twentieth Century". No one feels like wasting their time with the crap. Apparently Mr. Humphries and the former head of our department drove up to the researcher's home to pick up the load 12 or 13 years ago. I can't imagine this stuff gets better with age. At least it isn't attracting flies.
I know that a lot of men have trouble with style and fashion, but poor Mr. Humphries is way behind the times. He recently started wearing a shirt that must have been in his closet since the 70s. It is a white shirt with many vertical stripes in a variety of colors. Maybe someday I will be able to capture it with the camera on my cell phone. He wears a tie everyday, and obviously hasn't updated his collection in a while. Several are fraying at the edges, and he has more than one that is goldenrod. I didn't know clothing was produced in that color.
Today Mr. Humphries managed to trump all of his past fashion transgressions. Tartan trousers. Bright, red, wool, tartan trousers. We had the office Christmas party today, and Mr. Humphries pulled out the party pants. Topped with a blue button down and one of the favorite goldenrod ties, Mr. Humphries was a sight to be seen. When I first saw him this morning it was all I could do to resist bursting into laughter.
I have to give him this, however. He provided quite the conversation starter at the party!
Every now and then I spend some time Googling friends I haven't seen/heard from in a while. This afternoon the target of my search was someone who can best be described as an ex-boyfriend. Surprise! I found his wedding pictures. Despite all my issues with people getting married, I found myself feeling nothing less than happy for him. He is practically glowing in the photos. I never, ever, saw him smile like that. When mutual friends of ours got married about 6 years ago, "Boy" was one of the groomsmen. Due to his countenance in a photo of the entire wedding party, he was nicknamed "The Undertaker". If his bride can make him smile like that, she must truly be the one for him.
"Boy" and I were never meant to be. It was quite clear to me, but he was so desperate to be in a relationship that he ignored the fact I was just using him for free meals and movie tickets (he always insisted on paying for everything, which worked for me). "Boy" preferred the chain restaurants, and was always noticeably uncomfortable when I chose something more upscale. There were very few topics we could discuss, and we pretty much had the same conversation every time we went out. He likes the military and voted for Bush in 2004 (under my influence he voted for Gore in '00, but later, as the chads hung, became disappointed with his decision). A few years ago he was contemplating joining the NRA so he could participate in some sort of rifle competition. As I said, we were not meant to be.
There were times in the past two years that I wondered if he were silly enough to be waiting around for me to move back to CT so we could be together. I am incredibly relieved to know that he wasn't. I'm a little disappointed that he didn't tell me about the wedding, he just ignored my emails for the past year. But judging by the photos - their reception was in a place I would never step foot - "Boy" found someone who is a great fit for him, and that is all you ever want for your friends, right?
Opened my mailbox this evening and found a calendar from the Commonwealth of Virginia Department of Emergency Management. Not just any calendar, mind you, but the 2008 Nuclear Emergency Planning Information Calendar. How did I not know I was living within 5 miles of a nuclear power plant??!?
On Saturday, while waiting for the oil to be changed in my car, I walked over to T.J. Maxx. I wasn't really looking for anything in particular, but then I found them: socks, size 10-13! As someone with large feet, this was very exciting. Hardly ever do you see socks in a size other than 9-11. Basically, most of the time, my socks are too small. The funny part of this whole thing was the label on the socks: "Extended size". Extended size? When I think of something that is extended, I generally think of things that are temporarily larger, longer, or bigger - an extended vacation, sale extended till Tuesday, that sort of thing. But my feet? I really don't think there is much of a chance of my toes retracting any time soon.
We are deaccessioning a few books at work. I have been looking at them for a while, but hadn't found anything that really seemed worth paying for. The other day, however, I found a copy of Make Way for Ducklings, a family favorite. It is from Dec. 1945, the seventh printing. There was also a copy from the sixth printing (Feb. '45), but this one is in better shape. The really neat thing about both copies is that on the page with the copyright there is a note:
In completely unrelated news, I bought myself a new Christmas tree today. I bought one a few years ago, but decided to leave it behind in Ann Arbor. This one is pretty much the same - 3 ft. with little white lights.
It is kind of strange getting ready for Christmas when it is just starting to feel like Halloween. The south is a strange place, that's for sure.
On a tree hugging scale of 1 to 10, I'm pretty content as a 5. I don't have any desire to run out and buy a Prius, but I do bring my own bags back and forth to the grocery store. Growing up we would always get our deposit back on soda cans and bottles. Yes, sometimes it did make me feel like a bag lady, but a nickel is a nickel, right? At my apartment complex in Michigan, and before that at my condo complex in Connecticut, there were always separate bins for newspapers and containers. At my new apartment complex in Virginia we have curbside trash pick-up. Monday and Thursday mornings the private trash hauler comes and collects whatever you put out for them. To a certain degree, this is great. No more walks in the dead of winter to the dumpster (though I doubt the experience would have been as bad here as it was in Ann Arbor). What I am having trouble with, though, is not having to separate my recyclables. All those #1 PETE containers...soda bottles...prior week's New Yorkers...just falling into the heap with everything else my neighbors and I are through with. I did separate my stuff a few times, more out of habit than anything. But then I watched the truck gobble it all up indiscriminately. We recycle at work, so I know that it isn't like the whole town/state is environmentally ignorant. Why don't we do it here in Apartmentville? Maybe I should start a petition.
Moving is so much fun I've decided to do it again. One of my neighbors smokes non-stop, and the stench has been permeating my apt since before I moved in. I maintain as healthy of a lifestyle as I can. I eat as much natural and organic food as possible, and believe that a day without exercise is a day wasted. Lung cancer is not one of my life goals. I've lived places before where you would get a minute or two of smoke when a neighbor was out on their deck or whatever, but nothing like this. You can smell it as soon as you open the door. My clothes all stink, and I can't imagine what my furniture is going to smell like by the time I move. Fortunately, my property manager has been really nice about the whole thing. Late next month I get to move to a different apt! It is going to be a bit of a pain to pack up again and to move such a short distance, but I know it will be worth it.
- The 24/7 aspect of Meijer (but not really the rest of it)
- Being biking distance to Whole Foods (heck, being within 20 miles of Whole Foods)
- Tea at the Bentley, Jim's jokes, perhaps even Prof. Crankypants
- My apartment
- Extended evening daylight
- NPR coming in loud and clear on my car radio
Things I don't miss:
- WH 311
- AATA
- Commuter North/South and the gazillion jarring stops through the Medical campus
- The 5-0's
- Game day traffic
To be continued...
