I had hushpuppies for the first time on Sunday. I now have found the vehicle for tarter sauce, one of the most beloved of sauces ("she's got sauce" (I couldn't resist)). I've been on the hunt for fake fish sticks, but food science/technology hasn't caught-up to the desires of us vegetarians yet.
Here's an idea: write a blog in voice of someone from years ago, create a character and blog from that perspective (dirty disco dancer from the 70's perhaps). That's what I thought this blog was: Pepy's Diary but was saddened to learn it really is a diary afterall. Clever or no?
I am IM-ing with a student right now whose topic, I thought, was an indictment speech about not allowing elderly people to drive. It blew my Diet-Coke-drenched mind. Now, let's get straight about one thing, I didn't ask him his assignment, I asked him his exact topic, he willingly volunteered the rest. SO, I advised him against using that specific topic as he might risk offending his audience. Through a frustrating series of questions/answers I discovered that his actual topic is along the lines of forcing more testing on senior citizens. Here's the rub, in library school it was pounded into my brain in advanced reference that I really shouldn't give my opinion on topics, because if I do, I risk that the patron/student won't feel comfortable asking for help when researching future topics for fear of our reactions. Truly, it should be annonymous in nature. YET, the student in me couldn't let that one slide. Dilemma. I feel guilty now, can't help it.
I have been trying to type with one hand today, just to see what it's like.
It's mighty quiet here in the library tonight. I want to stand-up on the reference desk and start singing: "Come on feel the noise, girls rock your boys," but I won't.
Those wee little babies who felt it necessary to view my current apartment TWICE in two days, never dropped-off the rental application. So today the management company worker came knocking on my door at 9am with someone else wanting to view my apt. DUDE, I don't work until 1pm on Tuesdays. Chill. Or, better yet, how about 1) effin call a girl first before pounding, 2) CALL THOSE IDGITS TO FIND OUT IF THEY ARE TAKING THE PLACE BEFORE TAKING MORE APPOINTMENTS, 3) Let me outta my lease already or let me sublet, I have taken about 7 appointments now, I can't even pack as a result and I leave this week for NYC.
What is wrong with people? These two wee little babies are not buying the place. It's just renting kids. Plus, there are only two buildings in all of SF that look like this and are brand new, they are the nicest in the G-Damn city. Seriously.
Meow says Chel (my Siamese torturer). Or, better yet, mew as her meower has never really worked quite right.
I taught my second-to-last class. Tomorrow is the last one and then it's BUH-BYE.
Happy moment of the day: my last trip to Taco Johns, mmmm, mmm, good. It was weird though, I ordered a taco salad without the beef and they brought it out with a big, steaming pile of beef. At this Taco John's they deliver the food to your table (??) so this tiny old lady delivered the scrump-dilly-icious meal and I had to explain to her not once, not twice, but three times what I wanted. It went something like this:
Server Lady: Here you go.
Me: This was supposed to have beans instead of beef.
Server Lady: What?
(We go around like this several times, then she leaves and returns a couple minutes later and says...)
Server Lady: So you wanted extra lettuce then since you don't want beef?
Me: No, beans instead of beef.
Server Lady: Beans instead of beef?
Me: YEs, exactly.
Server Lady: So you want me to take this back then?
Me: Yes, please.
I know this rocked her world as I am living in the heartland where every meal contains a dead body.
Oh, and I'm going to attempt to cut cheese out of my life for a month, I think I'm getting strung-out.
The countdown is on, one and a half more hours here at the desk on my last night shift. Goodbye.....
Over and out~
Danielle "wearing her Obey fashionable top" Beckrock
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