...by means of a trip to the public library, where I checked out three extremely funny books:
Helen Fielding's Bridget Jones' Diary, which I have listened to but never actually read;
Beth Lisick's (a San Francisco comedy writer) Everybody into the Pool;
and the impeccable Hugh Laurie's first book The Gun Seller, which I have vague recollections of possibly having already read, but maybe not, and anyway who cares.

I think I may enjoy the public library even more now, if such a thing is possible. I mostly just enjoy the sensation of being in a library where I'm not responsible for how things work; where I don't have to report problems, where the collection is actually entertaining. Days on weeks of staring at nothing but technical manuals has left my brain mush and my soul dry. Perhaps this is an overstatement but you get what I am saying.

Our public library has a good collection but cranky circ staff - sigh. I have to wonder about how I would feel about my encounter of getting a library card tonight (I know, I know, I've been putting it off) if I wasn't in the business myself. The woman didn't smile, barely went through the rules, didn't point out the building hours or give a map, and sighed a lot, as if getting my card was a burden. On the other hand, she wasn't inherently in a bad mood - she was perfectly nice to a small child that asked her for help, and was nice enough when I checked out my books. I can understand being on the wrong end of a long evening shift (the library closes at 9pm, this was around 8pm) and being overworked as closing staff. But if there's anytime when you should muster yourself to be nice and outgoing, it's when helping a brand-new patron, such as giving out a new card. That impression can color what people think of the library - at that moment, you are the librarian, the library, and the town representative all rolled up into one. What if it's the person's first library card ever? Just because I look like a grad student in this town, doesn't mean I am one... and this is an issue that goes well beyond professionalism versus paraprofessionalism, or staff that are better trained versus those that aren't. Lots of people in my profession have trouble with the idea that a large part of effective reference and communication is watching a person, listening hard, being welcoming in your body language, and always having a ready smile. I came across something somewhere today (I was reading a lot of blogs, and the links all blurred together) that argued that the anti-social tendencies that drew many people into the profession are entirely the wrong ones to have today - and I couldn't agree more. In that circ encounter I recognized a reserved woman, not effusive, and probably tired - like so many librarians and library staff we've all known in our lives. But a smile would have done so much to ease the encounter. I've had to teach myself to be outgoing on the desk, and I'm still working on it - but I work at it as hard as I work to learn Chem Abs, or where the mathematical physics books are, or any of the other things I need to do my job.

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In other news, today I found Source Watch, a mediawiki implementation that documents corporate firms and lobbyists and (somehow) has an overseeing editor (at first glance, it's unclear how this works). Emulating WP, they have a List of lists.

In the laundrymat, 8:30pm: a younger gentleman folding his laundry who looked like a flashback to a Haight-Ashbury poster. He was wearing: a burgundy and white western-style shirt, candy-striped tight trousers (predominently in pink and red, with green and white for added effect), and a full beard. Also, his hair was done up in braided pigtails. Also, a sheriff's badge.
I shit you not. Also, he kept looking over at me as if I was the weird one (and I mean this in the kindest and most accurate way possible).
I couldn't help but speculate why he might be dressed this way. Costume party? Reunion in San Francisco? The Davis Love-in? I felt like going over and asking what circumstances had forced him to adopt the wearing of my father's old clothes.

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2nd sighting: the food co-op has its own brand of house wine. For cheap! I had to buy some, as that is simply too adorable. It is from Sonoma County and says "Davis Food Co-op" right on the label. It's also not half bad to drink, as house wines go.

One upside to moving here: only in Northern-to-Central California can you go to a farmer's market in the end of January (and have it be going strong, with the outside temperature around 60f) and buy:

- strawberries
- olive oil
- avocados
- swiss chard
- grapefruit
- walnuts
- lavender

And be reasonably assured that it's all local, and generally very local -- within a few dozen miles of here.

This truly is an amazing climate.

edited, because it is not in fact mid-february yet, and it is past being mid-jan. I am just confused all the way around. February's been on the brain lately because I am doing so much crap then.