Judy Garland writing from beyond the grave

Example of a "spirit" work, as mentioned in yesterday's cataloging class related entry.

Look at me, live blogging from my grad class. Naughty, naughty.

Update: if you go to the Library of Congress and search "garland judy (spirit)" in the basic search for author/creator, you will find the bib record I linked to. Silly LOC and their timeouts. Thanks for the heads-up, Amanda!

Catalogers are a weird lot, I think

So I'm sitting here reading Chapter 4 of the Students Guide for LIS 703, and Helen Humeston, the professor and co-author of the guidebook knows how very dry the Anglo-American Cataloging Rules are, so she livens it up a bit in her own writing. Usually this means she just writes cleverly about boring things. But suddenly, I read the sentence:

"Now we come to the only faintly humorous part of AACR2. Rule 21.26A governs the way to enter a work dictated from beyond the grace. Princess Diana has been busy since she died. She is credited for two spirit books."

And then there's a bibliographic record where the MARC field looks like this:

600 00 |a Diana, |c Princess of Wales, |d 1961-1997 |c (Spirit)

And, sure enough, the actual cataloging rule says this, "Enter a communication presented as having been received from a spirit under the heading for a spirit. Make an added entry under the heading for the medium of other person recording the information."

The medium? Um, can I just say—WHAT were they thinking?!!?

Earlier tonight

On my oncoming winter pallor:

"Too bad there's no cure for paleness."
"A boyfriend who loves you."
"Aww... You are horribly cute, you know? Ridiculously cute."
"You should write that down."
"What, so I don't forget?"
"So you can remember I'm ridiculously cute."

New heights of nerdiness (MLA report)

On Tuesday and Wednesday, I attended sessions of the Minnesota Library Association conference. Tuesday, I took an ill co-worker's place at a pre-conference training workshop on cataloging sound recordings. Yesterday, I attended the Millenials/Net Gen presentation by some university librarians, and the "Are You the Librarian?" paraprofessional session presented by Valeria Fike from College of DuPage, who was named the Library Journal paraprofessional of the year.

The pre-conference training on audio cataloging was very technical and the two presenters (Kathy Blough from St. Olaf and Mary Huisman from the U of M) gave many specific, practical tips and cited the corresponding cataloging rules for everything. Learning about how to catalog new formats was actually quite interesting, since I wasn't aware of the kinds of notes that need to be made in a MARC record.

Example from Hennepin County's library catalog:

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets sound recording.

The MARC record (MARC=Machine Readable Cataloging record, a format that library computer systems can read with searchable fields and lots of strange-looking punctuation.)

In the session, we learned what types of notes to make on records for different types of audio, like super audio discs, DVD audio, and other crazy things like those books on tape that come pre-loaded on a player, which is done by Playaway. Everyone in the room seemed pretty excited about the Playaway books.

Yesterday's sessions were less hands-on practical, but I did learn that I am a millenial, part of the net-gen (or generation y) and the panel of students from Bethel was, I'm sure, enlightening for everyone in the room who isn't part of our generation. We watched a "60 Minutes" clip on this generation of kids, and it kind of grossly overgeneralized what we are like, but it was still apropos. The students on the panel were asked to talk about their typical days, and they described being very plugged in, with iPods, palm pilots, laptops, cell phones. A coworker at my table was like, "What's Facebook?" when all of the panel members admitted logging into e-mail and Facebook upon waking up. I had to raise my hand and ask them to describe it and I promised to show my coworker what it's like.

Since I am a library paraprofessional, that session was kind of affirming, except I tend to disagree with Valeria Fike on the matter of library paraprofessionals as real professionals. In that room, I didn't want to admit that I'm in school for a MLIS degree. The tips on resumes and keeping a portfolio were good, though, and I will probably do many of them to help my chances of getting a job at some later point.

After the sessions, I walked the convention floor and got some chocolate and some goodies (a tote bag from Spotlight that's pink and says, "Read!" and a few buttons). Overall, a good day, but I went home and took a long nap. I was exhausted and didn't feel all that well, but now I'm up and at 'em today with not much to do. Cataloging homework, here I come.

How the models look that good

Wow, with the retouching. And this is why sometimes I just don't even try.

Noooooo (MyFaceSpaceBook?)

Okay, well, Facebook has gone and done it. Opened the gates to the masses. And guess what? It took minutes for me to log in just now, and it's taking a loooong time to load my profile/home links. Freakin' A! If you're not someone I know in real life, don't expect me to add you.

And here I wanted a t-shirt that said, "I went to grad school and all I got was this stupid Facebook account."

Just kidding. Sort of.

My life, a list

In the next three weeks before S is back, I have the following:

Two classes and the homework involved therewith
Attendance at the Minnesota Library Association conference
A pre-MLA training session
My cousin Matt's wedding to his longtime girlfriend, Shannon
Approximately 90 hours of work
At least two Netflix DVDs to watch each week
Four books I want to finish or start reading

Yesterday evening, I got to talk to S for almost three hours. We haven't done that in a while, since he was out of range for two weeks, and before that, when he was in range, the service would cut out on us every couple minutes or so. Kind of hard to have a meaningful conversation when every other minute the call would be dropped. Last night we made up for that, and my phone even died. It was great.

Beth, an artist?

I was looking for something else online (a comment I made on another site) and came up with my debut as reader with the band my friend Val Snobeck and her husband Andrew Neher have, The Wood Knots.

I remember recording that in their Uptown apartment late one night a couple years ago. I had a cold, and Val made me tea, which was so hot I could barely sip it. Andrew let me do multiple takes with their Macintosh laptop, and all I had to do was read Val's story, banged out on a typewriter with handwritten notes. Good times.

So far away

Went out for dinner tonight after work for a coworker's going-away celebration. Waited nearly an hour to seat 12 at the Olive Garden (it's central Minnesota, okay?), planned on splitting a bottle of wine with one of my favorite coworkers. Chatted, learned my boss loves watching "Jackass" and "Ali G." Said we should all go see the Borat movie when it comes out as a group of coworkers. Totally awesome.

Ordered pasta, of course. Started feeling the wine and enjoyed the conversaton immensely. My half of the table was watching a nearby couple on their date. We guessed possibly a first. It looked so awkward, the girl with her hair in a tight updo, both of them dressed nicer than business casual. Saturday night. We all swooned when he reached for her hand, held it in both of his for about 10 seconds, then sighed when he let go. We couldn't tell if it was a dying relationship or a brand new one gaining momentum, but my sister said it would have gone better if she'd worn her hair down, for heaven's sake.

Now I'm here, in bed reading Stephanie Klein's book and listening to Carole King and wishing I could talk to S so much, but his crew is on the road to Seward from Homer, so it will be tomorrow before I can tell him about my day.

I can't wait to sleep in and knit and watch "Northern Exposure" tomorrow while it continues to rain. I'll make coffee and add whipped cream on top and eat bread all day, probably start another book if I finish the current one. And then it's another work week. Only three left until S is back. I can't help it. I think about him all the time, am so attached to him even with him away, and I'm almost sick of myself talking about him, but he's my boyfriend and I can't help it. I liked him for so long and being able to call him my boyfriend is more precious than anything else to me right now.

Photo update

I added some photos from early August when Angie got back from Ecuador and I hung out at their family's house that evening. The younger cousins were all about the trampoline that night.

Lacking the proper equipment?

I had a moral victory and loss at the same time earlier this week when I started talking to my father about my car. For as long as I can remember, he and my mom have kept track of their mileage and how much they spend on gas, and when I moved out, I stopped keeping track. The numbers are useless to me, and it's a waste of time to write down useless information. When I moved back home and my dad started checking my fluids for me again, he asked, "Where's the little mileage book?"

"Fell out somewhere in Nebraska, I guess," I lied.

I realized then that if I was living under his roof, I should probaby follow his rules. Except this past week, I got angry that I was writing this down every time I stopped to fill up. I don't care if I paid 2.669/gallon two months ago and 2.179/gallon last week. It's inconsequential.

So I told my dad, "I need to talk to you about something. You know my mileage? I don't care. It's my car, it's in my name, I pay the insurance, and I don't care about tracking my mileage. I will write down when I put in oil and check fluids, but I don't want to write down my mileage anymore."

He acquiesed. Victory! Then I asked my next question, "Can you show me how to change my oil?"

He hesitated. "You need tools," he started saying. "A jack and stands."

I was like, "You have that stuff, and I still live here..." but felt more like saying, "You mean I don't have a penis."

His response? "I could show S how to do that."

Defeat.

I wanted to yell, "But it's not his responsibility! And he isn't mechanical! And what do I do when he dumps me for someone hotter who knows how to change her own oil?!" but I didn't. Instead, I rolled my eyes. "Eve knows how to change her own oil," I told him, using the logic of school children.

"Since we use high-grade oil, I only change it once a year," was his next response.

Sometime this year, I'm going to watch him do it, and take notes.

It's another ducky day

Yesterday, Angie and I went to the noon mass at the Cathedral and then to Mississippi Bean for some coffee talk. It was great, got me out of the house on my day off, and I didn't watch any television or movies yesterday. Mostly, I just read (started Stephanie Klein's "Straight Up and Dirty").

I did, however, go shopping at Old Navy. Normally, I am Very Conservative when it comes to money and clothing. But this summer as I packed away my winter clothing, I realized how much of it is from when I was in high school or college, or how it doesn't fit me at all anymore (or never really fit me). I've spent a chunk on new jeans and some winter shirts and sweaters in the past two weeks, plus a dress to wear to my cousin's wedding at the end of the month, but I'm going to rationalize it by saying I got most of it at a discount or on sale, and I had to replace the things I got rid of or were falling apart.

Anyway, talked to S last night, and he seems okay. It was kind of weird not talking to him for two weeks, but it was also nice not being woken up at midnight by my phone ringing. I am so ready to have him back, it's not even funny, especially with the weather getting colder.

More on "Get to Work," my personal/political life

Since I read Linda R. Hirshman's "Get to Work" on Sunday, it seems like every thing I do is political. If I wipe the counter in the kitchen and I know the crumbs aren't mine, I think, Why the heck am I doing this? Or while hanging up my dad's laundry, or picking up my sister's shoes, I'm thinking, Goddammit, I don't want to do this for the rest of my life. Is that what I'm doomed to if I get married and want kids? Ridiculous.

I don't want to take Hirshman's words as gospel truth, but I see her point, I see how my options aren't really options, how whatever I "choose" wouldn't really be a "choice," how feminism hasn't come far enough, into families and marriages. I see how whoever makes the money has the power. I see the woman caring more about housework and losing out more in an imaginary divorce and then doing the (completely valueless) work herself. I don't want that to be me.

I want to be loved and adored by a man, but I also want my meaningful work. And I know my work is important, and I know it's not high-powered and hugely money making the way Hirshman defines success, but it's quite possible that I could make more money than my future husband. I've got eight years of library work under my belt, and I don't plan on giving it up for anything, especially not with the graduate degree under way.

I want what I want, and I don't want to have to try to fit into some Boundless Christian wife model. I'm a believer in Jesus, but I don't feel that this means my husband's work takes precedence over my work. I could care less about the "biblical model," as Candice Watters calls it, when it comes to my resume vs. his.

That's when I just get pissed off, the way I can tell Linda Hirshman got pissed off, and I want to scream and have every woman who's in college read this book as part of that "Life Skills 401" class I think should be offerred at the end of everyone's senior year. Because this is life-changing stuff, and it's everyone's business.

And now, on my one day off this week, wherin I work nearly 40 hours and do graduate school homework and my own laundry and cooking, I am going to attend noon mass at the Cathedral.

Completely unrelated topics entry!

I think I'm going to get back into my knitting sometime soon. I tend to watch movies and knit mindlessly, but lately my wrists have been hurting/tingling, and that's never a good feeling. It's too bad that some of my favorite activities (checking books in and out, knitting, typing) involve my stupid wonky wrists.

On an unrelated note, I plan on being a friendly, customer-service oriented librarian when I grow up and finish my degree. Being kind and "service with a smile" makes patrons want to use the library time and again, and will convince them to vote for more library funding, and on down the line. One smile at a small child, one "hello" to anyone who enters the library, goes a long way toward making an entire library system a place people want to be. For real.

Forget dancing all night, I want to cuddle

Freakin' A! I keep saying that lately, and I don't really know why. It is one of my cute little Bethy quirks, like how, when people come to the circulation desk and say, usually sheepishly, "I think I lost my library card..." or "I think my card is expired..." I have the tendency to say, in a pseudo-aghast way, "Oh dear!" and then I smile and say all the usual reassuring things about how it's only a dollar for a new card if it's lost, and it's free if it's just old! Free! No worries, folks!

Anyway, with the freakin' A. I was compelled to request the book, "The Five Love Languages, Men's Edition" or whatever it's titled by Gary Chapman, I think (I'm not in cataloging class at this very moment, okay?). I was thumbing through it on my break the other day. Mr. Chapman describes (in an overly thorough way, in my opinion) each love language (for review: quality time, words of affirmation, gifts, physical touch, acts of service) and then at the end of each chapter, gives very excellent suggestions for guys to do for their wives (it's aimed at married dudes, so of course I will hand it to S as soon as he steps off that plane in 27 days).

For a time, I wasn't sure exactly which love language is mine, specifically. So I was reading the tips sections to see which one spoke to me the loudest. For quality time, I was like, "This sounds great," and then for "Acts of service," I was like, "I guess..." but for physical touch, I very nearly melted there in the break room at the library. All the ideas would have me a puddle on the floor every day. One of the suggestions was, "When your wife has a head cold, massage her forehead," and because my fall allergies have been bothering me a lot lately, my head is congested and I was thinking, "Freakin' A! Why isn't S here to rub my forehead?!" And the thing is, S is awesome when it comes to physical touch, what with holding my hand all the time and sitting close and big hugs and cuddle sessions.

Also, gotta love Mr. Chapman for writing, in the gifts section, something like, "It can't hurt to say this again guys: jewelry pretty much always works." Swoosh.

That's my only advice: think twice

Now that the weather has turned cool, and I've taken to leaving my window open a crack at night for the free air conditioning, it feels really wrong to be without S. It was around this time last year that I'd gotten my new job at the library and was applying to graduate school and was agonizing over my friendship with S.

Now, everything is as it is, probably as it should be, and I am very happy with the general state of things, but less happy with the specific state of things. I have to remind myself it's less than a month until my boyfriend is back, and there will be more grad classes that are more interesting, and then fulfill myself with books and other happy things.

Cast some light, it'll be all right

Class yesterday got really long and we kept going over AACR2 and the eight areas for book cataloging, and I was pretty much in the know once I'd read the chapter so it felt like a lot of going over things I already understood. Thankfully, Angie went with me to the cities. We'd originally planned to try to get rush tickets to see Joshua Bell at the Ordway with the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra, but after class I was quite hungry as were both of them, and we got awesome food from Carbone's near St. Kate's and then went to the Mall of America. Depressing place. By the time we left for the mall, it was pretty obvious we wouldn't make the rush line in time, so we just went back to Eve and Simon's apartment after shopping and many traffic detours.

Today I did my assignment for class, which isn't due for another two weeks. This class, a lot of work? Pffft. I think I may read ahead, because I don't think I'm going to become overwhelmed with three 5 point assignments throughout the class and one 10-page 25 point paper due at the end of class.

I also started reading Linda R. Hirshman's "Get to Work" today, and I'm going to finish it before bed. I'm definitely going to ask S to read it, too. Reading it makes me angry and annoyed and self-righteous and probably not fun to be around, but it does make me think about my life and my career goals and my desire for marriage, which never hurts to examine from a new perspective.

Crosses all over the boulevard

I am so glad that I have my current job. My boss has been really great about my schedule now that I'm in library school, and he even loaned me his copy of the Anglo-American Cataloging Rules for my class. Have I mentioned how we even have computers for use on our breaks? This place has been really supportive and particularly nurturing for me and my family, considering that Andrea works here, too.

I have the next four days off, which means I have two days to do my homework, Saturday is another class, and then Sunday is also free. This is amazing to me on many levels, namely that my boss said I can just come into work on the opposite Saturdays, which means I will still have off many days in a row. Schweet.

Checking off my list

I have this list of people I need to call, including Marcia from the Minnesota Library Association about my registration for this fall's conference, my voice teacher Marcie, my doctor for another appointment, and one of S's references so I can send off his resume for a job opening. I've been able to cross out three things on my list so far, but the others will probaby have to wait. I got the things for S done, though. Man, what am I, his girlfriend or his secretary? I'm kidding, I actually asked him if I could put in his resume for an opening I found, and he was very enthusiastic, so it's just an act of service showing my love for him.

Last night, some coworkers and Andrea and I took out another coworker for his 21st birthday. Nothing huge, just walked to a restaurant and had some happy hour appetizers and drinks (it was Monday night) and caught the end of the Vikings game (woo! we won!! like I care...). So due to that, I didn't get to bed until around 11:30 and then worked at 8 this morning, so I am debating whether I should call my cousin Angie to go on a bike ride or not. I guess I could call and see if she's around, anyway.

A post about how self-centered I really am

Crapity crap on a stick. I just realized that the Naomi Shihab Nye reading at the Loft that I was so excited to go to with my college friends is on September 30th, a day I thought I just had class and then could hop to downtown Minneapolis for a good old poetry reading and even maybe go out afterward with my friends and the said famous poet who is in literary/poetry anthologies everywhere.

But I was wrong.

I have a cousin getting married that day, so immediately after class I'm headed to the Millenium Hotel on Nicollet Mall.

Man, in my family, cousins get married all the time, but I might not get to meet Naomi frickin' Shihab Nye any other time! Ugh. I will just have to tell myself that she will be back, and she's friends with my friend, so I'll meet her sometime, just not September 30, 2006.

We were in love

Seeing José González and Zero 7 on Friday night was pretty fun. Andrea and I had dinner with Alyssa Knese and Michael Byrne at Leeann Chin where conversation was mostly about Ethnic Wal-Mart which is on University Avenue. After we ate, we dropped Alyssa off and the three of us music snobs went to the show at the Fine Line. Michael, who is the DJ and king of new music among us, kept comparing the show to when he saw Lil' Wayne with Alyssa. I was all, "Why do you keep talking about Lil' Wayne? This is nothing like seeing Lil' Wayne." And he was like, "I only go to raves or DJs, so my only comparison to a real concert is when I saw Lil' Wayne." Criminy.

We all agreed that Zero 7 should have played more old stuff, like "In the Waiting Line," instead of so much new stuff which is okay, but not nearly as chill as their first album. Anyway. José was awesome, and the reworkings of his songs with Zero 7 were pretty sweet. I keep listening to "Veneer" and Michael found a live version of his cover of Massive Attack's "Teardrop," which is lovely.

Staying with Katie Jorgensen was awesome. It worked out really well, even though Andrea and Katie were both sick. We went to Axel's Bonfire for dinner last night after they picked me up from my class, and then got coffee and dessert at Cafe Latte and looked at stuff at J. Crew and Pottery Barn on Grand Ave. Katie is such a sweetheart and I had a really good time even though I vastly overestimated the size of my own stomach.

My first class went well, some familiar faces from my first class were there, which made me feel infinitely more comfortable. It doesn't seem like cataloging will be all that complex to understand. Professor Humeston went over the tools that we will use for our assignments, and her attitude was pretty much like, students make this more complicated than they need to. There is a tool for every task, you just have to know where to look. Cataloger's Desktop is going to be my good buddy for the next three months.

Other good news: S should be home in around 36 days. I am so desperate to see him.

A quote from Andrea on the subject of the Armin Van Burren show changing nights, and she's missing it

"Ahhh! Fudge machine!"

Momentary pause.

"Plus, his tour schedule is: Europe, Minneapolis, Ibiza!"

Kind of hate...

I kind of hate how the biggest change in my life recently is the new Facebook feeds feature. I like it, because I am all about the convenience of feeds (Bloglines anyone?) but I can see how overly detailed it makes all of my friendships. It does save me time, though, since now I can see exactly when Brian Wilken removes specific movies from his interests, like "Heavyweights" and adds "Van Wilder." Also, I can see updated photos lickity split, which is probably the best thing this site has going anyway (uploads! of photos! how novel! Flickr anyone?).

Jeez.

Additionally, when I tried to come to Blogger to write this, I started to type "booger." Booger—the new Blogger!

Listening to Andain in the morning is good

I am so glad that I got to talk to S last night for quite a while before the Alaskan cell service started crapping out on us. Also glad it started working again a couple hours later and I got to talk to S even more. I have this disease called being in love with my boyfriend and it makes it really weird and/or difficult to not talk to him or about him for at least 30% of the day.

I am eating banana coffee cake and drinking cold milk for breakfast. I usually wake up about an hour before I need to get to work, give or take ten minutes. I wash my hair/shower, dress, and eat breakfast. I can skip the shower if I'm running late, but I cannot, under any circumstances, skip breakfast. I need the yummy in my tummy in the morning.

I did a good portion of my reading homework yesterday for LIS 703 (a.k.a. "Cataloging") and I just have one chapter of the Students' Guide to read for Saturday. There isn't a lot of reading listed on the syllabus (oh how I love me some syllabi) so I think the homework level must be pretty high. I think I'll start looking through the Anglo-American Cataloging Rules, 2nd edition (a.k.a. AACR2) so I have some idea of what I'm up against. Although for a time commitment, a class that meets eight times over three months is simply not going to be as intense as my first class, which met 13 times over a month and a half.

P.S. I did actually fall asleep quite well last night and would have slept through except for S calling, and even after we talked for a while, I fell right back asleep. Ahh, exercise. I'm going to do something similar today.

My fortune from tonight's meal: "You will get a great deal on a major purchase."

After a huge dinner of Chinese buffet with my parents, I knew I had to do something active and get out of the house or I would surely fall asleep on the couch while watching the BBC version of Dickens' "Bleak House" and then not be able to sleep normally tonight. So I hopped on my mom's bike and pedalled over to my aunt and uncle's house in order to find a cousin with whom to go on a bike ride.

None of my older cousins were home, and I was on the driveway talking to my little cousins, saying, "Does anyone want to go on a ride with me?" This turned into me biking behind my 13-year-old cousin Emily and her friend Kristin to Oak Hill School's playground, about two miles away, where we met up with my uncle Frank and Nick and Maggie, my two younger cousins, with another friend, Grant, and played on the massive playground equipment for a good long time, then biked back.

Now I am sufficiently well-exercised for today, since I also exercised this morning. I hope I can get to sleep and be all right for my work week ahead. But first, starting another book...

Definitely not gonna buy that book by Wilkie Collins he tried to read

I'm loving The Polysyllabic Spree by Nick Hornby right now. I only have about 20 pages left, and I am so sad to see them go. It's combining my love for all things British, books about books, and—this summer—football (U.S. vernacular: soccer). Weirdly, I haven't read many of the books Hornby mentions in his Believer columns, but I have read J.D. Salinger and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time and my share of Dickens, so it's sort of a connection regardless. It isn't literary, it's just so frickin' good.

And I haven't ever read another Nick Hornby book in my life, though I have seen the British version of "Fever Pitch" and "About a Boy" and even "High Fidelity."

In a bit, I am headed out into the rain to meet up for my friend Jenna's Barnes & Noble going-away party, but I am so tired that I will probably stay for about an hour and then come home and crash into bed. Because that usually goes so well for me. Scoff.

At times, my brain fails me

Sometimes, when I am annoyed at some aspect of my relationship, like missing S to a serious degree, I get so caught up in wanting to fix the problem, make it better, reestablish harmony, that I forget how happy I am just to be dating S. Our "serious dating" was a long time coming, and hard won for me. When he did finally admit feelings for me, I nearly fell over.

We'd been "friends" for so long, I never thought anything would change. Whenever something would happen in my life, I would have the urge to tell him about it, but he was actually always the last person to know anything. If I felt stressed out or in a bad mood, I wanted to talk to him so much, but I wouldn't. He would call and we would basically talk about nothing. But it was good, solid nothing, if that makes sense. We would talk about family, but not personally, and religion, but not individually, etc.

I take it for granted now that when I want to share something with him, I can. I call, he answers, we talk about it, he encourages me or comforts me or is excited for me. Sometimes I randomly text message him, and he messages or calls back. It's great, this level of communication and commitment. I want to remember, though, that it hasn't always been like this. It's only been like this for ten months, and I feel more at peace now with my life than ever.

For future reference (see: October)

I really want to be part of The Smooch Project. Me and S and Cata and Andrea would make some good ones, I think.

Purging

Something came over me and I started cleaning out my closet and my desk and my other desk. I have this really strong urge to throw away things that I don't need or want anymore, and to get my stuff down to a minimum. Gone are lots of old scraps of paper with notes on them, receipts from years ago, and I put a bunch of grade school and high school stuff in a file box to store somewhere else in the house.

The only thing I have a really hard time parting with are books. But the thing is, I don't actually buy that many books, since I work at the library and mainly just borrow whatever I want to read. Exceptions are books I absolutely love and will read again, and I'm not going to get rid of those anyway, so it's a moot point.

After all this cleaning and organizing, I feel gross and tired. Probably will spend the rest of the afternoon lazing around, reading, listening to music, and watching yet another Cary Grant movie.