These colors don't run and neither did Hitler

but they sure do crack and fade. I love when people have these stickers, almost as fabulous as the dirty torn flags that people fly.

And on another note:



You've got to be kidding me. Oh, Tampa. Here's another great descriptor of the city:



Nothing like schools and guns together. It's been a really fabulous combo thus far.

Go Bulls!

The puppy

I have no idea why, and the how is very complicated, but I now have a dog. I don't even like dogs. I do adore this one though. He's like a cat that likes to go for car rides and walks. He has some health and behavioral issues, but we're working on them. The only thing he doesn't have is a name. I usually call him Puppy, sometimes Foxy, occasionally "The Boss", and the vet calls him Paco. Poor thing is schizo enough, I really should settle on a name soon. Any thing jumping out at you? Here are some pictures, but he's not very photogenic.


doesn't he even look like a cat from behind?

Odd and ridiculous news

Bush pushes Congress on 'No Child' law

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20071010/ap_on_go_pr_wh/bush

It looks like Yahoo! has been taking lessons on titling from the US Government. I'm surprised the government doesn't actually call it the "No Child" law. It would be rather fitting on several levels.

-----------

Apparently I may end up being a corporate librarian after all. Please at least glance at this article. It is a very disturbing recent trend.


http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134980

Still nothing funny in the basement

Despite lots of new material, nothing has been very amusing in the basement lately. Instead, the place is just plain creepy. This guy has been lurking around and monitoring the Muslims. I don't really know how to handle the situation other than to monitor him. It's a big circle of mistrust, since I think the Muslims don't trust me. Any suggestions?

In other news, I thought I would share something ridiculous about me. My other ridiculous lists require too much thought and energy, so they will have to wait until my energy levels raise. On a positive note, I am slightly less fat than before, and I have been feeling less pathetic and lonely. But anyway, back to the ridiculousness.

Today I realized what a freak I am for never wearing my glasses. You know how people talk around about how they couldn't find their glasses and it turned out they were on their head. Yeah, I'm the opposite. Today I touched my head and freaked out. Where were my glasses? They are always on my head, serving their primary function of a headband, but they weren't there. I started to freak out about where I could have misplaced them, when I realized I was actually wearing them for a change.

So why don't I wear my very expensive glasses?

I do have some decent reasons:

1. I have had such bad vision for so long that I'm just plain used to not being able to see.
2. They hurt my eyes, my optometrist finds this very strange, but I swear it's true.
3. My vision is getting progressively worse. Now I can't read at all while wearing my glasses. Since I almost always reading this is really quite annoying. Honestly, I read constantly. In the shower I read the back of the shampoo bottles, I read my mail while I drive (if not the newspaper), I even get up the middle of the night and check my email. Thank god at least it's not as bad for me as the other things I can't do in moderation-- food and alcohol.

But the biggest reason I don't wear my glasses makes absolutely no sense at all, and is probably the most ridiculous thing about me. Most girls don't wear their glasses because they think that others will find them unattractive. This is not my problem. My issue is that when I wear my glasses I find myself unattractive.

Not in the "my glasses make me look ugly" sense. No, that would be far too reasonable.

Rather, wearing my glasses makes me see how unattractive I actually am. The random glance of my reflection while wearing my glasses is a terrifying sight. I always think- "I don't actually look like that, do I?" It's a very similar experience to the first time I did acid. I couldn't step away from the mirror. I was obsessed with my ugliness. I washed my face, put on makeup, washed my face again, put on makeup again. This went on for hours.

Luckily, just like the acid trip, it does eventually end. Only now it doesn't take 10 hours, I just have to take off my glasses. Immediately, my skin looks nicer, my nose less obtuse, my hair less frizzy, my eyes less bloodshot, and my teeth much whiter.
Logically I know that in no way is my fuzzy vision transfered to others by not wearing my glasses, but this does not register in my brain. I just think, "hmmm, I look much better now."

Now that's ridiculous.

Ridiculously wrong things my family told me growing up...

No one gives a damn about government documents. Lately, neither do I. This week I will try to post several lists of ridiculous things that have been said to me (or by me).

Our first list is the easiest. I encourage comments of your own. I know that many of you must have some great ones of these too.

Some of the most ridiculously wrong things my family said to me growing up:

1. Sorry Vera, but we only have enough money to send one of you to private school now, and your brother has more potential than you.

2. No, we didn't drown the kittens.

3. One day you and your brother will be best friends.

4. Slavery wasn't wrong, slaves were like part of the family.

5. Isn't my little girl sexy? This photo of her in her bathing suit really shows off her figure.

(followed immediately by...)

6. It's okay honey, you can go with him, he's not a creepy old stranger at the bar, he's a family friend.

7. Are you pregnant? (I was 12).

8. Do you wanna go get some rolled tacos? Great, let's go to that place next to my bar. You don't mind eating in the car, do you?

break

Well, a few people are still reading this blog, but I'm not sure why. I seem to have lost my sense of humor. I think it must be tied to fattening food. Fat people are funny.

My unhealthy lifestyle of the past couple of years has really caught up to me, so I've had to be pretty strict with my food intake to get back to a healthier me.

It's hard to think when you constantly feel like you're going to faint.

I'll try to post daily still, but it'll probably just be random rants until my brain starts to respond again, or when I break down and attack a pint of Ben & Jerry's.

better left unsaid, but I've never been very good at that

People always tell me that I'm a strong woman. I've never really understood what that means. Supposedly it's tied to my opinionated nature and is a big reason (probably not the biggest!) behind my lack of luck with the opposite sex.

I've never felt strong. Being here in Florida, out of my comfort zone, really hits that home. The person who knows me best was worried that being here alone, working alone, and taking classes that barely meet was going to send me further down a path of isolation that I was well on my way to before I left. She was right.

I'm used to being alone, most of the time I actually prefer it. My social anxiety encourages it. People terrify me. I can't do a lot of things that normal people do, I can't even call to order a pizza. I gave up dating ages ago because I'm so darn awkward. Back in the day, when this guy I adored first put his hand on my arm I screamed, "Don't touch me!". He was crazy enough to keep trying, but most won't and shouldn't. Besides, they don't even get that close anymore. I hide when I see people on whom I have crushes. Literally, I hide. I duck around a corner, I put a book in front of my face, I burrow a quick hole, I'll do anything to get away.

I don't mind the idea of never finding the "love of my life". I'm happy being single, an unattainable crush is just perfect for my needs (I could use one of those), but I'm not happy being completely alone out here. I know eventually I will make friends, but it's hard to imagine that right now.How can I make friends when I have no social outlets that force me to make them? I used to look down on all those people who would join the ISO for friends, they were so easy to spot. They dripped pathetic. Now I am one of those people. I was actually considering heading over to the next "I'm a born-again-hardcore-Christian-reformist-spineless-should be kicked in the face by Trotsky" Socialist Party meeting to get to know some people.

What the fuck? What have I become? I will not be this person! As I drove around Tampa today, lost as all hell, I rediscovered my love for the Gorilla Biscuits.

I will Start Today.

Okay, maybe tomorrow, and, oh yeah, not the drinking part.

I am done with this line though. No more talk about San Diego, loneliness, badmouthing Florida. I'm done. I may not be here for long, but I will have fun while I'm here.

On a contradictory note (and for the picture of the day), my creepy neighbor came by to see if I'd like to come over and have some "coffee". I literally looked like this, but with a scowl not a smile:



Can you say Lhasa Apso? Can I spell it? At least that's one problem solved. I don't think he's coming back.

bonus post

It's your lucky day. I wanted to post these pictures that I took today, but they don't relate to anything so I thought I would just give them their own space.



Yeah, the government section is so unpopular that not only do people come to pray, they also come to sleep! It's hard to see because I think taking pictures of strangers is exploitative.

The Hate Speech Desk:



I need to get this removed, but I have no idea how. Maybe by hammer. It's also sad that there are too many students and too few study spots that people still sit here.

Eat your Wheaties, stop a riot

I make no secret of the fact I dislike the US government. However, I am glad that people have fought and fought over the years to keep the government open. Their work, which is in desperate need today, allows me to read these things that the government reports about my people.

Like this one:


And many of you know I own and love:



Now here's another thing, the government's classification system rocks. It is organized by department, by subject, by document type, and by year. They could use to make their online catalog more accessible, but the physical collection is really quite user friendly. Things that are related are always next to each other. If that's not the case it's because something has been misplaced. That's what makes the picture below so amusing.*



The government must believe that urban unrest stems from retardation due to lack of a high-fiber diet!



*I must admit that while these books were absolutely in the same section, I did place them directly next to each other for the photo. The other books around them were similar and the effect was there, but this just made for a better picture.

Could you be a high school economics teacher?

I thought I could until I opened this study guide. I'm pretty sure I'd flunk.

Actually, all of these answers suck, but the right answer is too complicated to make funny.

The attic redux

I pulled down the stairs, gingerly made my way up, pulled the light fixture cord, looked around, and saw:



I turned to the right and saw:



I turned again and saw:



I looked a little closer to my right and saw:



and then I fled in fear like the coward that I am.

Now, you may be thinking- "that doesn't look scary", but you weren't there, so shut up!

The overriding fear comes from the high rat potential. Those who know me well are well aware that I have a bad history with rats. Even some of those people have never really heard the whole story so here goes...

When I was a teenager my mom passed away and my father was an awful drunk who was never home. Somehow our house became infested with dozens of wild rats. They were everywhere. I could hear them rummaging through my mattress when I slept. Sometimes I would have to bat them off of me in the middle of the night. My brother put out glue traps to catch them and I would come home to their struggling for life and their chewing off body parts in search of freedom. My brother would kill them with a baseball bat to put them out of their misery. Even today, if you came to my house you might wonder-"why do Vera's family photo albums and old books have such ragged edges?". It was the rats, they ate everything. Luckily, my now stepmother eventually let me come live with her and I was able to escape the rat-house.

Now, I don't have an irrational fear of rats. I actually still think they are very cool creatures. Before, and actually during, the rat infestation I had a pet rat. He was one of my closest friends, but I had to give him away because I was so freaked out by the rat-house. I

On the less traumatic side (for me anyway), I then worked at a restaurant that was infested with rats. They would run across the floor during the dinner rush. People would always ask what that rumbling in the ceiling was and I would lie and say the roof was being repaired. Our storage room was downstairs and when you walked down there, the first thing you would see in the darkness was hundreds of eyes staring at you from the shelves of food. The worst part was the smell. Glue traps were placed under the booths and when people started to complain about the smell we would know that a rotting rat sat under their bum. That was a little more difficult to try to explain. The craziest part of this story for y'all is that the health department knew all about it. They came out several times and the problem was so rampant that it was impossible to hide. So, you would assume that the restaurant would fail inspection. But no, they even received an "A" because they were addressing the problem with the ineffective rat traps.

So, when I was on the ladder (I never even made it further) and saw the clothes tumbled and covered with wood chips I knew that the rats are there. I didn't see one, I didn't hear one, but they're there.

It's like they're following me.

the attic visit

expored the attic today. Creepy. Pictures posted tomorrow.

New Friday Theme-You Make the Punchline!

OK, I don't have a lot of readers, so you're all gonna have to pitch in here!

I thought I'd start you off with an easy one. How DO you technically correct a Native American?

A Day in the Life of a Library Assistant

Despite working 6 hours (twice my normal day, oh so exhausting) I didn't find a single document that made me laugh. So instead of a document photo today I will give you somewhat of a guided tour of my day.

I walk out of the house and am greeted by the thing Tampa has most--religion. This is a newly remodeled LDS church.


I head down my tree lined street, though usually I stick to the sidewalk.


If it's not too swampy I cut across one of the many open spaces on campus


sometimes stopping to take a photo, like this one of my monster shadow


or a squirrel on a palm tree


I vomit as I pass this building


I arrive at the library. Isn't it weird that it's just called the Library?


I head toward my now clean workstation:


I stamp a lot books for disposal, finally taking out my revenge!


I get excited about this celestial globe that somehow ended up in my area (anyone know what this is called for real?)



I wonder if this 4 by 6 postcard from 1989 of a freeway system in CA is really still necessary for our collection (can anyone name the city? This one I actually know)



As I file more new microfiche for 2 1/2 hours I wonder whose night of heavy smoking keeps them from going to work?


I walk through aisles of manila envelopes looking for just the right one



My six hours are up so I stop upstairs, grab some books, study for a bit, and check out the view of roller coasters across the street with downtown in the background haze


I leave the library and walk through my favorite spot on campus:


I arrive home and the prepare for the return of the nothing

If Karl Marx came today back he'd say...

"Get that ignorant cur off the stage!"

Yes, I decided to attend the showing of Marx in Soho at my campus. At first I was worried. I had obligated myself to writing a review, but I'm not much of a drama critic.

Bob Weick's performance was overall quite decent and well updated (with Zinn's approval). Sure, he slipped in and out of various accents. He also used a lot more theatrics than Brian Jones's version (the apostrophe is correct. Well, according to those twits who make grammar rules anyway) and perhaps an argument of over-acting could be waged. However, overall it was a powerful, well-done piece.

But the story does not end there. I was going to skedaddle after the show ended but there was a "talkback" session and I decided to stay.

The first words out of Weick's mouth were, "Personally, I'm a patriot."

It didn't get any better.

The crowd was energized, and many people asked very astute questions, but Weick clearly has little political connections to the work and his answers were moderate and focused more on his interpretations of Marx's personal life while stumbling on the more political questions.

Unfortunately for Weick, understanding Marx's character requires an understanding of his politics.

I know I should have stood up and shouted that this treatment was scandalous, that Marx's views are still as relevant today as they were 150 years ago. That opening "dialogues" and restoring our nation to its "noble foundations" will not solve anything.

Instead, I sat their quiet and bitter. What would Marx say to me?

fun in the fiche

I spent the other day filing new microfiche. I didn't even know that microfiche was still the preferred form of storage these days. I associate it with the 80's. The other odd part of this is that they all come from a private corporation. I suppose these days that's not unusual, but the government does have their own printing office. Have they not yet caught up with 20 year old technology?

I really didn't expect to find much amongst the fiche. It's much harder to pay attention to the document when you have to squint to read the title. This one did pop out to me:


I'm sorry what was that word? Let's take a closer look:


Since when did the government hire 50 Cent?

the perfect flagpole

You gotta love my crappy landlords for this one. It's beautiful in its emptiness.

have to skip a day

Sorry my loyal readers (all 10 of you), but I am staying at my folks tonight and they haven't caught up with wireless technology yet, so no document today. I had a really bizzare one ready for you too. Oh well.

Tomorrow is another day. I am also attending Marx in Soho (not starring Brian Jones) tomorrow night, and will try to do a review. Part of me wants to skip it entirely. If it is not as good than I will have wasted my very precious time, if it's better than I will never be able to enjoy the Jones version in the same way again.

My life is so complicated.

Oh Captain! My Captain!

The US Government hard at work:





Now, I've never been much of a comic book fan. I really don't know much about Captain America, so this was a bit of a shocker for me. Captain America was a sellout!

Of course I'm not quite sure why I'm surprised. All things bad for you seem to have their propaganda outlet geared toward children. Camel had Joe, Fruit Loops has Toucan Sam, Cocaine has Lindsay Lohan, the US government has our Captain...

the attic

OK, this blog is late, but if you're on the west coast I made it just in time. It also has nothing to do with books, the government, libraries, marxism, or any of my peculiar interests.

This week you have the opportunity to affect my life, literally.

I want to know whether I should climb up into this scary hole in my ceiling, or as the locals call it, the attic.

Notice the lovely popcorn ceiling?

Surprisingly, it is not the twigs held together with push-pins that they call a ladder that scares me. Hey, it says it was built to hold people much heavier than me.

Rather, it is the horrors that will await me upon my arrival.

For one, this complex is crawling with things. There are creatures everywhere. For the most part they scurry away as I walk down the path to my apartment, but a good rain brings them sneaking in. Frogs, bugs, lizards, etc. I spend a few hours each week returning these friends to the wild. What has made it up into the nice dry attic is truly unimaginable.

Next, it's not like this place is ran for the love of renting to students and the lumpenproletariat. No, its for profit. Everything about this place is poorly cared for. The walls are painted over wallpaper from 20 years ago that is peeling left and right. Things fall apart around here more than Bush fucks up his words. What may still exist up there from previous tenants is terrifying. It could be nothing, but it could be anything.

Who's ready to come for a visit?

Sometimes when I sit at my table, the ladder will slowly start to lower on its own. At least I hope it's on its own.

Should I go? Please vote in the poll on the right of this post, or comment below