What it should be.
On the shuttle to work this morning, adrift in a sea of North Face jackets and jeans and sneakers, I held onto my thermal mug of tea and marveled at how we never ever get very far from high school. The seats may be softer, but we bounce around just the same. I have read too much about what content on the web should be. I admit to being very tired of this “should be” talk, external or internal. I would take a side, but taking a side means there are sides to take. We can argue about who is doing it better, whose content is more important, but how does that work, exactly? Are journal entries less important than reviews of iPhone apps? Who decides this, and why? My first taiko class taught me something I forgot: be still, eyes open, and embrace the lack...
Read Morewhat to say
I had this idea during dinner that I would get out my laptop and write something about the Big News, but I don’t know exactly what to say. Forgive my befuddled rambling. For those of you who haven’t yet heard, I was one of the 15,000 City and County of San Francisco employees to receive a pink slip on Friday. Only I was on vacation and, in an effort to unplug, had not checked work email or RSS feeds all week. We returned home late Friday night, and my pink slip arrived in the mail on Saturday. To say that I was shocked in that moment … well, I was shocked, but I was also a mess of other emotions. I opened the envelope, expecting a direct deposit slip, and received something very different. (It wasn’t pink at all, if you’re...
Read Morestories not to tell
The best stories in my life right now are the ones I cannot tell. Working at the library provides me with many things. A steady paycheck is one, and let’s hope I am not jinxing anything by stating that, as the city budget right now is highly contested territory. Another thing the library provides me with is a plethora of life lessons. Sometimes these life lessons are neatly packaged within a patron interaction or two, and sometimes they are spread out over a series of days, weeks, or months. I met someone last week who changed my life, and I can’t even tell you any of the specifics. To say I am frustrated by this boundary is an understatement, but I love my job more than I love writing here, so this is the decision I make. What I can tell you is that...
Read Morephotos I did not take
Last night the moon slipped slate-blue behind silver clouds, and although I could see it from the overstuffed leather recliner I did not fumble for a camera. I watched it, and it looked full, though my astigmatism makes me a poor judge of such things. Past midnight, sometime over the weekend, we were sitting with snacks, twin bowls of cereal, savoring the wee hours with no early alarm the next morning. Just outside our bedroom, my cat walked past his cat very, very slowly, and then carefully put her paw out to touch the very tip of his cat’s tail. We lost it; my mouth happened to be full of cereal. I wanted to take a photo of the moment I started thinking of my cat and his cat as our cats, but instead I cleaned the cereal off my face. Someone in the...
Read Moreon real jobs
Right before closing yesterday, I helped a patron and the series of answers we found had led to a pretty interesting discussion on race and socio-economics in San Francisco. I mentioned that this topic was particularly interesting to me because my father is a sociology professor, but I didn’t think that the patron even heard me because he was pretty far deep into his own rant. A few minutes later, he suddenly busts out with, “So why didn’t you decide to get a real job like your father? Too hard?” It was so blatant that I thought it was a joke, so I laughed. My laughing slowly tapered off as I realized that he was completely serious. We stared at each other for a few moments, because I truly had no idea what to say that wouldn’t cost...
Read Moregrateful for poetry
Exultant, drunk with the little victories: remembering to bring a homemade muffin only slightly less glorious than right out of the oven, flashing my usually-cloistered bus pass to prove my city citizenship, consolidating paper trails into one gleaming paper superhighway. The hangover is quick, severe. Blurry comes into focus with a “fuck you bitch” and I am at work. Because this is how it is in the building of books and lost people. We who work here are the serfs, and all the jesters are kings. — Halsted M. Bernard (This entry is part of one month of gratitude.)
Read Morebits of tid
People who dispense with niceties used to catch me off-guard. Before my current job, I expected a minimal exchange of greetings before a request for help. I wonder if, as a result, I have done away with my own greeting patter when I am out in the world. It does seem a bit superfluous at times, especially when we are all so furiously busy, scuttling between inputs like crazed crabs. Because of this intensified pace, I become more conscious of how to phrase answers to questions without being condescending or curt. A dyslexic patron today obviously felt quite embarrassed for mixing up the microfilm for 1906 and 1960, and I wonder if my bland “no problem” response was sufficient, or made her feel lessened. I can’t imagine being dyslexic; so much...
Read Morein which I confide in you that my workweek has sucked
I felt pretty confident that, bolstered by the chill-out of the three-day weekend, I could handle whatever came next. After all, the MSG and I had spent most of the weekend sequestered inside his house, making and eating marvelous food, chatting, seeing movies, snuggling, and playing “Star Wars: Galaxies” — on which I am now totally hooked, thanks to him. I have a female wookiee character who breakdances and is training to be a martial artist. How cool is that? I love that Jedi are so rare in the game. The MSG actually saw one wielding a light saber a few weeks ago and told me all about it and I just started bouncing in excitement. Wanna see! And so, Monday evening, after a lovely meal of take-out from Eliza’s, the MSG and I sat...
Read MoreNestcam
The cam was last on Friday, May 4.
Hello What
I am Halsted, a/k/a cygnoir, and I do stuff with words.
My favourite things to do with words are keeping this diary, writing stories, and organising information.
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Reading
Listening
- 39 - Explicit Version
Tenacious D
5 days, 12 hours and 29 minutes ago - To Be The Best
Tenacious D
5 days, 12 hours and 30 minutes ago - They Fucked Our Asses - Explicit Version
Tenacious D
5 days, 12 hours and 31 minutes ago
Plugging
