Sphincterhood

Toady

2010-11-04T21:09:00.002-05:00

Today was a toady day. Blah.
(I think toads are cool. This is not a reflection on toads.)

Nerd Joy!

2010-11-03T20:32:00.002-05:00

My mom got great health news today. This makes everything look better. So, pardon my nerdly enthusiasm about the following:

Library Displays! They're not just for knitters anymore! I'm always looking for ideas to boost the circulation of materials. When it comes to displays, I'll try nearly anything. Some (ok many) of my ideas belong in the Super Colossal Flop category. For example? Genocide--man in his darkest hour. Not so many takers for this one. Let's just say I was my own best customer. C'mon, it's an important topic, people. Don't you want to curl up in bed and read about humanity at its worst? Yeah, apparently nobody else does, either.

Most recently, I can add book bundles to the flop list. Bundles are a few books banded together with a common theme or time period or even cover. You give the bundle a witty name. For example, "Titles likely to set Jane Austen spinning in her grave." (Guess which titles those were...) "Girls Gone Plucky" or "Dysfunctional Family Palooza." Well, I thought they were witty names. You didn't? Take a number. And I'm back to the drawing board.

So, I was searching the Web today for display inspiration when I hit on this site. I bow before the displaying prowess of these individuals. Who could snub displays like this? Who would dare? AND, do magical elves build the components in a secret workshop for them? If so, can I please have some elves?

A Recent Read

2010-11-02T16:52:00.003-05:00

Beyond the Sky and the Earth: a journey into Bhutan by Jamie Zeppa

I read this book because I know lots of Bhutanese people. But they consider themselves Nepalese. It’s a long story. And this book helped me get it. And this was good. What I didn’t know ahead of time was that this book is a freakin’ riot.

The gist: A woman decides out of the blue to forgo pursuing her doctoral degree for a teaching position in rural Bhutan. She has no teaching experience, has never traveled, and her family is not supportive of this choice. Upon arrival, she finds herself reliant on her 8 year old students. The weather kicks her butt. Rats win turf wars at night, and she is afraid of her stove. The writing is beautiful and hilarious and alive.

I think you should read it. I’m serious.

Throwing the Books at You

2010-11-01T16:16:00.003-05:00

I’ve decided to try to do the post everyday for a month deal known as National Blog Post Month (NaBloPoMo.) Today I’m under the weather but you can’t kick things off by shirking, can you? Plus, I’ve spent some time recently in Boston medical facilities with my mom. I’m happy to say that she is doing as well as can be now, but it’s made for a long stretch. It’s made me grumpy, cranky, and non communicative. So, allow me to discuss one of my favorite “happy place” subjects—books.

I’ve been on a fiction kick, which is unusual for me. I finally caved in to pressure and read Stieg Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. It was fast reading, but I don’t feel compelled to read the next two. I’m sorry, I just don’t.

I also finally read Day after Night by Anita Diamant. I had seen her do a reading from this book and she had signed my copy. It had sat untouched on my shelf ever since. It was also quick reading. No, I’ve never read The Red Tent. Yes, I understand that someday I must—a zillion people have told me so.

Listening! I’ve spent lots of time in the car lately, so I’ve been listening to the audio version of The Red Queen by Philippa Gregory. I like historical fiction, but I haven’t had good luck with her stuff in the past. Her style seemed too dramatic and over the top, and the fact that the girls in the intrigues were so young (though, historically I know they really were) sicked me out. But the reader’s voice has had me enthralled from the first word, and everything seems to fit perfectly.
Now I’ve gone back to my non-fiction ways, though. Currently reading: Up Tunket Road: the education of a modern homesteader by Philip Ackerman-Leist.

Anybody read anything great lately?

Anna Karenina Doesn't Suck!

2010-08-03T20:51:00.002-05:00

I am reading Anna Karenina, and it does NOT suck. I love it! I know that three quarters of the world’s population is saying “Did you think they were making that Great Literature bit up?” But, in case you are part of that other quarter of the world that remains doubtful…this is a great book. It’s not some high falutin museum piece. It’s full of emotion. Yes, it’s nearly 800 pages. But I’ve already torn through over 200 in just a few days—and I tend to read slowly.

I’ve had difficulty reading other Russian authors. I get confused by the characters’ names and nicknames. Wait—is that the same guy by a different name, or is she talking to a totally different guy now? I am not having any of that trouble here, in spite of the fact that two of the main dudes are both called Alexey. Luckily, they seem to use middle or last names a lot.

This is one of those books that I can now cross off my life’s To Read list.* (after another nearly 600 pages, of course.) And it is so painless, I can’t believe it. It’s almost like when you set out to carry a heavy box, and then it ends up being light. Like a little gift from the world.

*In truth, my life’s To Read list is quite brief. It’s not like the Reading Police would arrest me if I never read this book. And I’m not one to toil through a bad book. But if I just plain skipped it without trying, it would bug me.

Prisoners of Conscience?

2010-06-15T23:18:00.006-05:00

So, perhaps you recall my telling you about the high number of people who seem to want to discuss with me the time they spent in our correctional facilities? Well, today I burst onto the national prison circuit.

Allow me to explain. It’s that time of year again in New Hampshire. It’s Bike Week, when motorcyclists come from across the country and descend upon the tiny Granite State and all through the day and night there’s the steady hum of motorcycles en masse. Some of these biker folks make their way into the library. In truth, they are usually lovely people who are library users back home. A couple came in today looking for some info. I was able to help them out, and they thanked me kindly. In fact, they thanked me so kindly, that they gifted me a little something of theirs. It had a sticker on it identifying its origins. It came from a prison ministry. I don’t feel I should tell you the name of the ministry, and even if I could you would accuse me of making it up.

I’m inclined, based on my interactions and observations, to form the following conflicting hypotheses:

These people were ex-cons turned ministers
These people were the most grizzled and tattooed ministers ever NOT incarcerated.
These people were ex-cons who received this token while in prison, and happily bestowed it on me.

Regardless of what the true scenario is, they were model patrons. I guess I should be glad they didn’t fill me in—I’m just not used to being shut out of the details when it comes to prison. Ride on, potential ex-cons!

Come and Gone

2010-05-20T22:27:00.003-05:00

When I was a kid ( I was born in 1971) lilacs didn't bloom until Memorial Day. They are already passing now. What's going on?

Zesty Owls

2010-03-23T22:58:00.004-05:00

This post was inspired by blog Comeback Kid Mr. Toast.

Recently, I got a hold of the book Fail Nation by the Failblog.org Community. I wanted to be above laughing my ass off at it, but I simply wasn't. In fact, I found myself reminiscing about this:

Once, I was driving past a Taco Bell near my home. Apparently, a dish known as the Zesty Bowl was the favored menu item at that time. There were some banners I saw in the window about it. The sign in front of the restaurant read "Stop in and Try our Zesty Owls!"

Maybe it was the enthusiasm of the sign that got me. Maybe it was that I could see some distracted motorist scolding his kid for asking to try some Zesty Owls. Whatever the reason it thrilled me so, it has stayed with me all this while. And now there is an entire book dedicated to just this sort of thing. I'll never get any work done now.

Holiday Spirits

2009-12-29T18:37:00.005-05:00

I know it's been a while, but I just had to share this heartwarming tale with you all. This is sure to make all those wearing the uniform of our great nation proud. I helped a woman at the library find some forms. She stated that she needed the forms to help document her grandfather's military service. She seemed eager to explain this to me. "Aw," I thought, "I'm helping a veteran and his family." And then I felt good. Then she proceeded to tell me that Grandpa was dead. Oh, no! Poor Grandpa! They still needed the documents for certain benefits, though...Oh, um, ok. I'm mildly confused, but by librarian code we must NEVER ask. But, she enlightened me anyway.

These forms were being used to try to join the local VFW, where, she tells me "They serve cheap drinks and have tons of parties." I'm pretty sure that sound I hear is Grandpa turning in his grave. But then again, maybe having some cold ones on the cheap was a family tradition. Who knows?

A Toast to the Toasts!

2009-10-03T09:17:00.002-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, I had my first in-person blog friend meeting. Mr. Toast of Wind in the Wire was passing through town with his lovely bride, and we agreed to meet. I was worried that I would say or do something weird that would send them fleeing away in the Toastmobile, but they were so wonderful and gracious, they didn't even stare. And even though Mrs Toast is clearly a Big Library Cheese, she at no time made me feel like the Lowly Cheese that I comparatively am. Mr. Toast is as charming and funny in person as he is in the blogosphere.

The Toasts have their own amazing story to tell, and I wouldn't dream of stealing it. I hope that when he's ready, Mr Toast will bring you up to speed. But suffice it to say, the Traveling Toasts inspire me, enlighten me, and also make me giggle. I also hope that if I do ever find somebody to walk through this life with again, I will have forged the kind of bond so evident between these two. Party on, Toasts! Thanks for lunch, and thanks for a glimpse of "the good life. "

Bad Sphincter

2009-09-06T07:34:00.002-05:00

Have any of you ever seen the movie Bad Santa with Billy Bob Thornton? If you have, you may recall the line where he says, “I beat up some kids today. But it was for a purpose. It made me feel good about myself..." We, the viewers know those damn bully kids had it coming. But the man hearing it has no idea, and suggests therapy. (It's at the end of the trailer on the link posted above. Naturally, you have to wait through some stupid ad first.) So, keep that in mind when I tell you this.

I bitched out a man in the hospital family OR waiting room whose wife was having a kidney removed. I feel great about it. Needless to say, nobody is waiting in the OR waiting area for fun. We are all waiting there so that doctors and nurses will know exactly where to find us to update us about our loved ones. I think it's nice that the hospital provides a fairly comfortable little waiting area. In fact, this one dude felt so comfy there, he had commandeered it as his home office. He had his two laptops and various files spread out on the table before him, parked directly under the phone where communications come in from hospital staff summoning you to recovery rooms, etc. He also had a Bluetooth in his ear on which he talked loudly and incessantly to clients, his son, and his office staff about "billable hours" "open this file, NO! THAT one!" and deadlines and recreational plans for later that day. These were not pressing matters. I know because it was impossible not to hear this every word this frickin' blowhard said and still be in range of the phone. This went on for an hour.

Finally, I had had it. I marched up to this guy and told him I thought what he was doing was incredibly rude and disrespectful to the other people waiting. Now, it's not like I expected him to say "Gee, you're right. I'm a douche bag" or anything, but when he informed me that my problem was that I was the type that only liked to hear myself talk, I thought I was in The Twilight Zone. In my head I had had some choice words for this guy, but I had been silent throughout his performance until now.

Then he informed me about his wife's kidney operation and that this was how HE chose to deal with the stress, and that I wasn’t the only person having a difficult time. It wasn’t, for my information, all about me. I told him maybe he should take the day off or take it someplace else. He sarcastically thanked me for putting MY stress on HIM and gathered his many items of self importance and moved his operations down the hall glaring at me all the way. Blessedly, I didn't have much longer to wait, and the news I got was positive. I passed by this dude on my way to the recovery area and he was making some kind of sarcastic remark to me that I blew off. For the time being, all was well, and Blowhard Guy was a mere speck on my radar screen. I, Sphincter of New Hampshire, bitched out a man whose wife was actively having a kidney removed. And I feel great about it.

Too Much Information @ My Library

2009-09-02T20:26:00.003-05:00

Today I signed for some UPS packages at work. I was delighted that it was my favorite UPS guy, and not Jerky Guy. (Jerky Guy gripes about having to bring huge boxes of books up the elevator to the second floor instead of leaving them all at the main desk. Sorry, J.G., but you are a delivery guy, this is a library, and you are delivering to a building full of small women. You've got a dolly--Move it!) So, I signed my name as illegibly as always, exchanged pleasantries with Good Guy and off he went.

Immediately afterward, I realized I felt weird and looked down. My shirt was wide open. My own private wardrobe malfunction! My business was visible. Yes, I was wearing a bra. Yes, thank Jeebus it was clean. But there it was. And Good Guy had not said one damn word or let on in any way. Though I'm not sure what exactly he could have said, in his defense. I guess we're not well acquainted enough for "Holy hooters!" or even the more mellow "Rack's showin'. " Our next encounter is bound to be an awkward one.

La Femme Sphincter

2009-08-11T21:35:00.004-05:00

Lately, I've been prowling the night. No, I haven't been out augmenting my income, wiseguys. I've been stealthy. Lurking. I've been employing all those surveillance tactics so suavely demonstrated on La Femme Nikita (which, as I've mentioned before, kicks ass on Alias) I've been watching unsuspecting people go about their business as if it were just any evening. Outside lights switching off, interior lights moving about the home. So quiet, so peaceful--so full of Sphincter. Fools! Little do they know what awaits them on their lawns in the morning! The flamingos have come for them at last...

The Sphincter of God

2009-08-02T10:47:00.006-05:00

Sometimes, fate is forced to correct me in a manner in which it KNOWS I will understand. I attended a library event yesterday morning. Many baked goods remained afterwards, and they were pressed upon me. I hesitated, thinking that I really shouldn't take them. I certainly didn't need them. And the person I was going to visit didn't need them (being a cardiac patient.) But, I wrapped a plate--oh, the arm twisting it took to take those sweets!--and was headed through the parking lot, carrying the plate waiter style. I was nearly to the car when a plop of bird poop landed squarely atop the heap of goodies. I stop short, and looked about. No sign of the culprit anywhere. It was as though some mysterious and divine bowel had released its disapproval on me. I disposed of the soiled treats promptly and continued on my journey, confident that great forces were at work in the world.

Gimme a (Prison) Break

2009-07-28T16:35:00.004-05:00

Working as a public servant, people tend to share all sorts of odd personal information with you. I'm not sure why, but maybe they figure their taxes pay your salary, so they own part of your ear. But one of the strangest things people tell me about at the library is that they've done prison time. Not one or two isolated cases, either. It seems like every mofo who has ever done time wants to somehow slip this into conversation. And they do it like it's the most normal thing in the world. It's almost like, "I hate it when I have to go to prison, don't you?" Just like you were commiserating about a patch of lousy weather or something.

I'm unsure about the proper response to these revelations. Clearly, the only person feeling at all awkward about it is me. I want to say "I don't GO to prison dude! But if i DID ever go, I'd bet I'd keep it under my hat and not tell some librarian about it!" Or "Perhaps you can see that I admire a person who has been in the slammer." What is the deal with this? If people have done their time they are entitled to get on with their lives. But, for the love of Dog, why are they telling me this stuff?

Hi. You look familiar.

2009-07-27T19:43:00.003-05:00

Long time, huh? I'll explain later. Actually, I won't. But I do have some stories for you. But right now I have almost no light to see the keyboard. So, I'll try to come back and tell you one tomorrow when it's light out again.

Oh, and I hope you didn't think I spent all that time reading Mein Kampf. I didn't. Just to be clear about that part.

First, I am NOT a Skinhead

2009-03-02T12:58:00.002-05:00

Got that? NOT. A. SKINHEAD. I just wanted to state that up front. Because, I've decided to try to read Mein Kampf. I've been hearing much lately about the resurgence of hate groups. I've been thinking about this a lot. I'm trying to find out why this is happening. Plus, at the library, I've been ordering some new reference works on World War II. Between those two things, it has occurred to me, that I have never read Hitler's dark vision. So, I've decided to check it out. I have to say that when I was taking if off the shelf I felt 1) sheepish that somebody might see me with it and 2) disappointed that it was so thick. Seems like many of the neo nazis I've seen couldn't read a chapter book, so I was surprised that it wasn't smaller. Are there Spark Notes for hate filled tirades?

A Sphincter in Need

2009-02-25T23:00:00.002-05:00

I am a copy-catter and thief. I stole this meme from Rozanne. I avoid memes, but I had to know what this one turned up for me. You plug your name into Google, followed by "needs." So, for me, the search was "Sphincter needs." Yes, I used Sphincter.

Sphincter needs:

Sphincter needs improvement

Sphincter needs to be separately repaired

Sphincter needs a simple in-and-out catheterization

A hypertensive Sphincter needs to be interpreted with caution

Sphincter needs to be massaged

I think this is all a sound assessment, though preferably I would skip the catheterization bit. Also, should I become hypertensive, I hope others do interpret me with caution.

If you decide to try it, I hope you'll share with me what you discover. Will you need a toupee? Orange juice? Or merely a psychic reading?

Are You There, Blog? It's Me, Sphincter.

2009-02-22T10:17:00.004-05:00

Well, it’s been so long that I’m not sure what to say. Other than in the Sphincterhood there’s been some good, there’s been some bad, and there’s been enough bizarre that if I told you about it you’d accuse me of trying to get on Jerry Springer's show. I’ve thought about you all a lot and have been sorry that I haven’t kept up with you more. I hope to remedy that in the near future.

One new disturbing Sphincteric trend is that I have been reading a lot of disaster books. I mean, I’ve gone looking for them specifically. I don’t recommend that you try this at home, unless you enjoy freaking yourself out. I can’t seem to stop myself, however, and have now resigned myself to it. My latest is The Circus Fire by Stewart O’Nan. It is not a happy story. Burned children, toasted grannies, but luckily, all animals escaped that one. I may soon have an encyclopedic knowledge of disasters. Now there’s a feather for my cap. I can feel your jealousy from here.

Busy and Nothing to Show for It

2008-11-30T19:16:00.003-05:00

On this last day of NaBloPoMo (or in my case, NaBloPoFauxMo or something) many thanks to everybody who stopped by Sphincterhood. This was a great way to help me get back in the swing of blogging.

I was busy today, but you'd never know it. I started my day talking to the dad of one of my oldest friends. After we caught up a little, I talked to my friend who was in NH for a holiday break. (This is Rhinoboy, for those of you keeping track at home. As you may or may not recall, I do actually call him this. It's not a name I made up for the blog.) We haven't spoken in ages. And emailing is not the same. I was so happy to find out that he is happy. His work is good, his fam is well, and soon there will be a Mrs. Rhinoboy. And though I have yet to meet her, based solely on his state of being, I am already a fan of hers. Our talk left me with that rare, wonderful feeling that occurs when good stuff happens to good people.

After doing some minor domestic duties, I took a nap with the cats. I thought about baking. I even fired up the oven. But then, I didn't. I turned that bad boy right off again. And read instead. I talked to my mom. I watched the news, local AND national.

This evening I called another of my wonderful friends, Connor (one of my friend newbies, since I've only known her since '95.) Her household was noisy with the sounds of her kids, but I could tell that she was happy too. Repeat above sentiments about good things and good people.

And now I'm here, doing my last post for November, mindful of the time I have before The Amazing Race begins. It's a wonder that I managed to fit it all in.

Forgive My Ignorance

2008-11-29T18:32:00.003-05:00

for-give
/fərˈgɪv/ verb

–verb (used with object)
to grant pardon for or remission of (an offense, debt, etc.); absolve.

to give up all claim on account of; remit (a debt, obligation, etc.).

to grant pardon to (a person).

to cease to feel resentment against: to forgive one's enemies.

to cancel an indebtedness or liability of: to forgive the interest owed on a loan.

verb (used without object)
to pardon an offense or an offender.

forgive. (n.d.). Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Retrieved November 29, 2008, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/forgive

I don’t understand how forgiveness works. I mean, I get how you can agree to let something go. But, that doesn’t mean that whatever occurred was OK. It just means you will try to get by it, right? But, does it also mean that when you think back on whatever occurred that it shouldn’t still burn your ass? Because if it didn’t burn your ass, that sort of implies that it (whatever action) was somehow OK or justified. Which it probably wasn’t. Which is why it upset you in the first place. But if it does still burn your ass, then you haven’t REALLY let it go, have you?
OR
Not feeling resentment or upset about something that hurt you would imply a certain neutrality to the situation, an ability to disconnect from the events. Which if you were truly disconnected, likely would not have resulted in your state of offense. So, you wise folk of the blogosphere, what’s the deal? How does forgiveness work? I can't seem to nail it down here.

Introducing...

2008-11-28T21:14:00.002-05:00

Matilda! A shy, tiny gray and white girl with a little black spot on her nose. She's been pretty skittish up until last week. Suddenly, she's gotten brave and is starting to make herself at home around here. Her interests seem to include:

Hiding in the closet
Admiring herself in the mirror
Squeezing into small spaces
Hissing at Buckwheat

Thankful

2008-11-27T09:54:00.002-05:00

Happy Thanksgiving to all in the blogosphere. I'm about to take my pies and head out to Mom's. I've heard many folks in the media talk about how this year people may not feel as thankful, due to the economy and all. I believe this is crap. I think this year it's become clearer to people just what is of value in their lives. Much of the superficial stuff has been stripped away for us.

I, for one, feel like I've had a crap year. Which makes it all the more obvious why I feel thankful. I am thankful for family and friends, who are there for me through thick and thin. I'm thankful for the life I had and for the one I have now. I'm thankful that I feel hopeful about the future, my own future and that of the country. And I'm thankful for you guys who read this blog, who for some reason give enough of a hoot to check in and see what's up with me. I hope you all have a wonderful day.

(It looks like things are finally coming under control in Mumbai. And I'm thankful for that, too.)

Chaos

2008-11-26T19:54:00.001-05:00

I would feel like an ass posting anything insignificant right now. What the fuck's going on in Mumbai?

Phoning it In

2008-11-25T21:52:00.000-05:00

Have you ever asked to use the phone at a store or a public place? Like the actual phone for the establishment, the official one? I haven’t. And I would never dream of doing it. And yet, I am amazed at how often people from all walks of life ask to use the library’s phone. In this time of the cell phone, I would have thought that this was no longer necessary. But reasons given range from “My cell phone died” to “I don’t have any minutes left” or even “I don’t want to use my minutes.” People ask to use our phone so frequently that we had to post a sign stating that the phone was for the library’s use only. And people STILL ask. I’m not talking about emergencies, here. That’s different. People want to use our phone to do all kinds of crazy shit. And folks often call for people using the library. What’s with that? My fave was the time a woman wanted me to find her sister and tell her to “get her ass over there” if she wanted lunch. Dude, we are conducting business here! This is a typical scenario:

Person: “Can I use the phone? It’s important.”
Sphincter: “There’s only this one phone for all 3 lines. We have to keep it just for library use. Sorry.”
Person: “That’s OK. It’ll be really quick. I’m out of minutes on my cell.”
Sphincter: “Sorry. But there’s a pay phone across the way you can use.”
Person (glaring as though you have obstructed his or her civil rights): “Forget it. I’m not walking all the way over there just to make a phone call.”

PEOPLE! Why are you asking to use the library’s phone to conduct your personal beeswax? Stop that! You must find an alternative. I cannot let you phone the IRS from this desk no matter how pissed off you are. You cannot use our phone to arrange the phone service for your home. You may not call customer service at Best Buy from the circulation desk. Do I really need to tell you this? Do I? Gah!

Funniest Damn Thing!

2008-11-24T22:59:00.003-05:00

I actually did organize that second bedroom. OK, so it has a ways to go before it constitutes a bedroom, but shelves are installed and there's a discernible path. I see floor! It needs vacuuming, but I see it. At this rate, I'll be all settled in at about the time when the lease is up.

Procrastination

2008-11-23T10:42:00.000-05:00

Ok, today’s the day. I’m finally going to organize my second bedroom. I am. I’m serious. I’ve been saying I was going to do it since I moved in (at the end of August.) And today’s the day. I mean it. Right after this post. And after I check the weather. And do the dishes. But after that, it’s my first priority. Do you believe me yet? Me neither.

Party Animal

2008-11-22T20:44:00.000-05:00

So. The party. The worst part was the bus trip over. Yes, they chartered a bus to run people from the parking area to the house. The first bus was for the people working the party, like me. It was a school bus and it was crammed full of people excitedly talking and laughing. Because it was cold and there were so many people, the windows fogged up. This place is really out in the woods, so it was a long windy way to the spot. You know that scene in Willy Wonka when they are on the boat and all those creepy images flash by? I kind of felt like that. Because all I could see was random, disconnected things flash by out the front of the bus. In spite of the pervasive party atmosphere, I found it eerie.

The house itself was quite grand. Any place that sports a Great Room is, I suppose. Even though it wasn’t garish, everything was new and well coordinated and perfect and straight out of a magazine. And not my cup of tea. Luckily, since I’d never be able to afford it anyway.

I was stationed near a wine table, and each time I heard a new cork pop my mouth craved that luscious goodness. But alas, none for me. But I consoled myself knowing that I would soon be home and having a glass (or 3) of my own. Mostly I just kept the folks waiting for booze company. I gave directions. I marveled at the natural resources the place must consume. I also eavesdropped. Many conversations centered on money. I don’t think I’ve ever gone to a party and talked about money. But people who didn’t seem to know one another previously yakked all about it. In detail. Am I doing it wrong? I was always taught that it is impolite to talk about money in social settings. But what do I know? I was dumb enough to get drafted into working at the dang party in the first place.

Put a Fork in Me

2008-11-21T22:56:00.003-05:00

I'm done. The party's over. It wasn't as bad as I thought. My face hurts from sporting a perma-smile. No booties. So many Volvos. I stashed a bottle of champagne in the fridge for when I was through. I'm about to attack it. 'Night, all.

Forward, March!

2008-11-20T20:20:00.002-05:00

Looks like there's no getting out of tomorrow evening's extravaganza. I've resigned myself to it now. I just returned from an exhibit reception, and now must make certain that my cocktail attire will pass muster. Too much dressing up and being polite for one week, I tell ya. I will fill you all in on the gory details with Friday PM's update.

Ordinary Disclosures

2008-11-19T23:33:00.002-05:00

This post has to be quick or I'll miss the deadline for the day!

I've been thinking about how ordinary people I see each day have the ability to shock the hell out of me. For example, a regular library patron who I would have described as well educated and like minded to me revealed to me that he thinks global warming is a bunch of crap. I happen to know that he watches a lot of PBS. We've discussed programs. I'm stunned.

Another "normal" patron stopped by the main desk to tell me about the time he saw a UFO. He does NOT seem like the UFO seeing type. And has never been the type to volunteer any info about himself at all. Has this secret been burning inside him for years and he had to get it out at that moment or die? Or was I simply The Chosen One, in accordance with some alien prophecy?It makes me wonder about all the people passing by. What are they all thinking? What would prompt them to tell a librarian about it?

Reprieve!

2008-11-18T20:03:00.002-05:00

I may be out of this "party" obligation on a technicality. Geez, that would be too bad. Did I mention that I intend to practice my swift and immediate use of the word "NO!" to avoid this type of entanglement again?

Now for something completely different...You know those squiggly characters you have to type to prove that you're not spam? You know, like when you're signing up for or into something online? Am I the only one that tries to make words out of those? And it makes me so happy when they do make real words. Even if they only make the word phonetically, I still count it. The one I just had was "dinos."

I'm Sphincter, and I'll be Your Lackey for the Evening

2008-11-17T21:11:00.002-05:00

Y’all, have I been roped into a good one. One of our community’s grand dames has invited me to a cocktail party. I’m not big on parties, but she has been trying to get me involved in something of hers for months and I have so far declined. This seemed like a good way to appease her. It is a fundraiser for charity, she assured me, one that benefits women. Well, drinking for a cause doesn’t sound so bad, I thought. I agreed to attend. What she neglected to tell me is that I’ll be WORKING –wait—I mean, uh, volunteering--at this cocktail party.

The affair is held on an estate and I’ll be assigned a post. My own shoes may mar the grandness of it all, so naturally I’ll be required to wear booties. And cocktail attire. In keeping with the holiday atmosphere. And by the way, there’s a meeting tomorrow night I’ll need to attend to ensure that I don’t screw up. Did I mention that this particular lady about town is also involved in governing my livelihood? Effity effing effshit, how do I get myself into these things? I thought I was getting champagne and instead I’m getting hospital booties. Dammit.

Introducing...

2008-11-16T19:50:00.003-05:00

Buckwheat! One of two cats I recently adopted from the shelter. (I'll introduce you to Matilda once she's a bit less camera shy.)

So far as I can tell, his major interests are:

Eating anything on the floor
Sneak attacks from under the bed
Staring at the phone

Money Money Money

2008-11-15T12:36:00.002-05:00

Saying "money" over and over again makes it sound odd. Like spoon, or sneeze. Or any word, I suppose.

I spent my Saturday morning creating a new financial plan. I haven't really managed my own money in over a decade. The Former Hub handled the finances during our married life. Imagine my surprise to discover that I CAN DO IT! I AM DOING IT! Nothing's exploded, the world hasn't ended, bills are paid on time and I feel great about it. There's a chance that I may not be a Money Dumbass after all. I'm quite relieved about this.

I well remember the time (Pre Hub) when I was financially insecure. I do not ever want to return to that status. So, I guess this has been a strong motivator to get educated and take the reins. So far, so good. Who knew? Phew!

Obama is a Sin

2008-11-14T19:03:00.004-05:00

I thought this was a joke when I first read the headline. But, to my distress, it's real. A priest in South Carolina has informed his parishioners that they are unable to receive communion if they voted for Obama.

Priest: Obama Voters Must Do Penance

This makes me feel sick. Absolutely sick.

Childhood Expressions

2008-11-13T22:05:00.004-05:00

I’ve been listening to the stuff that teens say to one another. I’d be lying if I said I could translate all of it. A few things have struck me. It seems like many expressions are kinder and gentler and definitely more PC than the ones that were the fashion of my day. Now there are BFFs and What-Evs. But in my time there was (and please do remember that this must be said with a New England accent) “Yir a mentah retahd!” Translation: “You are a mental retard!” I know! It makes me cringe, too.

Another big one was “Blow it out yah shohts!” which of course meant that you wished that person to blow something unspecified out of his or her shorts. It was roughly the equivalent of “Sit on it.” from Happy Days. My brother once got into trouble at school after advising a teacher to blow it out her shorts.

The most puzzling expression of all was simply “Git!” You’d have to say it like you were about to chew your cud to get the proper sound of it. I have no idea why, but for some reason this was huge. And it could mean anything from “No way!” to “Fuck off.” It was written on desks, scrawled on notes, and used in class by frequent flyers to the principal’s office.

Another common presence on desks, lockers and bathroom stalls was “FA-Q!” Imagine my surprise to discover that these same letters can also equal Frequently Asked Questions.

So, was this strictly a regional thing? Do any of you have childhood expressions that were equally as offensive or nonsensical?

Cinderella Exists! I Saw Her!

2008-11-12T22:16:00.005-05:00

Never fear! I did not use WD40 on my head. I used a combo of avocado oil, safflower oil, and olive oil. I don’t know if it was one of these in particular that did the trick, or if it was just the perfect storm of oils that made it work. The good news is that I got a comb through my hair, and the only whole white hairs left in there were (sadly) there before The Great Beanie Incident of ‘08.

Have you ever seen The Royal Tenenbaums? I witnessed an exchange tonight that seemed like something from that movie. You know how Gwyneth Paltrow’s character keeps getting excluded from the family because she’s adopted? Well, get this. I was standing in line at the drug store. A woman standing at the counter greets another woman who is passing with four kids in tow. Three are probably under ten, the fourth is a young teen.

Counter Woman (warmly): "Hi! How are you? Are these your kids?"
Passing Woman: “Well, these three are!” Gestures proudly at the little ones. “This is my step-daughter.” Gestures dismissively. The poor kid smiles and waves weakly to CW.

CW looks uncomfortable and lets it drop. PW gets in line behind me and has trouble managing her ill-behaved "real" children. She attempts to push them off on the older kid. I couldn’t have been happier to see that the little brats were having none of it.

What was with PW, anyway? Is it just me, or was that an awful thing to say?

The Painted Beanie

2008-11-11T21:55:00.001-05:00

I painted my mom’s bathroom ceiling today. Her bathroom is tiny. And even though I brought an extender pole to use for the roller, I found that the room wasn’t big enough to accommodate it. So, I was forced to go the stepladder route. Which worked okay, except that the top step was a little too high and the middle step didn’t quite make it to where I needed to go. I was left sort of weight shifting between the two. At one point I stretched up to cut in an edge and bumped my head on the painted portion of the ceiling, stamping a perfect white beanie onto my dark hair.

Now, all the instructions tell you to wear a painter’s cap. But I have a lot of hair. I am one of the hair havingest people I know. My hair is thick and unruly, and trying to put anything but a floppy straw hat over it never pans out. So I skipped that part. And now I have a paint beanie.

I tried to wash it out with shampoo. I tried about a zillion times. But the beanie would not yield. I got some avocado oil involved, recalling how well oils clean the sink after soaping. I’m now crowned with an oily paint beanie. Any suggestions, anyone? I’m sure I’ll be a hit at work tomorrow.

Screw Twilight

2008-11-10T21:42:00.002-05:00

I want to see THIS one.

Let the Right One In

(Don't get me wrong. I'm a Stephenie Meyer reader. But I don't think I want to see the film.)

Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On

2008-11-09T18:45:00.004-05:00

I did it! I made the butter. It IS quite good. And very fresh tasting and creamy. You may be thinking “Um, duh… You just made it. Of course it tastes fresh.” But I didn’t ever realize butter would taste much different than one would buy at the store. It was a LOT of shaking. I used an old Ball canning jar with a metal lid. One of the tall ones. So, while I was shaking and shaking, I put on Yeti. Hey, I had a lot of time to kill. Don't judge me.

In high school my friends and I used to go in search of the lamest movies we could find. Naturally, there were lots of contenders in the horror category. Yeti would have been a gem to us. At one point, the Yeti tore off a dude’s leg and proceeded to beat him with it. I mentioned in the previous post that this Yeti strongly resembled The Bumble from Rudolph, The Red Nosed Reindeer, right? That was disturbing. But at least I got some butter and 2 blog posts out of it.

When Bumbles Go Bad

2008-11-08T22:43:00.006-05:00

I just watched Yeti on Sci-Fi. I wrote a post about it and just accidentally deleted it. Wah. I won't spend any more time recounting the riveting details. Suffice it to say that the Yeti looked a lot like The Bumble.

Like Buttah

2008-11-07T18:54:00.002-05:00

I'm going to make butter this weekend. Why? Because I can. Why don't I just BUY some damn butter? Because I want to make it, that's why. I found this tutorial that uses small words and many pictures. I think I can actually handle it. I'll let you know if it was worth it or not.

See for yourself here.

A Poser with True Grit

2008-11-06T23:14:00.002-05:00

I’ve decided to pretend that I’m doing NaBloPoMo. I’m not really allowed to do it, of course, because I started 4 days too late. But I’ve done it the past 2 years, and really enjoyed participating. So, in spite of my belated beginning, I will attempt to post each day in November from here on out. Maybe it’s NaBloFauxPoMo for me, then? NaBloPoPoserMo? Anyway, all you faithful from the start posters, please forgive me.

I also have to tell you all about one of my enduring library frustrations. I cannot convince a single person to read True Grit by Charles Portis. It is an awesome book about a kick ass young woman. It’s tough and intense. It is, in fact, gritty. But when folks hear that title, they switch off. I don’t know why. The movie version spoiled it for them?

I’ve put it on our Staff Picks display umpteen times. Nada. Historical Fiction display, and no play. For the love of Dog, folks, what do I have to do to get you to read a great book already? It’s short, and it rocks. What’s not to love? I'm puzzled.

Guy Fawkes Day

2008-11-05T22:12:00.002-05:00

I know there's a lot of excitement out there about yesterday's election. Heck, I'm fired up, too. But so are the Brits. Well, they are fired up for another reason--it is Guy Fawkes Day. Old G.F. tried to blow up British Parliament in the 1600s, and the authorities caught him and killed his ass. And they're still tickled pink about it. That's an attitude I can really get behind.

Get a visual of the festivities...

At The Villa of Reduced Circumstances, or My Beautiful Laundrettiquette

2008-09-16T20:30:00.003-05:00

In the weeks since I first reported my split with The Hub, I have rented an apartment. The place has many desirable things about it. It is close to work. Heat’s included. It is a decent size for one. What it doesn’t have, aside from the three bedrooms, awesome kitchen, and country life of my previous residence, is a washer and dryer. I have never in my life NOT had a washer and dryer on hand. Even in my early days of adulthood, washers and dryers were on the premises. So, this has opened up a whole new world to me. The world of Laundromats.

I was ignorant about what is considered polite behavior in these establishments. Cleary, the things you are washing can be of a personal nature. In my first foray, for example, I was thrust out into the dusk with my wet, leaden clothes after the grumpy attendant informed me that the joint was closing early. I wound up in a (relatively) clean, well lighted place in the company of several men also in mid-launder. Though I was trying to hide that I was a novice, I’m sure they were on to me. Because as the time drew closer, I began to panic about those after-the-dryer moments.

Do I take my garments from the dryer, folding each as I go? Or do I plop them into the basket, wrinkles be damned, and beat feet to fold my skivvies in the privacy of my own home? I’m sure these guys didn’t want to see my shorts any more than I wanted to show them off. (We’ve had this underwear discussion before, as you may recall…they are boring and grandmotherly.) So, what’s the etiquette here?

I decided that the solution was to find a different place next time and go there instead. And I found just the location. It’s a run down hole of a spot, and included duct tape on many of the appliances (no extra charge for the ambiance.) But my clothes ended up clean. And I could fold to my heart’s content right out of the dryer, and not come into contact with another soul. But I learned an important lesson. Folding is a private matter. For the comfort of all involved, you must respect the space of a folder and always give folders a wide berth. It’s simply the right thing to do.

Beeping Tabs

2008-09-09T22:58:00.001-05:00

I realize that this is no laughing matter, but this headline on Weather.com made me chuckle:

There will be pockets of heavy rain on Wednesday. The western Gulf Coast will beep close tabs on Hurricane Ike.

I know it's serious, but take a moment to spell check, man. Nobody beeps close tabs.

Frosted Lucky Charms

2008-07-22T20:33:00.005-05:00

Check out this huge rainbow. I haven't seen one this spectacular in years.

I recall this Lucky Charms jingle so vividly because we were never allowed to have such Satan cereal at my house as a kid. And that made it seem all the more magical to me.

Easy Street

2008-07-11T06:37:00.002-05:00

Don't you just love it when things grow (that aren't weeds) without any help from you? They make you look good, and one feels oddly accomplished for no reason.

Excuses, Excuses

2008-07-07T16:40:00.005-05:00

I’m getting divorced. There, I said it. I didn’t know how to tell you all. Sometimes there is so much to say that there’s nothing to say—like a giant logjam of thought and words. No, I won’t be giving any of the details. I’m just going to try to pick up where I left off here in the blogosphere. I’m currently staying with my mom and her cat, Henry, in the house where I grew up. How could there be any better blog fodder than that?

My mom and her newspaper delivery person have a relationship that’s lasted for years. They’ve never met, but they correspond regularly through notes. The paper lady’s name is Anna, and she comes at an ungodly hour of the morning. My mom thinks Anna rocks. Anna carefully places my mom’s paper on the porch, so that she (Mom) can reach it without stepping outside the door. And Anna NEVER wakes my mom. Through inclement weather and fair, she delivers.

My mom leaves her a monthly tip, to which she always receives a scrawled thank you note on whatever paper scrap Anna has at her disposal. They exchange holiday greetings and pleasantries in this manner. Saturday, however, my mother opened the door and was paperless. She stepped past the porch and onto the deck. Nada. She began to fear for Anna’s well-being when she spotted the paper at the walkway’s end, carefully wrapped. Ever faithful, Anna explained her uncharacteristic behavior. The note reads "Skunk babies in walkway." You think she deserves some slack on this one?

Don't Let This Happen to You

2008-06-17T13:09:00.002-05:00

Maybe this should go into the "seemed like a good idea at the time" category. Picture the scene. It is a warm day. A parched Sphincter is in search of refreshment. Suddenly, Sphincter spots a sign. Frozen Hot Chocolate! Sphincter forks over $5.00 for this concoction. After about 4 sips, it seems like this was WAY too much of a good thing. But, having just paid a stupid amount of money to treat herself, she soldiers on until nearly the end. Whereby she ends up tossing the rest due to extreme nausea. Not a good investment.

Better Late Than Never?

2008-06-07T08:52:00.002-05:00

I just got an awesome doughnut at the farmer's market. So I celebrated National Doughnut Day a little late. Here in New England, our growing season has just begun and there's not much fresh produce yet. So, I was forced (by my sense of patriotism) to invest in the local economy and buy the doughnut. The sacrifices I make for my country and community...

Thanks to all of you for your "welcome backs." Much appreciated.

National Doughnut Day

2008-06-06T10:33:00.002-05:00

Did you know that today is National Doughnut Day? Those of you in proximity to a Krispy Kreme can apparently get a free doughnut today. I felt this was important news for all of you.

National Doughnut Day History

Krispy Kreme's Observance

Still here, I swear

2008-06-03T08:29:00.003-05:00

This artist has made his work available online. He's worth checking out.
See more of Si Lewen's work and words.

Noctilucent

2008-05-07T17:41:00.001-05:00

I'm coming back, I swear. But for now, did you know that there was such a thing as Noctilucent Clouds? Me neither. They're pretty cool.

I look forward to catching up with all of you in the blogosphere soon!

The Gong Show

2008-04-21T19:04:00.002-05:00

I started thinking about The Gong Show yesterday when I watched my mom struggle to open a paper lawn and leaf bag that ended up over her head. If any of you are familiar with The Unknown Comic, you will see how this became the inspiration for this post.

Persons of a certain age may remember a TV program titled The Gong Show. They had a panel of three mildly famous folks for judges. For some reason, it always seemed like one of them was Klinger from MASH. And acts would perform. If they sucked, one of the judges could smack the gong, and they’d be done. And if the performers made it through without getting gonged, the judges would give them a numerical rating. Kind of precursor to Dancing with the Stars and American Idol, I guess.

But many of the acts were truly awful. Some of them went there with the intention of being gonged, and some were just awful and yet thought they were great. Any one of the three judges could gong. Sometimes you would see a scuffle as one pseudo celeb tried to wrestle another to prevent (or sometimes for the privilege of) a gonging. You could see sometimes how the judges pitied the performers, or enjoyed the lameness and would let the show limp on. But inevitably, it would become unbearable to them and the gong was struck.

And I began to think about how great it would be to just gong people right off the stage of our lives. And if they gave any resistance, the big hook would come out and yank them away. Some freakshow wants to strike up an absurd convo with you? GONG! Some ass on a cell wants to dominate the environment with his obnoxious call? GONG! Some dude comes along wearing the same gym socks since the first Bush administration? GONG.

I can tell you that I have waited patiently through many bad acts, hoping that they would improve. But they usually don’t. So, I've come to this decision. I hereby reserve the right to gong. I can’t just sit around waiting for Klinger* to do my dirty work.

*Is Klinger still alive?

Couldn't have said it better myself...

2008-04-15T17:45:00.002-05:00

Ever have those times when words fail you? You feel how you feel, but are helpless to articulate? I'm having that dilemma. I have elected to borrow the lines of an old favorite, The Waking, by Theodore Roethke. Maybe you'll like them, too. And, besides, it IS National Poetry Month...

The Waking
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me, so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.

Back and with a Meme

2008-04-08T17:47:00.003-05:00

Fresh and Sassy tagged me with this ages ago. My apologies for the delay...

1) What was I doing 10 yrs ago? Working with behavior disordered kids.

2) What are 5 things on my to-do list for today (not in any particular order):
Eat a salad, do laundry, read, shower, and take meds for my broken ass. (details later...)

3) Snacks I enjoy:
I LOVE snacks. Sweet snacks, salty snacks, fruit snacks. One time I was walking through the stacks in my old library, and a book flew off the shelf and smacked me on the head. The book? The Joy of Snacks. I always knew the joy of snacks would get me one day.

4) Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
Travel, write, make soap constantly and endow stuff.

5) Three of my bad habits:
I judge people relentlessly. There's way too much caffeine in my life. I use the word "like" like, so much.

6) 5 places I have lived:
Boston, Brighton, Somersworth (aka NH's armpit), Concord and a frat house in Rhode Island.

7) 5 jobs I have had:
Counselor, office grunt, shop girl, educational therapist, librarian.

8) 5 bloggers that I wanna know more about:
Can't choose! I want to know more about all my blog friends!

Saturday Evening

2008-03-29T20:21:00.001-05:00

Earth Hour

2008-03-29T10:34:00.002-05:00

Tonight from 8PM to 9PM Chez Sphincter will not be using electricity. Why? We are observing Earth Hour. In case you haven’t gone to Google or seen the Weather Channel pieces: Earth Hour is a symbolic worldwide gesture, originated by the World Wildlife Fund. Do I believe that the world will magically change because I live in the dark for an hour? No. But I think that it could be the start of awareness in this country that is WAY overdue. We need to dramatically slow our energy consumption. And I don’t think it would take all that much to do it, if everybody did their little piece. Here’s the basic deal, from the website www.earthhour.org.

Earth Hour was created by WWF in Sydney, Australia in 2007, and in one year has grown from an event in one city to a global movement. In 2008, millions of people, businesses, governments and civic organizations in nearly 200 cities around the globe will turn out for Earth Hour. More than 100 cities across North America including Atlanta, Chicago, Phoenix, San Francisco, Ottawa, Montreal, Toronto and Vancouver.

We invite everyone throughout North America and around the world to turn off the lights for an hour starting at 8 p.m. (your own local time)–whether at home or at work, with friends and family or solo, in a big city or a small town.

Don't be afraid of the dark!

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea

2008-03-24T20:49:00.001-05:00

Has anybody read this book? No cheating—seeing the movie doesn’t count. I have not read it. This brings me shame. I feel like it’s one of those classics that one should have read long ago. And if I go ahead and read it now, thus publicly admitting that I have never read it, the world will know my previous inadequacy. And the thing is, whenever I do read a classic, I am often awed at how cool it is. Like, maybe the classics choosing dudes aren’t colluding to bore us to death after all.

What got me thinking of this most recently is this mission. Yes, I know, this is space and not the sea at all, but you get the J.V. connection. Clearly, this was an author who was ahead of his time. Even now people recognize this. Yet, I’ve never read the man’s works. Am I alone? C’mon, you can tell me.

Happy Easter, Happy Spring

2008-03-23T10:19:00.002-05:00

This photo is from last year. We've got a lot of snow to melt before we'll see flowers in this part of the world.

Um...Yeah.

2008-03-19T20:53:00.002-05:00

Today, a woman squatted down and peed outside the library in full view of the windows. I don't know what else I can possibly say about that...

Leave it to CNN

2008-03-17T20:13:00.002-05:00

Leave it to CNN to sexualize this dude’s disturbing behavior. This wasn’t some guy who streaked past some people for shock value; this guy was out of his gourd and volatile. Cool, CNN! Be sure to zoom in on that package of weenies. Who cares that he could have hurt somebody? He was nude, and that makes it HILARIOUS.

Crap that is our nation’s media.

Deliverance

2008-03-12T21:47:00.002-05:00

I’m reading Deliverance by James Dickey. Yes, THAT Deliverance. And so far, it’s really good. I’ve never seen the movie, but of course I know of the more infamous events. Nothing especially exciting yet. It’s just plain good writing. Yes, it is. Seriously. No, you get out.

Is Crap a Swear?

2008-03-07T19:46:00.000-05:00

This question has plagued me for years. A twelve year old once accused me of swearing when I said crap. I was never of the opinion that crap was a bad word.* This particular kid was allowed by his parents to say pissed and sucks. Both of which seem way worse than crap to me. I recently heard another person assert that crap was on the naughty list. Can anybody shed some light on this for me? Is crap OK or evil? If you will, please tell me your rationale.

*I’m quite pro-crap, but don’t (in most instances) want to be offensive. I use it interchangeably with stuff. “There’s a bunch of crap in the way” = “There’s a bunch of stuff in the way.”

Beware the Quail Eggs

2008-03-05T21:26:00.004-05:00

So, I wonder who Mabel pissed off to receive such special attention? And why was she trying to feed us highly acidic Jalapeno pickled quail eggs in the first place? And is Fargo as weird as it is in the movie?

Mabel's Taste of Home, a.k.a. the evil empire.

Addressed

2008-03-05T11:57:00.001-05:00

I am relieved to tell you that the situation in the previous post has been addressed. These individuals are no longer welcome at our establishment. Thank you all for your feedback!

Questions for the Blogosphere

2008-03-04T20:56:00.002-05:00

If somebody is making rude and offensive remarks to you, is this wrong? What if the things being said are of a sexual nature? What if it has occurred on several occasions? And it happens at work, which is a public place (NOT by fellow employees.) Is this wrong? What if the person making the remarks is an adolescent? Is it still wrong? What if you have made it clear that remarks are unacceptable and still it continues, and also continues toward others in the environment? Opinions on this seem to be mixed, due to the age of the perpetrator. I am of the mind that if an adult was behaving in this manner, I would take legal action. But it’s a minor. Am I being over-reactive to want this behavior to be addressed immediately, regardless of the person’s age? I’m not set on legal action, and I certainly don’t want to be branded a hysteric, but I want it to stop. It’s unpleasant for me and others present.

Example: Today this person and a friend approached a woman and said she smelled like tuna.

Am I over-reacting? I'm hoping for some outside perspective.

Sphincter the Dooce Tempter

As Promised (Put on your Depend Undergarments)

2008-03-01T17:16:00.007-05:00

Path to the propane tank.

The newly excavated mailbox.

The Hub wagers a guess as to where the well head may be.

The cat sizes up the situation through the sliders.

For the Love of Dog, Already...

2008-02-29T20:57:00.002-05:00

We are expected to receive another 8-12 inches of snow by tomorrow's end. I will post photos when the storm abates, and try to give you a sense of how much frickin' snow we've got going here in Sphincterville. It's a lot of snow.* I'm serious. You'd shit if you saw it. You would. I'm just sayin'.

*Roofs are collapsing left and right across the state. See?

This AM

2008-02-27T09:38:00.002-05:00

Ten inches of freshly fallen snow. Oh my head.

Booty Call

2008-02-25T22:33:00.002-05:00

Looks like more snow is on the way to Sphincterville. We're thinking we should just permanently attach these to our feet.

Missed the Saturday Dance

2008-02-23T21:11:00.003-05:00

Today featured (in no particular order)

1) Chipping ice off the driveway

2) Reading Digging In: Tending to Life in Your Own Backyard
by Robert Benson
This was classified as “self-help/gardening.” Have I missed this genre along the way somewhere? Is the act of gardening the self-help? Or is it supposed to help you in your gardening? In spite of its ambiguous categorization, it was a quick, quiet little book that boosted my spirits.

3) Refilling birdfeeders

4) Cat appeasing --wants in, wants out, wants in, wants out…

5) Opening windows and airing out the house

6) Napping

7) Dining on homemade fettuccine and alfredo

8) NOT feeling sorry about the lack of big plans for Saturday evening.

Happy Saturday night, all.
-Reporting live from the fast lane...Sphincter

My Lobotomy

2008-02-18T22:05:00.003-05:00

Not mine. This is the book I was reading. That’s what it was called. It’s about a man, who has the most unfortunate last name of Dully. His problematic behavior at home and school allowed his father and step mother to arrange a lobotomy of the kid. He was twelve. And nobody told him it was coming. In fact, they didn’t tell him it had happened until a few weeks after the procedure. The doctor who did it was world famous for it, in spite of the fact that his patient death rate was pretty high, and there was limited evidence of the operation’s success. The book stemmed from an NPR radio piece of the same name, originally intended to be about the doctor, but which ended up focusing on Howard Dully and his life experiences. The following link will tell you more, but there’s a photo of the kid with an ice pick in his head during the procedure. Yes, it’s really an ice pick. Just so you know.

NPR’s My Lobotomy.

I also learned that Rosemary Kennedy, who I always understood to be the reason behind Special Olympics, had been a functional (if slow) adult until she was lobotomized at age 23. It was only after the failed procedure that she required institutionalization.

What a disturbing chapter in medicine’s history. It makes me question what common practices used today may be having a similar destructive impact upon patients.

Weather or Not

2008-02-12T22:31:00.000-05:00

Am I the only person who makes it a point to watch the weather forecast on the local news, and then spaces out during? For instance, I start off interested. But then, the meteorologist is droning on about high and low pressure systems. Monthly precip totals, lake effect snow someplace (sorry, Spacecase) blah blah blah…And before I know it, it’s commercial break and I realize that I have no idea what the weather is supposed to be. Dang I hate it when I do that—and it’s not like it requires a great span of attention. Less than 5 minutes, right? Thank Jeebus for weather.com.

Slow Ride

2008-02-09T15:12:00.000-05:00

Perhaps you are all familiar with the 70s classic tune by Foghat, entitled Slow Ride. There may even be a few of you that know that this song appears in the latest version of the video game craze Guitar Hero. I, of course, am up on this because I am forced to feign coolness in order to amuse the teens I work with at the library. Yes, we play it at the library. So, Friday was GH day. One group of 4 young guys, all in the 7th grade, attended. They were good kids, fun and wildly over stimulated by the game play.

In the corner of the room stands an official looking podium, complete with microphone. Regardless of the program that is taking place, this inevitably becomes the center of focus at some point. The kids want to use that thing. And bad. Gender doesn’t matter, maturity level doesn’t matter. Everybody wants to try it out. So, I often make them wait until the tail end of whatever is going on, and then let them say one thing they really want to say. You may think that this sounds risky, but they’ve never taken advantage of the expletive option.

So, Friday was no exception. After one of these 7th graders waited patiently (“can I use it now? How about now? is it time yet? can I please use it now? are we going to have time to use it?”) I finally let him do his thing during the last song, Slow Ride. After nearly an hour of obsessing about this, he got his big chance. He chose:

“Slow ride,
Poop it EASY…”

“Ok. You’re shut off.”

The seventh graders were on the floor, collapsed into fits of boy giggles. Being the responsible adult in the room it was my job to appear disapproving and redirect them back to appropriate behavior.

When I got home later, I told the The Hub, and we laughed until we cried. At many different intervals throughout the evening.

So, I hope you have a good weekend ya’ll. Poop it easy.

A Dream Come True

2008-02-04T20:01:00.000-05:00

I’ve finally found myself the Leatherman tool of my dreams. It’s SO cool. It’s compact and full of nifty features. Aside from just your standard pocketknife, it’s got needlenose pliers, screwdrivers (Phillips and regular) scissors and wire cutters. Now, I have seen all these features present previously in a Leatherman. And I have envied those who possessed them. But for me, there was something missing. A very important something. And I want my Leatherman to do it all. Especially if one finds oneself in a shit hits the fan (SHTF) situation. Like, if I am fighting for survival, and actually using all of these gadgets. And kicking ass like I totally could. And then, say, I suddenly feel like in spite of my best efforts my demise is imminent. This is where the key feature comes in. I want to be able to open all beverages in my immediate vicinity pronto. I want a corkscrew. Must have it, in fact. Because I don’t want my last thought to be, “Shit, I wish I had a corkscrew!” That would be so undignified.

Behold, Sphincter’s Mighty Leatherman. *

*Disregard the festive yuppies pictured under the "packed with excitement" caption. They just don't want you to know how hardcore this thing really is.

Austen Powered

2008-01-29T22:15:00.000-05:00

Sorry, straight gentlemen. This will likely not be a post of great interest to you.

So, continuing along the Jane Austen theme… Masterpiece has a place where you can vote for your favorite Jane Man. The most popular, of course, has been Fitzwilliam Darcy. Understandable. Especially when played by Colin Firth. I’m more for Colonel Brandon, myself. I prefer a calmer, more settled sort as match to Jane's heroines. Regardless of who you choose, I think we can all agree that Willoughby is a cad, can’t we? That slimy dandy.

See Jane Rule

2008-01-27T20:25:00.000-05:00

Jane Austen! I love all the repression and bodice busting love. These Masterpiece Theatre productions have me enthralled. Pride and Prejudice, also known as P&P, has long been a remedy for the blues in Sphincter World. Tonight is Mansfield Park. In fact, this post must be cut short so that I can prepare myself for its viewing. Don’t mock it 'til you've tried it.

Buy Me a Diner

2008-01-22T20:26:00.000-05:00

Some gals will settle for dinner, but not me. I want a diner. My own diner with 24 hour a day access to grilled cheese done right. And soda. And stools that spin. And those crazy chrome topped sugar dispensers. I don’t want to go to the trouble to run a diner for business mind you; I just want one at my disposal. I could have people run it for me. You know, cook the food, and do math related things. There would be lots of straws, of course. And plenty of pies. Who wouldn’t want to eat at Sphincter’s Diner?

American Diner Museum's Diners for Sale

Hats Off

2008-01-21T10:26:00.000-05:00

Mercury Rising

2008-01-17T21:08:00.000-05:00

A reader alerted me to this information. Metal fillings contain mercury. No, I’m not making this up. Quit looking everything I say up on Snopes, will ya? I’m serious. This is from the Mayo Clinic web site:

Mayo Clinic

So we can have mercury in our teeth, no problem, but must dispose of compact fluorescent bulbs as hazardous waste? I’m so confused. I need guidance. Maybe Mercury, Roman messenger of the Gods, can IM me some 411 about all this. Because I don’t get it. Are CFLs good or bad? I mean, it's MERCURY.*

*Mercury in teeth=OK. For now. Until they tell us otherwise. Get a pair of needle nosed pliers just in case.

Crazy ‘Bout the Mercury

2008-01-15T19:52:00.000-05:00

Am I the only person alive who didn't, until today, realize that compact fluorescent bulbs contain mercury? Here I have been, joyfully on the bandwagon, feeling so green. And I just read in the local paper about a law just enacted here in NH that requires compact fluorescents to be disposed of as hazardous waste. Because of mercury. MERCURY. If legislators are actually addressing it, I’m assuming it’s already a big problem. I checked it out on the state's Department of Environmental Services web site. Here's what it said:

What should you do with a CFL when it burns out?
Spent CFLs should never be disposed of in regular household trash. As a matter of fact, it is against the law in New Hampshire to dispose of any mercury-containing products in landfills, incinerators, or transfer stations. ENERGY STAR qualified CFLs have a warranty, so if the bulb fails within the warranty period, you may be able to return it to your retailer for replacement. Otherwise, the N.H. Department of Environmental Services (DES) recommends that burned out CFLs be recycled at local recycling facilities or retail stores if at all possible. If recycling is not an option, DES recommends that they be taken to a household hazardous waste collection site. These recommendations apply to recycling/disposal of all fluorescent bulbs, including fluorescent tube lamps and CFLs. To identify your current local recycling and/or household hazardous waste collection options, you should always contact your local municipality.

What? WTF? How is this a good idea? We are betting on people who sue McDonald's for their obesity to do their parts to keep mercury out of the environment? We are doomed. DOOMED.

I'm Officially Ancient

2008-01-12T20:57:00.000-05:00

How do I know? Because I just went to the grocery store. On a Saturday night. For real food and supplies, not just beer. By myself. And then…and then…this is so hard to say…I found myself grooving to the music they were playing. Do you understand? I GROOVED. To grocery store music. Before I knew what I was doing, I didn’t mean to...it just sort of…happened. Noooooo!

When life gets you down...

2008-01-10T20:23:00.001-05:00

resort to comfort food.

Thank you, Almighty, for the grilled cheese sandwich.

With the angle cut.

NH Primary Day

2008-01-08T21:07:00.001-05:00

Look at the volume of mailings we've received in the past couple of days from candidates. They want to assure us that they are working hard for the environment and will bring about real change.

More Sphincter on Politics

2008-01-06T09:56:00.000-05:00

My feeling about the Democratic debate was that it was a train wreck. I felt that the questions posed were wildly editorial. And the results were not pretty. I, like many New Hampshirites, am registered as an Independent voter. (The Hub and I have a whole 2 party-system-is-evil theory which fuels the Independent status.) However, I tend to identify strongly with Democratic Party views. So, I was particularly curious about what the Democratic candidates had to say. I was weirded out by the seemingly sudden alliance between Edwards and Obama. And I felt that it was disgraceful that remaining candidates Dennis Kucinich and Mike Gravel were excluded from the discussion. The “consolation” for these candidates seemed to be a brief segment of Q&A following the debate with local idiot/anchor Tom Griffith. Which I understand was only aired locally, and not nationally. Griffith managed to spend the entire session appearing as though he was stifling a fart.

I am posting links to these candidate sites not because I support them, but because I feel it was grossly unfair that they were excluded from the national forum.

Regarding the two party system, I respectfully dissent.
Sphincter

Dennis Kucinich
Mike Gravel.

Sphincter on Politics

2008-01-05T20:46:00.000-05:00

I just watched the Republican debate on ABC (broadcast live from NH.) I have declared a winner. Mitt Romney has my vote for the smuggest bastard with the most patronizing facial expressions. He also wins in the best ability to evade questions and accuse others of negativity category.

The Democratic segment has yet to air. There may be more Sphincteric Awards forthcoming.

*Now journalists are doing commentary on the debate so far. This makes me nuts. I just watched it. I heard it with my own ears. I heard the actual candidates speak the actual words. Why are you now trying to interpret for me what they said?

Cutting Crossways

2008-01-02T22:45:00.000-05:00

When I was growing up, grilled cheeses and PB&Js were standard fare. We always bought the same kind of bread (that soft Wonder-like wheat) and the sandwiches were always cut straight down the middle. You know, where the alleged butter split was. So, when we went out someplace and I ordered grilled cheese I was awestruck when it arrived with a diagonal cut. The halves had little points at the bottom. I loved that crazy diagonal cut! How exotic! Somehow the sandwich just tasted better cut crossways. And yet, for years, well into adulthood, I ate all my homemade sandwiches with the cut down the middle. Oh sure, I would occasionally shake it up with Fritos or something, but it NEVER occurred to me that I could just cut the sandwich crossways. Me. Right there in the comfort of my own home.

I don’t recall the exact moment when it finally dawned on me. But, sadly, it was not all that long ago. I have the power of the diagonal cut. I can cut the damned sandwich however I want to do it. Nobody can stop me, and in fact, who the fuck ever tried? And yet, I get a thrill of rebellion every time I slice at an angle. So, here’s my fear. If it took me all that time to figure out that I rule my own stupid sandwich, what else haven’t I considered?

(I had a similar deal with mashed potatoes, too. It’s all about food with me.)

New Record in Sphincterville

2007-12-31T17:11:00.001-05:00

We have officially broken the record for the snowiest December. The last one was set in 1876 and was 43 inches. This December, we’ve just cleared 44.5 inches. And more snow expected tomorrow. But that won’t count for 2007, of course. Thankfully, I’m a snow lover. And I don’t have to leave the house until Wednesday.

Giving the Bird or Who You Calling a Tufted Titmouse?

2007-12-27T22:03:00.000-05:00

I just had to update. I was creeping myself out looking at that last post. I will instead share a photo of my latest welcome visitor. Ahhh. Isn’t that better?

Creepy Greetings!

2007-12-25T17:16:00.000-05:00

One of the “benefits” of living in N.H. is the constant barrage of junk mail one receives from the candidates in the month before the primary election. One of the “benefits” of the primary election being held in early January is that you get heartfelt, personal attention from the politicians and their families during the holiday season. In the form of holiday cards. Featuring creepy poses and facial expressions. Looking like constipated muppets.
You all envy me now, don’t you?

Look Out for Holiday Snoops

2007-12-23T13:45:00.001-05:00

A certain member of the household has been snooping.

Barn-y

2007-12-21T11:08:00.000-05:00

More views from the 'hood.

Photo again courtesy of The Hub.

Snowy Start To Winter in N.H.

2007-12-20T21:56:00.000-05:00

The object formerly known as my bird bath.

Photo courtesy of The Hub.

StoryNory

2007-12-19T18:15:00.001-05:00

Yes, I am incredibly delinquent with my posts. But until I get it together for a real one, you should check StoryNory out. It's not just for kids. It's quite soothing. The lovely-voiced Natasha will read you some wonderful children's stories. Including the Brit version of "Twas the Night Before Christmas," which is "A Visit from Saint Nicholas."

Oops! I Did It Again...

2007-12-12T21:19:00.000-05:00

You all convinced me. I went back for it. I did strike a deal with The Hub that these latest two typewriters would not become permanent residents of Chez Sphincter. This one weighs about as much as a bus. I can't wait to pimp it out.

Transformation

2007-12-09T21:35:00.000-05:00

Before Sphincter's magical treatment

After Sphincteric efforts

Old Yankees here in New England hate to see anything go to waste. Many of us are a bit thrifty, to put it nicely. I am one of these sorts. The Hub made the mistake of taking me with him to the dump and recycling center over the weekend. They have a shack of stuff people want to unload for free. I spied a woman bringing in TWO vintage typewriters. I wanted to yell out “What are you DOING? How could you?” But I didn’t. Yankees also tend to be a bit reserved. Instead, after she left, I went in and was faced with a dilemma. Two cool old typewriters, both in need of serious TLC, and heavy as anvils. Now, I already have an old typewriter from the 30s. Did I need two more? No. But there they were, sitting right there. Calling me. I made the excruciating decision to choose only ONE of them. I figured The Hub would leave me there along with them if I tried to haul both home. So I chose this one. Clean up involved vacuuming, Q-tip cleanings, brushing and oiling. And now, look at it. You may think that it’s lame, but I am thrilled. Shut up.

But there’s still that other one. Out there all alone. Unloved and caked with dust and 70 years of grime. Oh, it pains me.

Safe2Pee

2007-12-06T22:00:00.000-05:00

The wonder that is the online journal American Libraries Direct has bestowed upon me another gem of knowledge. There’s a site dedicated to bathrooms across America where it is safe for all to pee. It's geared toward the transgendered crowd, looking to avoid the bathroom hassle. I’ve never had to think about it, but that is probably quite a dilemma. I’m amazed at the stuff I don’t know about because it’s not part of my daily experience. Who knew?

Safe2Pee