Welcome Mat, please wipe your feet

Yesterday I posted this big, goopy post on this blog, and then after a couple of hours I got nervous about it and decided to remove it. I can summarize that post in this way: I’ve been a little nervous about new people that I know coming to look at this blog. For a long time hardly anyone read it and I didn’t have to be nervous about what I said here or worry about whether anyone would like it or not. I am trying to be okay with this new change, and hopefully it will be a good change, but it still makes me nervous, because I’m used to being very shy and reserved, and this blog kind of blows that cover.

So, welcome to my blog, visitors both old and new. I hope you find something of interest, and if not, that’s okay, too. I was mainly writing for myself in the first place, anyway.

Obserwuj? mnie *crank* co ?eby *robocop*

Earlier today, someone in Rzeszw, Poland googled the phrase “watch me crank that robocop,” and google directed this person to my blog. I’m not sure why, but everything about that just makes me really happy. Already established as one of America’s finest young poets, our boy soulja has now transcended all boundaries of language, time and space. He does indeed tell them, after all.

At the dump

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Here is a view of all our stuff after we threw it into the trough at the dump. At the time it was so liberating to just throw all this stuff away, but now I realize we were a little stupid about it. As I looked at this picture, I realized some of the stuff maybe we could have given to goodwill (although we had already taken two trucks full of stuff to goodwill before we went to the dump.) My dad had gone through most of this stuff, and I had forgotten that it existed. When I saw him throwing that ecto pack out there, for a second I was sad, and then I was thinking, I’m not going to play with that, and kids these days aren’t even going to know what it is, so of what use is it anywhere? I have since learned that these items sell for one hundred dollars or more on ebay. So if nothing else, I could have made one hundred dollars, or I could have kept them with all my other clutter as more irreplaceable items of memorabilia from my childhood. Maybe the dump is the best place for them anyway. Seriously, who spends $100 for an old “proton pack and ecto containment unit?”

Preemptive Strike

There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love. (1 John 4:18).

I was just reading, and when I came to this scripture it floored me in about ten different ways. I felt I just had to share it.

The next verse does give some additional perspective, saying, “We loved him, because he first loved us.” He put it all out there for us to see, without any kind of commitment or trust from us. God has no fear. He will love us no matter what, because he already just does. It was never a secret, it was never a maybe, there was never a doubtful restraint. He’s already done it: the love is there no matter what we do with it. It’s constant and eternal and trustworthy, because God has the greatest integrity and will never change. In other words, perfect love. How can we have any fear about that?

And then, the next phase sets in: we are supposed to be like Him. Which means love no matter the consequence. A lot to think about, but it feels really good right now.

Scene from my bookshelf

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<!– Scene from my bookshelf, originally uploaded by froztfreez. –!>

“Why, yes, those are the British editions of Cloud Atlas and Black Swan Green!”

“Why, yes, that is a rubber doorknob cover made in the likeness of the beloved Ghostbusters character Slimer!”

Most of the children’s literature is packed in boxes. I just realized that I need a new bookshelf and an organizational method very badly.

Molcasalsa

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I just couldn’t resist taking this picture yesterday, And then, of course, I had to share it. My first attempt at a macro shot with my new camera.

If you can correctly identify this item, you win!

I can haz cool jr hi libary?

Today I was trained in the ways of the library. I went out to a junior high and was shown the ropes by a woman that works in my office half-time and out at this library half-time. She is the “secondary media specialist” of our district, meaning she is overseeing how the libraries should be run in our district. The reason for this brief tutelage in the biblionic arts is this: I had to be taught the basics of circulation and given a login for all the junior high and high school libraries, because part of my job is soon going to include occasionally filling-in (substituting is such a dirty word in the schools) for some of the librarians when they are unable to fulfill their duties.

Her library was so awesome: bright and clean and filled with cool books that kids would actually want to read, as well as kids that actually want to read them. And she said today was a slow day. She actually had a manga collection. That’s right, mangas in a public school library. I kept comparing it to my old school libraries. My junior high didn’t seem to have any books published since the 70s, and pretty much no fiction. In my high school, it was the same deal, except that I found a couple of rare treasures that I greatly enjoyed (an ancient collection of Franz Kafka stories springs to mind), but that was about it, and the only reason I found any treasures was because I was by no means the average high school reader. School libraries were always lame, and kind of dreary. Not places even a bookish kid like me ever wanted to hang out or study. Anyway, you had to go to the public library or a bookstore to get anything good.

For those of you that have been following along out there in bloggie land, I believe I have mentioned before a tentative interest in becoming a junior high or high school librarian (I’m thinking junior high would be a little more fun). At any rate, seeing how good this library is got me quite excited about the possibility of running such a library, not a daft old place with orange-bound books that are only touched when the yearly inventory is done. Now, this library has something extra going for it that most of the others don’t have: it is in a school that is less than a decade old, versus most of the schools, which have libraries 30-100 years old. So at this model library, none of the books are very old and the space is more appealing because they’ve learned to build schools much more pleasantly in the past decade or so. So it would take a lot of work to get some of the other school libraries to the point that this one is, if it is even possible. I’ve been on the fence about this for a long time, but right now I’m feeling quite interested in pursuing studies in this direction. I need to talk to my boss about it tomorrow, to see if he thinks it is a good idea for me to pursue it (because if he doesn’t there’s not much point to it). He did advocate it to me once when I very first started working in the department, which may be a good sign. Of course, he also told me I would be working a lot in the libraries this year, which I had thought would give me a chance to have a real taste and decide if I like it or not, but I’ve barely been in libraries at all, and the few times I have been in them I mostly did manual labor (Have I mentioned my days at Granger High spent entirely wheeling cart after cart of old magazines out across the speed-bump-filled parking lot to the dumpster, or the day I had to inventory by serial number all of these quality items at Kearns High, just so they could be properly surplussed and then trashed?) At any rate, wish me luck.

Froz-T-Ph??

After at least a year of meaning to but never getting around to it, I finally went and tried some ph? for lunch today. I was sort of clumsy with the chopsticks, but I guess I did okay. I managed to eat as much as I wanted to, at least. I went to a franchise place called Ph? Hoa because I had found their menu online once and knew it would have English descriptions so that I would have a clue what to order. Even though it’s a chain, it was being run by Vietnamese and had a very local feel to it, and there were as many Vietnamese customers there as non-Vietnamese. In other words, you don’t have to worry about it being a Vietnamese Panda Express or anything like that. I must say, it’s a pretty good meal. I wonder if there is room for ph? on our menu here at the Froz…