Larocque and Roll

To the people who pack my groceries January 13, 2008

Hi! You may know me from some of the grocery stores I shop in - the woman with the motley collection of cloth bags and small selection of plastic bags in case I purchase chicken and/or fish, which could be hazardous if they leaked.

I come to the front of the check-out line and quickly give you my cloth bags because all too often, you don’t bother checking with me if I need plastic bags, and by the time I manage to get your attention, you’ve already thrown the first four items into the plastic bag. Therein ensues much eye-rolling and heaving of sighs as you make a display of hauling my stuff out of the plastic bags, then grudgingly putting them into the cloth bags I’ve given you.

Now, I hand you something like five or six cloth bags - all of which are in good condition [1]. Yet, even though there are *clearly* enough bags in which for you to put all my groceries, you take great pride in putting all of them into one or two bags. What gives?

You did this when I got back here after Christmas vacation, and I had to get quite a bit of stuff. You got everything into four bags even though I’d handed you every single cloth bag I was able to round up before I left the house [2]. When I got home, not only were the heavy things on the top, a package of tofu was busted and the milk [3] was leaking because you’d packed one of the bags in a sloppy manner.

And today! I watched you put everything into two cloth bags as the other three say unused and rejected beside them. I watched as you struggled to pick up the bag to put in in my cart, decide it wasn’t heavy enough, and then put more stuff in it! Yes, I rolled my eyes; and yes, I grabbed an empty bag and put half of what was in that first bag into the second bag while you watched - you put the grapes and bananas at the bottom of the first bag, and I didn’t want them squashed when I got home!

Can we not come to some sort of understanding? That when a bag is too heavy for you to pick up, there’s probably too much stuff in it and it’s time to grab another bag?

I’m just making a suggestion…

[1] They’re all pretty solid bags, even if not a single one of them is for whatever grocery store chain I happen to be in. Why buy cloth bags when I’ve got a dozen bags from various conferences laying around?
[2] Let’s call it an even dozen bags of various shapes and sizes.
[3] My expensive, organic milk!

What she said August 18, 2007

Brison first MP to wed under same-sex marriage law

“To each their own,” said Pat Eldridge of nearby Canning. “Everyone’s entitled to their own opinions and own way of life. He’s not hurting us. If they’re in love and want to be together, then that’s awesome. Love is hard to find.”

My god - I couldn’t have said it any better. It’s so perfect and it’s so true.

Not only do I play one on television, I am one in real life March 4, 2007

As y’all are aware, I am a librarian. I am also a very lazy person, which is why I don’t really spend all that much time writing about what’s going on in Libraryland - if you were truly interested in it, there are a hundred other people out there doing it better than I am. However, I’m also very opinionated, although I choose not to spew forth my many and varied opinions here (or at least, all that often). Something happened recently that made me want to climb onto my soapbox and voice my opinion.

A group of librarians have publicly stated that they will not add a book, titled The Higher Power of Lucky, to their collections because it contains the word “scrotum.” (here’s the response from the author, who also happens to be a librarian.)

Here’s what I think about this:

Firstly, the librarian’s and parent’s reaction is immature and childish, and more suited to fourth-graders than adults. In the context in which it is used (the character sees a snake bite a dog’s scrotum), the word is appropriate - it’s the proper word for the part of the anatomy being referenced. Would they have preferred the author used a different term for it? Are they too horrified that children might learn the anatomically correct name for it instead of calling it something cutesy and euphemistic, like “the thingy”? By stating that the appearance of this word will cause some kind of mental harm, are we not sending the message that there are parts of our bodies that are shameful and should never be talked about if we tell children, “You can’t read that because it contains a bad word”?

Secondly, since when is it our job as librarians to censor what people read? We’re supposed to make the books, the movies, the music, the artwork, the information, etc. available to all, and let the individual patron make up their minds. If I don’t like what an author or an artist has to say, then okay - I won’t read/view their work, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to prevent you from reading/viewing it and letting you come to your own conclusions. If a parent doesn’t want their child to read or watch something, then it is up to the parent to explain to the child why. Don’t tell us to remove something from our collection because you can’t be bothered to have a conversation with your child about your beliefs and values, or about how they feel about something they’ve read/watched/heard.

There are a number of reasons a library might not have a controversial work available - underfunding, it’s been stolen/gone missing, it’s difficult to obtain, it’s out of print/out of circulation, and so on. However, to stand up and say, “I’m not going to add this to my collection because it has a dirty word in it!” is shameful and a black mark on our profession.

And then there’s the whole backlash effect - any time someone says “let’s ban this book because it contains passages about witchcraft/the occult/sex/drug use/etc!”, a lot of people sit up, take notice, and say, “hey, I hadn’t planned on reading that, but now I’m intrigued!” Calls to ban books aren’t at all effective, because it only makes them more popular. Which brings me to this…

This past week was Freedom to Read week. A friend and former co-worker of mine has organized a banned book reading challenge to celebrate the freedom to read whatever you want without anyone telling you why you shouldn’t be able to. Sign up, indicate how many banned books you’re going to read between now and the end of June, and then report back when you’ve finished reading them.

Addendum to Sunday’s post December 14, 2004

Firstly, I keep forgetting that I’ve been seeing posters and previews for Flight of the Phoenix. It’s a remake of the 1965 version which starred a grizzled James Stewart and a youthful Richard “Dickie” Attenborough. Dennis Quaid looks nothing like Stewart, although there is an striking resemblance between Giovani Ribisi and Attenborough (except that he’s not as roundish). What irritates me in a way that irritates me for being irritated is that in the updated version, they’ve added a female character.

So why does this irritate me? Because there wasn’t a female character in the original, and adding one now doesn’t make much sense. It strikes me as if the producers/directors decided to add a woman to the cast to a) add sexual tension; b) appeal to a female audience; and c) be PC.

And it bothers me that I’m irritated by this. I feel like I’m being disloyal to the sisterhood by mentioning it. I should be pleased that they’re making an effort to portray women as being as capable as men at surviving under harsh conditions. It’s just that I felt like rolling my eyes when I saw the poster - “Oh great. Another attempt at demonstrating women can kick ass when necessary.”

(Oh, and in the original, the crash happened in the Sahara, and was filmed in California and Arizona. In the update, the crash happens in the Gobi Desert (Mongolia). Guess where it was filmed? Yeah, I said “the Sahara!” too. Actually, it was filmed in Namibia. Psych!)

Secondly, lest you think I’m a new member of the Ryan Reynolds Fangirl Club, I’ll have you know that I used to watch “Two Guys, a Girl and a Pizza Place” many years ago. I wasn’t a faithful viewer, but I did like the show. I’d always lumped him in with Jason Lee and Ben Browder in the “Sarcastic, But Cute” category. (Of course, now I’m going to have to move Lee to the “Cute and Geeky” category, and rename the category “Sarcastic, Cute, and Ripped.”)

This is sad November 9, 2004

St. Catharines, Ont. — A rural Ontario community was left reeling with grief Tuesday after a mother and her seven children perished in a massive overnight inferno that reduced their farmhouse to a blackened, smouldering ruin.More than 40 firefighters arrived at the scene in the township of West Lincoln, south of Grimsby, Ont., just before midnight Monday night to find the two-storey home completely engulfed in flames.

(Original article)

My mom called earlier in the evening to find out why I hadn’t called. “Called about what?” said I, who had just awaken from a nap. “Call to find out about the fire.”

“What fire?” Oh crap, I thought. Something major in Fenwick has burned down. God, I hope it wasn’t the library.

“The fire in West Lincoln [technically, my parents live in West Lincoln and not Pelham, but it takes too long to explain]. It was on the CBC.”

No, I hadn’t heard about it. I went to the Globe and Mail web site and found the article. A tragedy, that’s what it is. The mother and seven children - all under the age of 12. My sisters thought it might be a family that went to our church and had gone to the school Mom teaches at, but it wasn’t - thankfully.

The recent US elections? A setback and an annoyance. This is tragic.

Still speechless… November 4, 2004

Almost everything I read today suggested that scumbag half-wit won because many people liked his stand on “moral issues” - in other words, gay mariage and abortion.

Yes, because that’s what’s really wrong with the country. Forget the economy. Forget the mess in Iraq and the Middle East. Forget the Every Child Left Behind education strategy. Forget the corporate scandals, the constant threat of terrorism being held over your heads, and the failing social support system. None of that was important. What really mattered were those damned gays and loose women.

Spare me.

I had a whole long rant composed in my head this afternoon about opposition to gay marriage. What it boiled down to was this:

1. You think that a man marrying another man or a woman marrying another woman is a threat to the sanctity of marriage? Please. I’ve heard various numbers tossed around, but the divorce rate hovers somewhere around the 40% mark. And since only hetrosexuals can get married at this point - guess what? It’s straight people who are messing up the institution as it stands. Not gays. Straights. Hetros.
2. How sad is it they would deny the happiness and satisfaction of a loving relationship between two consenting adults simply because you’re squicked out by it? The world is a big huge place filled with depressing, mean things; it’s cold and impersonal, and when you think about how much could be done to make it right and how little is actually done to make it right, it’s almost overwhelming. So when you find someone to share your life with, whose happiness is tied to your own, who knows all your faults and imperfections and still wants to be with you more than anything else in the world, why deny that? You love whom you love, and calling that sinful and wrong is surely a greater evil than saying, “I now pronounce you, Adam and Steve, husband and husband - go forth and be happy!”

As for abortion, I’m pro-choice. I don’t think I’d ever have one for philosophical reasons, but that doesn’t mean I think other woman shouldn’t. It’s a personal decision that a woman has to make, and just because she has the option to abort doesn’t mean she will choose it. The analogy I use is this:

You want ice cream. Nay, you need ice cream - maybe for personal reasons, maybe for medical reasons. But all you have is vanilla. Vanilla just doesn’t cut it for whatever reason. So, there’s chocolate - chocolate is good too, another valid option. Now you have a choice - vanilla or chocolate. Sometimes you need chocolate because otherwise terrible things will happen. But sometimes you just want ice cream - and having the choice between vanilla and chocolate doesn’t mean you’re going to chose chocolate. At least you have that choice.

I think that’s all I want to say on this. I’m still going to be fuming, but I’ll be moving on shortly.

Speechless November 3, 2004

I can’t…. I’m just…. I’m… speechless… just….

*sigh*

I can’t believe that lying sack of shit got re-elected. Jeezuz Goddamn Christ Almighty. What the hell were you thinking?

I’m so upset and angry that I can’t even articulate it. I’m angry that enough people were able to look past his lack of accountability and experience and hatemongering and warmongering to vote for him again. I’m upset that Americans are going to be convinced that the whole world hates them when really we despise their politicians and politics. I’m heartbroken that the thuggish and bullying tactics that have been used since 9/11 on Middle East nations and other nations that wouldn’t support that pathetic excuse to invade Iraq and don’t believe the whole thing has been handled with anything approaching intelligence, will continue for another four years.

I had a headache for most of the day - a bad one. Partly caused by tar fumes from the building across the street, and partly because I couldn’t stop thinking about my dear friend who lives in upstate NY and my Mom’s cousin in Boston.

About a year and a half ago, my friend made the extremely difficult personal decision to come out of the closet. His brother is gay, and he’d been trying to deny the possibility that he might also be gay. But once he acknowledged it and told us, I congratulated him, told him it didn’t change how I felt about him, and wished him well. I had hoped that by coming out, he could finally feel free to be himself, and that the weight of hiding who and what he was could finally be lifted off his shoulders. But no - apparently, his “type” are deviants and evil, and shouldn’t be afforded the same rights and freedoms that the rest of the population are. Eleven states passed referendums banning gay marriage. What’s next - discrimination, isolation, repression - I shudder to think.

My Mom’s cousin in Boston works for Polaroid. It’s a company that’s not doing well at all. At the end of every month, she has to wait to hear if she’s got a job next month because they are constantly laying staff off. And if the worst does happen, what does she have? She doesn’t have a pension, because they lost it when the company was taken over a few years ago. She’s not far from retirement, but what the hell is she supposed to live on if she makes it that far? Yet CEOs of companies who mismanage them to the point of bankruptcy get huge payoffs and bonuses - what? You’re not a CEO and your company has gone belly-up? Too bad. So sad. Didn’t you people remember Enron?

What’s wrong with you? You actually think that idiot has any plans or goals beyond completely screwing up the Middle East and giving in to every fantasy of the wacko fundies? You thunk wrong.

There’s nothing else I want to say, or can say without resorting to strong, family-unfriendly language. If you need me, I’ll be quietly fuming over here for the next four years.

Another post about my bad mood August 28, 2004

Guys? Consider yourselves very lucky that you didn’t accompany me to the market this morning. Thursday I was grumpy, yesterday I was mildly irritated. Today I was downright foul. I’m seriously PMSing, which doesn’t usually happen - most of the time I get cramps and call it a day. But this is one of the other times, where I become a right royal bitch about two weeks in advance.

Usually, it manifests itself as what I like to call my “anti-people” mood. I don’t like being around crowds, and the littlest things make me grit my teeth and lower my head. Like, at the market this morning - if one more person had stopped in the middle of the walkway just one more time, there would have been mayhem. Elderly ladies with carts - at whom I normally smile and let in front of me! - were cutting me off left, right and centre, and taking their damn sweet time about it, too. The perogie place only had one bag of blueberry perogies left, and I’m not going to have a chance to get more before I go home next weekend. And let’s not go into the mentality of the drivers in the parking lot (or Sudbury drivers in general…)

It was no better at the grocery store. I think I said the f-word more times in ten minutes that I usually do over the course of a month. And again with the getting caught behind people who walked down the middle of the aisle and stopped for no obvious reason. It took for bloody ever to find the Brita filters, and the Wheat Thins were on the bottom of the cracker shelves, behind a box of some other kind of cracker that some idiot was too lazy to put back into the right spot.

When I got to the checkout, the guy in front of me was arguing about a bag of trail mix, so someone had to be dispatched to fetch the two kinds plus the price label. The guy behind me almost ran over my foot with his cart and kept pushing my groceries further down the belt. I turned around to glare at him, and it was some middle-aged dude with unkempt facial hair and an Abercrombie and Fitch t-shirt - there are so many things wrong with that image, that I don’t even know where to start.

And when I get home? I’m missing a bag of groceries - the one with my cereal and the *&$% Wheat Thins.

I’d barricade myself in my apartment for the rest of the afternoon, but the laundry is threatening to take over. *sigh*

The bitch is back August 27, 2004

Could I have picked a worse day to oversleep and wake up with a headache and nausea? Today was my four-month review, and dashing in five minutes late wasn’t how I wanted to start the day. The review went well - I’m not as flaky as I think I am, and there were only two suggestions about my work so far. And I got laughed at because I was freaking out about being slightly late - I stayed a little later to make up for it.

Generally, the last two days I’ve been in a foul mood. Yesterday I snapped (sort of) at one of my co-workers. I wasn’t really mad, I just didn’t want to reorganize the back office because I had stuff to do. So I was grumpy most of the day, and because I was tired most of today, I was still slightly grumpy. The couple behind me at the grocery store tonight almost felt the full force of my wrath - who the jeezly hell cares when egg salad officially becomes egg salad? The sounded like teenagers - “Well, I asked Jackie, and she said it was when you put it on the bread!” “Jackie told me it was when you added the mayo!” OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! Shut up both of you! And tell your kids that the next one to whine about potato salad vs. coleslaw is going to be banished to a realm where all there is to eat is potato salad and coleslaw!

So tonight is for staying in and taking out my frustrations on Wicked. Less than 100 pages to go - woo-hoo.

Curse of the Online Book Retailer August 18, 2004

I think that Amazon.ca and Chapters Indigo are conspiring to deny me my reading and viewing material.

This past May, I ordered two books from Amazon.ca - Keeping Current, by Steven M. Cohen (it’s a book about the Internet for Librarians), and The Value of X, by Poppy Z. Brite. Both are published by American publishers, and aren’t readily available in Canada, so I expected a delay. I received the Cohen book in July, and it’s excellent - it currently has a place of honour on my bookcase beside my desk.

Value of X? I got another email from Amazon.ca earlier this week telling me it had been delayed another 4-6 weeks, which puts the new delivery day sometime in the month of September. It’s been delayed four times now, and I’m getting antsy. Every so often, I check the publisher’s page, and the preorder is sold out. I have no clue what the delay is, and I’m afraid that they’re going to come back in September and tell me they can’t get it and I’ll be SOL.

Last week, I ordered two DVD box sets from Chapters - what the hell, they were 50% off. Futurama arrived Monday, to my delight. Firefly? Temporarily out of stock, but they will be re-ordering more copies.

*sigh* I’m not disappointed or upset with either retailer, because other things I’ve ordered came at nearly lightning speed. Futurama took three days, and Brite’s Drawing Blood (I’ve named my African Violet Natty Boho, after the beer featured in the book) took five. But it just seems like there’s a little grey fog around some of my orders recently.