Thursday, April 19, 2012

Pink Way of Delight

I walk through this every day on the way to the library.
Which is probably why my sinuses are trying to kill me.
At least it's a pretty way to go.

Friday, April 06, 2012

Speediator's Eventful Day at Work

I brought my camera to work, initially, to photograph the oldest living resident of the supply cabinet. People think that I go into work early so that I can get things done without being interrupted, which is true 85% of the time. But 15% of the time, I'm doing things like photographing old office supplies. Although my coworkers are used to me doing strange things (see later in this post), I did not want to tell anyone, "Look, I'm photographing these hilariously ancient paper reinforcers," and have them answer with, "I bought those personally in 1967, what are you implying?!"

They are high-quality cloth reinforcements, because the library is not a cheapskate. I know, because it's my job to order office supplies now, and I have learned that if you buy the good stuff it works better. This is particularly relevant to super glue (see later in this post).

I still do not understand what "Spee-d-ADA" means. Are we to understand that Ada is speedy? Or will people call you Speediator when you use these labels because you're so fast? Beware, Ada! Rushing things isn't always a good idea. (See later in this post.)

What really stole my heart is how the little matchbox container is designed to look like a tiny book. So library-appropriate. I cannot wait to read Dennison's new thriller, Gummed Reinforcements, published by the US Patent Office. It sure looks like a hoot! (No need to see later in this post, because we are there already.)

Later In This Post

I recently installed signs at the end of each stack in the reference section, so that people can see which call numbers are in it and what subjects they cover. They are very useful. When they stay up. These signs had to have magnets glued to their backs, and because I ran out in the middle, I ended up using two different kinds of glue: Loctite super glue for all the signs on one end, and Scotch super glue on the other. It turned out I was unwittingly performing an experiment, the results of which told me that sign-holder-plastic is not among the "some plastics" that Scotch says it bonds with. You could pop the magnet off with one finger. Which I discovered when two of the signs fell down and broke. So I took them all down with the intention of regluing them with Loctite.

By this point, the trials and errors of this project were beginning to aggravate me deeply. I had already glued nineteen signs, and when I say "glue," that doesn't indicate how I first have to flatten the magnets for a week under old Office Max catalogs and whatever books are sitting on my table waiting to be transferred. (This is what I mean when I say my co-workers are used to me doing strange things. "Gosh, you have so much work!" "Oh no, I'm just flattening magnets.") Plus, the necessary magnets cannot be ordered through our supplier, so I had to keep going and buying them and getting reimbursed. In short, this whole thing, which was my idea in the first place, was a huge pain. So by the time I got to the last four signs, I was sick of the whole thing and rushing through it. Which is when I did this, but with my skin, and my two middle fingers:

Super glue, it bonds quickly. As soon as I thought, "Uh oh," it was already time for "UH OH." Wouldn't you know, we don't keep nail polish remover in the office, and the kind they sell in the campus store is acetone-free. The health service wanted me to make an appointment and see a nurse, which seemed excessive, so one of my coworkers, obviously in a ploy to get another Tardis card, kindly drove me to CVS. On the way we ran into one of my student workers, a Star Trek fan, who pointed out that I could no longer live long and prosper. (It was suggested that super gluing Spock's middle fingers would be a hilarious joke, until we realized he just wouldn't get it.) Another coworker, hoping my situation would soon be resolved, said, "Cross your fingers! Oh wait! You can't!"  HA  HA  HA.

I was in fact amused that I had glued myself together, an event which I think we all know has been a long time coming. Most of the jokes made at my expense that afternoon were my own. But, you would be correct to infer from the fact that I had my camera with me and did not stop to take a picture that the feeling of having your fingers conjoined is mentally, if not physically, uncomfortable. You can't quite stop thinking about how the glue is stronger than your skin, and that if one of them rips it won't be the glue.

Although it took an hour and a half to get the acetone, it worked in about ten minutes, and I was free to return to my gluing project. However, in spite of having the acetone readily at hand, the trauma was too fresh, so I put on latex gloves. (We have latex gloves, and LBJ-era gummed reinforcements, but we don't have acetone. I'm not sure what emergencies we're preparing for.) A couple of people saw the gloves and laughed and said things like, "Better safe than sorry!" To which I would respond, ". . . Yup!" And then, of course, I accidentally glued the gloves together. I was not anticipating photographing that when I got up in the morning.

What this experience taught me, or rather, what the conversation with my coworker taught me, is that there are much worse things you could glue together than two of your fingers. I could've glued my hands together. I could've glued my hand to my face. I could've glued myself to the magnet. Or the sign. Or the table. The Original Super Glue website even has advice for what to do if you glue your lid to your eyeball. Dear god.

Earlier in the day when I found the gummed reinforcements I was looking at the back of it, and I thought, What on earth is Ada so happy about, she's typing on labels all day for Pete's sake. But now I understand. She was enjoying not being glued to anything. It's a good feeling.

Tuesday, April 03, 2012

New Love

Macrauchenia. Want.