Photo of the Day: 3 Things I Love About This

Photo credit: @usanetwork via twitter

May 17, 2012
@usanetwork:
Here's @TimDeKay & Matt Bomer doing TalkStoop at the ‪#USAUpfront‬. pic.twitter.com/qqRLrYzV

There are three things I love about this photo. Two are fairly obvious, and one reveals a bit too much about what kind of girl I am, so we'll just let you fill in the blanks on your own.

Somebody's Watching Me ... Watch U(SA)

With apologies to Matt Bomer.
I admire all of your body ... of work.
(Please, people. This is a family site, and he is a family man and a gentleman.)

Most of the time when I'm running around the Upper West Side, I'm doing my own thing, running my errands, heading hither, thither, and yon, minding my business ... as a typical chill New Yorker.

Then something happens and you have to react/document. There was the time in the Post Office when I stopped someone from getting harassed by a pervert -- but that's another post on another blog.

Then there was the evening when I left late, and had to leave from a different exit than my usual. I came around the corner and saw a flurry of activity in front of a neighboring business. Now, things happen in the area all the time. I work for a destination of note in and of itself, not to mention it is part of an arts complex. "We've" seen presidential motorcades, Fashion Week, festivals, film shoots, and film premieres, to name a few, but this one was different.

A cable upfront from the channel I watch all the dang time! USA

I swear, if the cable company looked at the percentage of time my t.v. was on, and to what channel it was tuned, it'd be primarily the character-driven programs and NCIS rerun-heavy USA Network. I didn't want to be too much of a dork, so out my iTouch came (to be "checking for cell coverage" you see) and snapped these on the run. The daylight photos are at one time of the day, and the night shots are from the evening after the upfront.

My boss is pretty lenient on things, but I didn't think I could take a two hour lunch to sit out on the street and watch the red-carpet arrivals. Like with most other major NYC events in recent years, most recently the Shuttle Enterprise "fly-overs," I watched it happen via the Internet, specifically via Twitter feeds.

Actually, it was probably better that way. It was hot and crowded--two of my least favorite things about NYC. And on my screaming scale of measure of what I could hear up in my office, on a scale of 0 to "Holy Cow, it's a Harry Potter Premiere, two-days of rabid fans screaming for hours," it was only about a 2. If you didn't have press creds, you wouldn't have gotten close to the talent, and since I don't wear stilettos, I probably wouldn't have been able to see anybody, I mean, anything. This way of ogling is much better for all concerned. No fear of sudden-onset-stupid-fan ness, no hyperventilating hysteria, more ability to be silly and not embarrass the actors or self, unless.... you happen to mention something to a friend .... more on that in a minute.

Regarding this large poster of Matt Bomer seen throughout, I apologize again to the tech crew person who probably had to clean it off again the night before the event. I may or may not have impulsively "splatted" myself all over it in an embrace, leaving a face print/drool. Also, it truly doesn't do him justice. Why not have it be black and white and blue to show off those baby blues? WHY!?

There was a reenactment of my "splat" the next night when it was all over, which unfortunately? fortunately? was captured by my friend Cynthia.

Whoops, now I'm dizzy from all the silliness.

So, um. Yeah. That happened.

Commuting Views: Strangeness on a Train, Spring 2012

As much as I hate to be *that* person on a train or subway snapping photos of fellow passengers, I've found that sometimes I just *have* to. I've also found that it's much easier to snap photos discretely with my iTouch than pulling out a point-and-shoot. While it's not as sharp as a "real" camera, (see the sunset shot out a train window during a rain storm), it's still better than nothing. Given that my Ms. Ruby Nikon 2.0's screen currently looks like this (see below), my iTouch is better than nothing.

Ms. Ruby Nikon 2.0 is temporarily in isolation on life support until we can take her to a doctor and discuss options. Apparently while she will bounce, internal injuries may or may not be able to be repaired. (When did this happen? Yesterday dang it. "Grace" has struck again.)

Anyway ... so Commuting? Is Colorful. You see all kinds of people on a train.

Artists of all kinds:

Make-up Artists.

Multi-tasking Fiber Artists.
(She's knitting--without looking--while reading her book. That takes talent.)

Pickup Artists, aka Hookers - I mean - Fiber Artists
Grannies making Granny Squares


Then there is the evidence of the Performing Artists
who, having tapped/stomped out their piece,
became Fine Artists when they left their framed work for all to enjoy.

Now, pardon me while I thank H.F. for being the Ultimate Artist --
for sculpting fine laborers for me ravish with mine eyes.

Doesn't he look like he could be a life model for something to be cast in bronze?
How about if you look at it in black and white?

After all the "suits" I see all day, it was refreshing to see one of the many union laborers that keeps the City going and growing. You just know that the muscles and tendons were sculpted in hard labor and not in gym visits to a trainer (not that there's anything wrong with that.)

The Amazing Adventures of The Shushing Librarian - Excuses Excuses Excuses

Hi! My Name is:
The Shushing Librarian

Greetings patrons. How may I assist you today?
The copier? Over there. The bathroom? You need a key. See the clerk.
No, you can NOT leave Jr. here for "a bit." No. I will not waive your fines.

Whoops. Sorry. Wrong mode. I was on auto pilot. This week was rough. Lots of kids hanging out in the library because it was their spring break. I know what you're thinking. Why are they in the library if they are on vacation? Because their parent/guardians do NOT have vacation and think we are a cheap, safe, alternative to child care. Which we are NOT. I repeat. NOT!

Today's post was supposed to be the first of many recapping my get-aways last year. A tour, if you will.

It was supposed to be all about all the FUN I had on vacation.

But frankly, I'm feeling a little crabby. A lot crabby actually.

Crabby and blue.

To throw out a literary reference. You know that pillow of Jo's in Little Women? The one that she used on the couch to signal if she was welcoming company or a chat? If I could have one of those pillows on the display at the reference desk, this would be it, and it would mean

APPROACH WITH CAUTION. CRANKY AND DEPRESSED LIBRARIAN AHEAD!Things have been so rough, I find myself drawn to these types of books instead of Webster's, Bartlett's, Brittannicas, and the For Dummies.If and when I get to escape, I mean, go on coffee runs, I fully intend to pick up a quick dark espresso, butcome back with things like these instead.

One for you. One for me.
Who are we kidding? They are both for me.Did I say stop pouring? Hit me again.

I know, I know.
If I want to manage my stress, I should get another job ....
I mean
Eat right, rest, and get exercise.

I do try. Here's lunch one day.

I even tried to exercise, but I had problems with the equipment being too big or antiquated.Do you know how hard it is to surf in a dress and in a cast that you are not supposed to get wet? Not to mention, there aren't waves in-land? I'm making waves, but you can't surf on them.Sometimes a librarian just has to drown her stresses and cares in tartar sauce and carbs.

A happy librarian is better for everyone.

The unfortunate (or fortunate) side effect of too many carbs, is the carb crash. I have to run behind the building, find a patch of relatively clean concrete, and catch 15 minutes. I say I'm a smoker*, just so I have an excuse to run outside every so often to get my "fix." Don't worry peeps, I'm not smoking. I'm sleeping! And don't worry about me oversleeping out there, I've even bribed one of the pages to come get me after 10 minutes or so, and to be my "excuse person." ("Oh, the S.L.? She's in the stacks with a patron.")

Speaking of excuses, I know I could have spent 15 of those minutes writing this post, but I needed the zzzzzzzzz.Things are so rough, I'm getting distracted by all kinds of things -- like dreaming of winning the lottery, so I could have any car on the lot I wanted. Oh, and to quit. Quitting was the very first thing on the list. You better believe it.

When I go to my adorable, local, historic, organic, and quaint country store,

I get distracted by junk food. The lovely people there have to come and escort me away from the popcorn machine. I guess I get mesmerized or something. I apparently have a tendency to stand there, salivating, in a daze for about 20 minutes. I have been told I scare the other customers.

Frankly, they should be scared. Don't tick off the librarians.

Needless to say, my trip to Sears for parts and service can take an interesting turn sometimes. I won't mention the one instance when I tried to read to the children at the childcare center, but there was the little problem of ... I don't actually work there. Or the time when I forgot to take my microbrews from Cape Cod Beer to the car before I headed into the place that Playskool forgot. (Please note, I am abiding by the restraining order ... I am 500 feet away from the entrance.)

The less I say about what you see here, the better.

I'm soooo soooo ashamed.

As a relief for my stress, and to get some fluids in after the saline overdosing that are not alcoholic, I head down to my other local watering hole. I have to be careful. One of the counter boys is a real jerk.

It's udderly ridiculous in a town this size that I cannot find

some privacy to go quietly insane and deal with the stress in my own special way.It's grinding me down.

One of my other dreams of winning the lottery, besides quitting, getting a new car, is to get some professional help. Yes, some of "that" kind of professional help--but also, some household staff, like a butler

and a private chef.

I'd also like a a private masseuse. Ah Sven. I have knots in my shoulders with your name on it. (Literally. I have tattoos. I *heart* Sven!) And if you notice that there is no picture of the wished-for masseuse included it's because my mental picture of who it might be changes every 2.3 seconds. (Ah, Matt Bomer. Ah, Joe Manganiello. Ah, Ciaran Hinds in Persuasion.) Whoa ..... I gots to stop that!

Let's just say, I know why the caged bird sings .... It's to keep from exploding. It's a stress valve.
In good news, however, the Board has agreed to institute the dog-therapy reading program I have been pushing for. It's good for the kids for their reading skills. It's good for the librarians for their stress levels. Check it out: Library Dogs.All of this is to say, that I'm just too busy to write up a post for Auntie Nettie's blog this week. I'll have to find some time soon to write something.

For now,
This is a wrap.And, that's a wrap.

P.S. I know, I know. It's not punny.
Sorry about all the excuses.
Somewhere along the line, the whining and the entry spiraled out of control.
As you can see, I'm ashamed that it's so bad.I'm obviously no Marcel the Shell.

Please stay tuned for a real installment of
The Amazing Adventures of The Shushing Librarian!

*Excuses by The Shushing Librarian in no way mean that Auntie Nettie, her family, friends, associates, colleagues, acquaintances, readers, patrons, condone or approve of any of the above and aforementioned carcinogenic, alcoholic, carbolic, caffeinated, and caloric methods to deal with stress. Nor do they imbibe or partake in any of the aforementioned and religiously verboten items as alluded to by the plasticine inanimate object.

Gambling, drinking, smoking, lusting, and any other inappropriate patterns of behavior are not suitable for children under the legal age of your country of residence or approved by your religious affiliation of choice.

Auntie Nettie's Attic approves of a sense of humor and reminds you take this with a grain of salt.

Tongue in cheek is obviously included.

Photo of the Day: Men in Kilts

Maker Faire, September 17, 2011

This totally answers one of my questions. However, it raises another couple.
Is it me, or is that the same stance that one might see in say ... the men's room?

Introducing G-Dawg!

As previously discussed in the FAQs, Auntie Nettie has a long standing policy of not posting pictures of herself, hubbie G-Dawg, or our off-spring on this blog. However, I decided to make an exception today.

Today, I'm proud to release a photo of the G-Dawg himself. Or actually, a partial picture of G-Dawg. He would like to remain anonymous, invisible you might say. I, on the other hand, would like to sing his praises! (Click on the links for more information about our wedding and offspring.)

G-Dawg may look like a stuffed shirt, but he's really ever so cuddly. He provides a warm and safe embrace, and a shoulder to lean on. He stays close by when we sleep, but doesn't get his feelings hurt when I push him away in the middle of the night when I need space. He's not a cover hog. When he gets "funky," he doesn't get a 'tude when I tell him he needs a wash. He's the perfect man for me. This is a picture of his better half.

Even though I consider my G-Dawg one-of-a-kind, I understand if you'd like a paragon like this of your very own. If so, you can go here and get one.

And now G-Dawg would like to resume being known as the Invisible Man in Auntie Nettie's Attic!*

*yes, Jane Eyre is my favorite book. How did you know?! He's nothing like Bertha. NOTHING!