Road Trip

I don’t know if I’ve told you this-I love to travel.  I like camping in a tent and got to try an RV last summer…I like that better.  I like staying in hotels but I’d much rather stay with friends.   I like flying; I don’t mind going through security and waiting to board.  The actual flight is fine-but the take-off and landing make me a little nervous.  I haven’t tried travel by boat yet, but motion sickness notwithstanding, I would probably like that also.  Mostly I LOVE road trips; driving there, seeing the country and stopping whenever I want or need.   Stopping at any roadside attraction or truck stop I want.  It probably has to do with every family vacation we took when I was growing up was in the car/VW van and usually involved a tent. 

 ROAD TRIP!!

I’ve gone on lots of road trips, most of them to visit friends and relatives in nearby towns.  Some of them have been big, like to visit family in Chicago and on to Wisconsin to a place called The House on the Rock in Spring Green.  If you’ve never heard of it, check out their website http://www.thehouseontherock.com/.  It is a very interesting place with some odd/cool collections: arms and armor, automated music players (whole rooms that move and play music,) dioramas, dolls, lighters, tiffany lamps, other random stuff and the world’s largest indoor carousel-it really is amazing.

I love exploring the new place, or an old place.  I really like wandering around-seeing how people are in this place.  I am especially interested when I find little interesting places accidentally.  This past weekend Mom and I went to Lexington to visit Paul and Lori and the kids, so I could babysit and Mom could go to Sam’s Club. When we were on our way back, I was driving and needed to get out of the car for a little while-stretch my legs and wake-up some.  So I pulled off in Stanton, they have lots of fast food places.  I was headed back to the BP so I could get a soda or something. And I’m about to pull into the parking lot when I see the place across the road. I don’t remember what it’s called, but they have a deals barn.  We walked through, it’s like a little catch all kind of place-a truck stop for the truckless: tools, furniture, fake flowers, wind chimes, dragon figurines, UK shirts and leather motorcycle chaps-we were standing next to the chaps when Mom said “this would be a good place to do some Christmas shopping.” 

I’m sure she was talking about the UK shirts-right?

My Tattoo advice for a friend

A friend asked me to give advice to one of her friends about getting tattoos.  This is what I told her, with some new stuff and edited to make the advice useful for anyone.

I wanted a tattoo since I was 18.  I chose something simple that will have the same meaning all my life and I waited a long time... about 8 years before I got it.  I don't think you need to wait 8 years.  I think about 6 months would be good-long enough to back out.  You should start with something that has meaning for you- not what you think other people think you should have.

I have 2 rules to follow. 
1. NEVER get a name.  My dad passed a few years ago and I've been thinking about a rose with his initials in it.  Initials are okay. Your children's names are okay. Never ever put your SO or lover's name on your person.  When things fall apart, you will regret it.
2. NEVER get a portrait.  They don't ever look right.

Do some research.  The library has some books with photos and designs for tattoos.  Look on the internet at tattoo images.  Try to stay away from anything too overdone.  It's horrible, seeing your tattoo on a flock of people you don't want to be associated with. Try to stay away from anything on the Tattoo Parlor's wall.
I have 4
1. An Ankh, Egyptian symbol for life.  Back side of my left hip.
2. One I've changed my mind about and am going to cover with the rose for my Dad.
3. A book on my right shoulder-my favorite
4. and an A on the back of my neck.
and I'm planning a 5th-my favorite Tarot card on my left arm-cap sleeve.

I designed all except the 2nd.  You can take in a drawing,  If you can't draw, you can find and print something from the internet then draw on it to make it look the way you want.
Take your time.  That's my big advice.  Ask yourself if this is something you will want to see on yourself 5 years from now.

Placement is important.  Your body is going to change over time, especially if you're a woman and planning to have kids.  We gain weight, stuff sags and your tattoo will stretch.

You want a good safe licensed artist.  Ask people with good tattoos where they got them done.  Get artist recommendations from your friends.  NEVER EVER agree to a free tattoo from a guy in a trailer. 

This is very important-Make sure the place you choose is clean.  If it isn't clean you could end up sick. Like dying sick-I'm talking AIDS and Hepatitis B or C sick.
If you have any questions about anything, let me know.  I could talk about tattoos all day.

Hi, I'm Alita, Part II

My last blog, the one comparing the job hunt to online dating came about from a cover letter that I recently wrote. After finishing it, I realized that my cover letter read like a dating site intro.
Since I found out yesterday that I didn't get the job, I thought I might share that cover letter-redacted-of course.

And it also got me thinking...
Mom says she's sure it was because they already had someone in mind-that might be the case... but I keep thinking. I know they have to post the job and interview at least 2 people. If only there was a way they could tell us when this is the case so I don't get my hopes up.

That said... here is the cover letter, let me know what you think.

Dear Human Resources Manager,
Hello, my name is Alita, I am writing this to let you know that I am interested in the Librarian II position open at the Xxxxxxxx Branch. I like to keep myself busy doing a lot of different everyday jobs. Variety is part of why I love being a librarian; there are so many different things than need to be done: answering questions, writing reports, creating displays, recommending books, talking to people and finding lost mommies to name a few. Every day is different and they are all adventures.
For personal reasons, I moved home to Xxxxx Xxxxxx last year. Since moving back to the area, I have been volunteering for the Xxxxx County Public Library doing whatever the County
Librarian needs done. Lately, I’ve been doing some copy cataloging, shelf reading and weeding. I also get to help at the Circulation Desk.
My last professional position was as the part-time Archives Technician at the
Cincinnati Art Museum, while I enjoyed the history of art in the Cincinnati area, I was also reminded of why I prefer working in public libraries-the people. I like helping people of all
ages find materials to suit their needs, whether it’s for a school project or enjoyment.

In addition to over ten years of reference experience, I have several years’ planning and running programs-mostly for teens and adults, teaching computer classes and troubleshooting computer issues, and preparing reports and statistics. I also have experience supervising and training new hires; one of my former supervisors referred to me as a natural leader. I am very patient and have wonderful customer service skills – I believe in working together to give a great library experience.

If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me.
Sincerely,
Alita

Hi, I'm Alita and I like books, and planning programs... let me be your librarian

I’ve been in the professional job hunt for a couple of years; I’ve been single a lot longer. I
bet you can guess where this is headed. I’ve realized that hunting for a job is way too close to internet dating for my tastes.

You read a description, feel a spark of interest. Write something carefully worded in response and send it. Wait for a response… and wait… and wait. Then after a certain amount of time you hear that they want to meet you or you don’t hear from them till much later after they found someone else.

You pick just the right outfit. You’re nervous so you show up a little early. You’ve brought questions to ask and expect to answer a bunch in return. You spend time with this person-getting to know the front that you show on a first date… trying to be as close to their perfect match as possible while trying to gauge if this is “the one for you.” You spend some time, you say, ”It was nice to meet you,” then part ways. Then you wait to see if they want to see you again.
And wait to see if you found “the one.”

Well, I haven’t decided about the job world yet, but I’m not going to keep putting on “the face” for future dates. I’m going to work at being my charming, funny, curious and sarcastic self. And I’m not going to keep seeing someone just because they seem to be interested in me. I’ve got varied interests, so we should be able to find something to talk about.

And just an FYI, if you don’t like Star Wars and Doctor Who, you won’t make the cut.

I don't interview well. I get nervous and blank out on the examples they want. Maybe I should stop trying to be what I think they are looking for and be what I really am: a librarian in need of a library...with a lot of quiet enthusiasm and a good sense of humor about life.

Death of a House

I’ve lived in a handful of places during my life. Some have been apartments alone or with others some have been houses. This is about my homes with my family.

The first was a nice sized brick house in the Germantown area of Louisville. It was an old house, dating back to the late 1800s, I think. My room (that I shared with my sister) had big cabbage roses on the peeling wallpaper… that I peeled and colored on. It also had a Dining Room with French doors-I love French doors.
Of course, with four rambunctious (read that as evil and destructive) kids, my parents left the French doors off… I can now say that was a wise choice since I’m the one that broke the living room window with a little help from Paul. This is also the house with the laundry chute that the babysitter got stuck in with help from Paul. I have occasionally daydreamed about buying that house back, but now I never will because it isn’t the same place.

The second one was the house we got when we moved to Eastern Kentucky. Even though we only lived in that house for a year and a few months, I have a bunch of memories from there. The front room used to be the two car garage that the previous owners carpeted and put in a sliding door. Nice big room… great for a teenage girl to do aerobics in-not much warning when people were coming to visit though and those glass doors didn’t help.

Then after some financial troubles, we moved into the house owned by the Coal Company. The house was built room by room by one man; his name was John. It started as the Kitchen, Living room, family room and bedroom (really it was the Dining Room.) By the time we moved in, there was just enough room for the six of us. This is the home I lived in when I bought my first car. This is where I got snowed-in with my Mom. This is the home I went to when my Dad died. The Christmas after, Mom, Joan and I went up the hill behind the house and got a tree, and then we all got drunk and “decorated” it. Then I moved home to teach my Mom how to drive and get ready to go back to school. And this is the house we killed.

Let me explain… We lived in that house about 7 years before my Dad died. When the Coal Company heard of his passing, they called my Mom and told her she could live there rent free as long as she wanted and as long as they didn’t need the land. A few years ago, Mom decided it was time to move and when she did, the Coal Company decided they were going to tear down the house.

Since the house was coming down, we could do whatever we wanted. We moved all Moms’ stuff. We got anything we wanted out. Then we built a gigantic bonfire in our usual fire pit. We burned anything we could. Old clothes that we couldn’t give away (I think we tried to sneak some of Mom’s wind suits into the fire,) paper, falling apart furniture, and dying stuffed animals. The whole scene reminds me of Bevis and Butthead sitting there snickering “he he fire, fire….he he FIRE aaaaaaaaaaaa he he” even now, I smile at the memory of adding the oversized black and white teddy bear to the fire-seriously, it was about the size of a pro linebacker. The crotch burned first and when it split open the Styrofoam BBs came spilling out in a rush like a waterfall that splashed into melting plastic-it was awesome and cathartic.

I rescued the Dick Tracy Figurine mug (still in the box) that I had given to my Dad for Christmas one year. Then some of us spent time hitting golf balls in the General direction of the house… to break out the windows-I missed that part. I can’t swing a club to save my life so I probably would have thrown them like baseballs.

Now, I live about a mile from where that house was. I haven’t been back there because I know it isn’t there-it’s in my head.

Hello Ants, I have come to kill you.

It started last year when I moved back to my mom’s house; my war with the ants. I HATE ANTS! Crawling on stuff marching up walls- Blech. I end up imagining them walking on me…

They aren’t all over the house, just in the kitchen and the bathroom. I understand that they are God’s (take your pick-I like the idea of a Higher Power but don’t have one picked out) creatures and have a right to their lives. And they do, as long as they stay outside I have no problem. But as soon as they cross the threshold into the house they are mine!

These are smart ants. We put down fresh traps, and they walk around them. Being the librarian I am, I looked up natural remedies. I found a book full of home remedies that said ants can’t swim in soapy water. So I started wiping them up with a sponge full of soapy water-suffocating them.

All summer… as soon as I saw the line of ants climbing up the side of the fridge to whatever it is they found at the top, walking along the edge of the sink for absolutely no reason-Mom and I do not eat in the bathroom and I hope Joe doesn’t. I would go get the sponge and kill the ants. The book also said I should follow the ants back to their point of entry. One of their points of entry is a crack next to the kitchen window (I just found it.) The crack is just large enough for the ants, but not large enough for the crack filler.

We’ve had a blissfully ant free winter until last week. Torrential rains (the same storms that did so much damage all across Kentucky and other parts) drove the ants inside; into Mom’s kitchen and bath. I was here… there was much cussing and sponge use.

*I would like to take a little time to say how sorry I am for all the people who lost their homes and loved ones. I am a very sensitive person about some things; as soon as I hear the individual stories like the little girl from Indiana who was found in a field and taken to Kosair Children’s Hospital and the elderly woman who got stuck in a closet- who both died-I end up crying even though I didn’t know them. I know my ants are nothing compared to not having a home in which to battle the ants or a mom to share the battle.*

I am trying to take a philosophical approach to killing the ants. Like, I’ll go for hours without thinking about the ants, then I’ll see one in the kitchen or I walk into the bathroom and there’s 10 on the sink… that’s when I’m all, “Hello ants, I have come to kill you.” I have been squishing them then washing them down the drain to add insult to injury. Day before yesterday I walk into the bathroom and there is a big army of ants walking the wall edge of the bathtub. I grab my leave-in conditioner and spray it at them, just for kicks. And they stop moving. All of them are dead on contact…Who knew.

I wonder what the conditioner does to my hair.

We also got some yard pellet sprinkle, get it wet, let it dry yard stuff that the cats have to stay away from till it’s dry. I hate ants.

FYI I asked Mom if I could quit my job to pursue my writing career... She said no.

Stars and Kites

Not too long ago I went to a funeral for a friend. Our priest mentioned more than once that Maria was a “shining star.”

That night I remembered to look up. I spent some time looking at those stars that wink and shine. I didn’t spend much time looking at stars in Cincinnati; too many things in the way (like lights and buildings.) I always forget how calming gazing at stars can be. While I appreciate the complement paid to my friend, I don't think it is quite right.

Maria was many things, calming was not one of them. She was funny, elegant and welcoming. She could see the beauty in the plain and as a Mary Kay representative, she could show you how to enhance what God gave you and sell you the makeup to do it. She was always happy to see everyone. Always a smile. Always an inspiration.

For the last few years of her life, Maria had been wheelchair bound. She had ALS. I don’t know much about the disease but I do know it takes away your motor function. Everything becomes a struggle-EVERYTHING.

I feel sad at Maria’s passing, but she had been sick for a long time. Maria will always be a vibrant and graceful person in my memories. Now she isn't confined to the wheelchair or the body that won't cooperate.

So really, she’s not a star, she’s a kite- a bright red kite dancing on the wind and she has flown off to another place where she can brighten other skies.

And now for a tangent, just because I can: right now it is Girl Scout Cookie time, my favorite is the shortbread. Shortbread is one of the types of cookies my family used to bake at Christmas time. We had cutters for shapes and iced them-red hearts, yellow stars, blue bells and green diamonds (they kind of look like kites. ) Writing about stars made me think of the cookies. And Maria would have appreciated that.