confessions of a southside catatonic chataholic

"As Maori...

2012-01-21T12:36:00.009+13:00

...be an advocate for Maori"
~ Te Roopu Whakahau hui-a-tau korero, January 2012

Tena koutou. I've spent the last three and a half days at Auckland University's Waipapa Marae with some 70+ Maori who work in libraries and/or information management. Once a year we come together, from all around New Zealand, to discuss, debate and challenge each others' ideas and initiatives. Mostly, I try to avoid our hui-a-tau as much as possible because I'm not much of a one for communal living. It's intense, you're on top of each other for 3-4 days with nowhere to just disappear and collect yourself, and it's a huge overload on my social skills. Give me a keyboard and I'll rattle on until your eyes bleed. Put me in the hot seat and ask me to talk about myself in front of the group and I go into meltdown. I'll wait till no one's looking and then sneak out the door. Also, it's extremely hard to be my usual non-committal self when people start to expect things of me. This year, though, this year was different. This year it was great for a number of reasons, although I'm going to list a few that have meaning for me.

Reasons to attend the hui-a-tau:

Strengthen and reaffirm our identity - a lot of our members are isolated from other Maori (I'd like to point out that I'm not, but I understand how incredibly important this is for so many of us) and sometimes, no matter how great the intent of various organisations and employers, we truly need that contact with each other. For a lot of us, it's the equivalent of a cultural check-in because sometimes (not always) we walk a fine line in trying to be true to our cultural ethics and values, and in trying to be true to our employers. Life being what it is, quite often they clash or they cause us to question, 'Is this tika?' or 'Does this sit right?' and even 'Does this FEEL right?' and, every now and then, 'Why do I feel so conflicted about this issue/project/etc. and what power do I have to change that?' Cultural compromise is a real concern.

Whakawhanaungatanga - networking. Except with Maori there's another layer. We're not just making links to make links, or with an eye to knowing how we can utilise a particular person's skills. It's more about making an honest-to-goshness connection that is about family, or tupuna that we may have in common and, in some way, it is about being claimed by an iwi or a rohe and finding some sense of turangawaewae

Shared history - there's this huge sense of freedom in being able to get together and talk about topics that would elicit strange looks in a world that is predominantly non-Maori, where words like 'ahua' and 'wairua' and 'ihi' and 'tapu' and 'mauri' don't need to be explained, and where we are aware of the concept and whakaaro behind the words, and not just their surface English equivalent

To inspire and to be inspired - for the first time ever I really felt that we were having digital discussions the likes of which we'd never had before and, as a result, I have had the most amazingly animated korero (some quite provocative, too) about Maori in digital spaces and I have a head full of ideas that I want to take back to work and find some way of using there

To ask questions and to be questioned - all sorts of questions about all sorts of things. Out of all of the questions I was asked, though, the one that caught me by surprise was, "Do people actually read blogs?" In my complacency, I had assumed that anyone who wasn't anti-internet read at least one blog. So instead I tempered my instinctive OMG YES! response to: Yes. People do. But if you're going to do it, do it well, and talk about it everywhere you go and with everyone you meet. If it's worth the time and effort to write to, then it needs to be promoted and talked about. The idea that the kumara never speaks of how sweet it is does not apply here

Removing barriers - I read a book about Maori leadership (A fire in your belly: Māori leaders speak by Paul Diamond) that one of our members had written and I was able to tell him how much I appreciated his style, the people he interviewed, how he made me view people (and my ideas of what constitutes a Maori leader) differently and, even better, enjoyed how he was able to (on the spot, I might add) add meaning to that by telling me a little bit behind the reason for the interview I liked the most

Having your ideas challenged - Someone said to me, 'Reading blogs is a generational thing' and it stopped me in my tracks. I was flummoxed for a few seconds. Then my tongue caught up with my brain and I offered my ten cents worth: I disagree. Blogs are a people thing. Blogs are an interest thing. Blogs are an awareness thing. My gran is 78 (I think?) and she reads my blog. Very possibly because I'm her mokopuna and, out of the eight of us, I'm the most visible and loudmouthed and findable both online and offline. But she reads it. My mum reads blogs. My dad read my blog while I was wandering around New Orleans/Memphis (admittedly he's never read it since, but he plans to when I'm away again next month). My colleagues read blogs. My nephew reads blogs. Depending on the subject, style and content of your blog, people will read it. There's no accounting for taste. (Facetious comment). What is a blog but another website? Ok, so more like an editorial, but you get what I mean. The comment did give me food for thought, though.

Korero - People share the most amazing life stories on a marae. Something about eating/sleeping in such close confines makes you relax around each other. One of my colleagues shared how, when she was six years old, she went to a native school. I had never had anybody tell me that before. She also spoke of a trip to Scotland to visit whanau and how, on leaving, she couldn't stop crying because she was grieving. She'd experienced such a sense of belonging, of turangawaewae that it felt like she was leaving home all over again. I spent more than a few moments rapidly blinking away tears. Stories like this, our experiences of being Maori, need to be captured. In three parts, even, and I'd love to see this as a research project (an oral one, perhaps, much like Whaea Taina's one): our individual experiences of growing up Maori (because this is, surely, a huge part of our journey towards working in libraries/information management), what led us to libraries/information management, and lastly, what Te Roopu Whakahau means to us (our place in it, our hopes and expectations of ourselves, of each other and of the group now, in 5 years, in 10 years)
I could go on and on and, odinarily I would, but not today because I'm kinda sleepy. Instead I'm going to list a few things I'm going to take away from this hui-a-tau:

your services can be held anywhere (courtesy of Tania, Terrisa, Aurelia, Haneta and Carol - who know this, because they're living it in Christchurch, and whose lives have changed beyond anything I could ever comprehend and I deeply appreciate the stories they shared with us)

in the wake of a national disaster your outreach needs to change and adapt accordingly because...

it is still possible to be committed to keeping your same levels of service, just in new ways (courtesy of Tania, Terrisa, Aurelia, Haneta and Carol)

have fewer face to face meetings - try chat, or Skype. It's free and cost-effective (courtesy of @ranginui who had the room in stitches and asking questions I'd never heard any of them ask before. FTW! Unfortunately I had to duck out of the room and missed a lot of this korero but OH! I'm looking forward to any ideas or korero that Chris has/will have)

Lolcats in your presentation makes Maori almost fall off their chairs laughing (truly, madly, deeply)

find Maori in libraries/information management with digital interests. We are few and far between. Or are we? Have we just not discovered each other yet? Do we need to promote Te Roopu Whakahau further? Wider? More pro-actively? In new ways? Bring them in, give them a reason to join, foster their interests. Naku te rourou... (courtesy of presentation by @ranginui, and discussion with @ranginui, @Pikiora and @librarykris)

find your story (courtesy of @MrMikeMcRoberts who, by the way, smells nice and is most charming and a very funny speaker and I could not thank him enough in a month of Sundays for agreeing to speak to our very rowdy bunch)

have a strategy (courtesy of @MrMikeMcRoberts

have a backup plan (courtesy of @MrMikeMcRoberts

that being Maori can open some amazing doors (courtesy of @MrMikeMcRoberts

to ask myself, during each presentation: "What moment from this presentation resonated with you?" And use it to capture one idea to use at work (courtesy of @librarykris who said it out loud on Thursday morning and @sallyheroes who has been telling me this for years and I've never listened *sigh*)

Where to from here? The world, whanau, the world. On a smaller scale, I'll start with incorporating the above both personally and professionally. On a somewhat wider scale, I'd like to suggest that the group look at having a digital strategy, because the time for biscuit is upon us!

"A man ought to read just as inclination leads him...

2012-01-07T21:05:00.003+13:00

...for what he reads as a task will do him little good."
~ Samuel Johnson

If you're not interested in books then you're shit out of luck for this post because that's all this is: my to-be-read list for this year. As it stands at the moment, anyway. Truth be told, I'm quite disappointed there are only 22 titles listed so far. No doubt I'll be adding to it as the days/weeks/months go by. My 'one word' is ensuring that my reading choices are a lot more varied than they've been in a few years. A few months ago this might have disturbed me. This year? I'm not just liking it, I'm looking forward to it. A few of the titles are 2010, maybe a couple are earlier (Wuthering Heights, a re-read for an online initiative I'm participating in, and The slap, because I'd just read What I did and wanted to know why people keep saying one is like the other), but the rest are published this year. Someone asked me the other day where I find a lot of 'what do I read next?' ideas. The answer to that is, well, all sorts of places: Twitter, Facebook, conversations with customers/colleages, newspapers, magazines, RSS feeds (largest number from other bookloving bloggers), sides of buses (seriously), author recommendations, meetings, nephews, siblings, parents... Everywhere, everything, everyone has the potential to give me book ideas. I just have to be paying attention.

Titles I've recommended the library purchase:
Telegraph Avenue by Michael Chabon
Don't let me go by J.H. Trumble

Adult fiction:
Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë (re-read)
The Twelve by Justin Cronin

The chemistry of tears by Peter Carey - When Catherine's lover dies suddenly, she has no-one to turn to - their affair had been disguised from their colleagues and his family - except her work. A middle-aged curator in a London museum, Catherine is given a very particular project by the perceptive head of her department: a box of intricate clockwork parts that appear to be the remains of a nineteenth century automaton - a beautifully made mechanical bird. When she discovers that the box also contains the diary of the man who commissioned the machine, she is partially rescued from one obsession by another - who were Henry Brandling and the mysterious, visionary clockmaker he hired to make a gift for his absent son? And what was the end result that now sits in pieces in her studio?

In one person by John Irving - His most political novel since The Cider House Rules and A Prayer for Owen Meany, John Irving’s In One Person is an intimate and unforgettable portrait of the solitariness of a bisexual man who is dedicated to making himself "worthwhile."

The beginner's goodbye by Anne Tyler - Anne Tyler gives us a wise, haunting, and deeply moving new novel in which she explores how a middle-aged man, ripped apart by the death of his wife, is gradually restored by her frequent appearances--in their house, on the roadway, in the market. Crippled in his right arm and leg, Aaron has spent his childhood fending off a sister who wants to manage him. So when he meets Dorothy, a plain, outspoken, independent young woman, she is like a breath of fresh air. Unhesitatingly, he marries her, and they have a relatively happy, unremarkable marriage. But when a tree crashes into their house and Dorothy is killed, Aaron feels as though he has been erased forever. Only Dorothy's unexpected appearances from the dead help him to live in the moment and to find some peace. Gradually he discovers, as he works in the family's vanity-publishing business, turning out titles that presume to guide beginners through the trials of life, that maybe for this beginner there is a way of saying goodbye. A beautiful, subtle exploration of loss and recovery, pierced throughout with Anne Tyler's humor, wisdom, and always penetrating look at human foibles

The slap by Christos Tsiolkas - At a suburban barbecue, a man slaps a child who is not his own. This event has a shocking ricochet effect on a group of people, mostly friends, who are directly or indirectly influenced by the event. In this remarkable novel, Christos Tsiolkas turns his unflinching and all-seeing eye onto that which connects us all: the modern family and domestic life in the twenty-first century. The Slap is told from the points of view of eight people who were present at the barbecue. The slap and its consequences force them all to question their own families and the way they live, their expectations, beliefs and desires. What unfolds is a powerful, haunting novel about love, sex and marriage, parenting and children, and the fury and intensity - all the passions and conflicting beliefs - that family can arouse. In its clear-eyed and forensic dissection of the ever-growing middle class and its aspirations and fears, The Slap is also a poignant, provocative novel about the nature of loyalty and happiness, compromise and truth

The flame alphabet by Ben Marcus - In The Flame Alphabet, the most maniacally gifted writer of our generation delivers a work of heartbreak and horror, a novel about how far we will go, and the sorrows we will endure, in order to protect our families. A terrible epidemic has struck the country and the sound of children's speech has become lethal. Radio transmissions from strange sources indicate that people are going into hiding. All Sam and Claire need to do is look around the neighborhood: In the park, parents wither beneath the powerful screams of their children. At night, suburban side streets become routes of shameful escape for fathers trying to get outside the radius of affliction. With Claire nearing collapse, it seems their only means of survival is to flee from their daughter, Esther, who laughs at her parents' sickness, unaware that in just a few years she, too, will be susceptible to the language toxicity. But Sam and Claire find it isn't so easy to leave the daughter they still love, even as they waste away from her malevolent speech. On the eve of their departure, Claire mysteriously disappears, and Sam, determined to find a cure for this new toxic language, presses on alone into a world beyond recognition. The Flame Alphabet invites the question: What is left of civilization when we lose the ability to communicate with those we love? Both morally engaged and wickedly entertaining, a gripping page-turner as strange as it is moving, this intellectual horror story ensures Ben Marcus's position in the first rank of American novelists.

The chalk girl by Carol O'Connell - Crime fiction. Before Lisbeth Salander, there was Kathy Mallory. The astonishing new Mallory novel from the New York Times-bestselling author. The little girl appeared in Central Park: red-haired, blue-eyed, smiling, perfect-except for the blood on her shoulder. It fell from the sky, she said, while she was looking for her uncle, who turned into a tree. Poor child, people thought. And then they found the body in the tree. For Mallory, newly returned to the Special Crimes Unit after three months' lost time, there is something about the girl that she understands. Mallory is damaged, they say, but she can tell a kindred spirit. And this one will lead her to a story of extraordinary crimes: murders stretching back fifteen years, blackmail and complicity and a particular cruelty that only someone with Mallory's history could fully recognize. In the next few weeks, she will deal with them... all in her own way.

Graphic novel:
The influencing machine [graphic novel] : Brooke Gladstone on the media text by Brooke Gladstone ; illustrated by Josh Neufeld ; with additional penciling by Randy Jones and Susann Ferris-Jones - Nearly one million weekly listeners trust NPR's Brooke Gladstone to guide them through the distortions and complexities of the modern media. This brilliant radio personality now bursts onto the page as an illustrated character in vivid comics drawn by acclaimed artist Josh Neufeld. The cartoon of Brooke conducts the reader through two millennia of history - from the newspapers in Caesar's Rome to the penny press of the American Revolution and the manipulations of contemporary journalism. Gladstone's manifesto debunks the notion that "The Media" is an external force, outside of our control, since we've begun directly constructing, filtering, and responding to what we watch and read. With fascinating digressions, sobering anecdotes, and brave analytical wit, The Influencing Machine equips us to be smart, savvy, informed consumers and shapers of the media. It shows that we have met the media and it is us. So now what?

Drawing from memory by Allen Say - Caldecott Medalist Allen Say presents his story in a pictorial autobiography from his early beginnings to the renowned artist he is today. "Shunned by his father, who didn't understand his son's artistic leanings, Allen was embraced by Noro Shinpei, Japan's leading cartoonist and the man he came to love as his "spiritual father."

Nonfiction:
Little old lady recipes : comfort food and kitchen table wisdom by Meg Favreau - Celebrity chefs? Immersion blenders? Who needs 'em?!? Little Old Lady Recipes honors the extraordinary women who create potluck dinners, church socials, and the best desserts you've ever tasted. Every page features their simple, no-frills recipes for pot roast, meat loaf, dumplings, corn bread, fried chicken, bundt cake, and other old-time favorites-along with gorgeous photography of the chefs and generous portions of kitchen table wisdom. ("Butter comes from a cow. Tell me where the heck margarine comes from, and then maybe I'll eat it!") So ditch the food processor, stop wasting money on overpriced organic frozen dinners, and start enjoying the classic dishes that our aunties and grandmothers have made for generations!

It chooses you by Miranda July ; with photographs by Brigitte Sire - In the summer of 2009, Miranda July was struggling to finish writing the screenplay for her much-anticipated second film. During her increasingly long lunch breaks, she began to obsessively read the PennySaver, the iconic classifieds booklet that reached everywhere and seemed to come from nowhere. Who was the person selling the “Large leather Jacket, $10”? It seemed important to find out—or at least it was a great distraction from the screenplay. Accompanied by photographer Brigitte Sire, July crisscrossed Los Angeles to meet a random selection of PennySaver sellers, glimpsing thirteen surprisingly moving and profoundly specific realities, along the way shaping her film, and herself, in unexpected ways. Elegantly blending narrative, interviews, and photographs with July’s off-kilter honesty and deadpan humor, this is a story of procrastination and inspiration, isolation and connection, and grabbing hold of the invisible world.

Let's Pretend This Never Happened: (A Mostly True Memoir) by Jenny Lawson - For fans of Tina Fey and David Sedaris--Internet star Jenny Lawson, aka The Bloggess, makes her literary debut. Jenny Lawson realized that the most mortifying moments of our lives--the ones we'd like to pretend never happened--are in fact the ones that define us. In Let's Pretend This Never Happened , Lawson takes readers on a hilarious journey recalling her bizarre upbringing in rural Texas, her devastatingly awkward high school years, and her relationship with her long-suffering husband, Victor. Chapters include: "Stanley the Magical, Talking Squirrel"; "A Series of Angry Post-It Notes to My Husband"; "My Vagina Is Fine. Thanks for Asking"; "And Then I Snuck a Dead Cuban Alligator on an Airplane."

Forgotten bookmarks : a bookseller's collection of odd things lost between the pages by Michael Popek - It's happened to all of us: we're reading a book, something interrupts us, and we grab the closest thing at hand to mark our spot. It could be a train ticket, a letter, an advertisement, a photograph, or a four-leaf clover. Eventually the book finds its way into the world-a library, a flea market, other people's bookshelves, or to a used bookstore. But what becomes of those forgotten bookmarks? What stories could they tell? By day, Michael Popek works in his family's used bookstore. By night, he's the voyeuristic force behind www.forgottenbookmarks.com, where he shares the weird objects he has found among the stacks at his store. Forgotten Bookmarks is a scrapbook of Popek's most interesting finds. Sure, there are actual bookmarks, but there are also pictures and ticket stubs, old recipes and notes, valentines, unsent letters, four-leaf clovers, and various sordid, heartbreaking, and bizarre keepsakes. Together this collection of lost treasures offers a glimpse into other readers' lives that they never intended for us to see.

Corporations don't tweet, people do : a managers guide to the social Web by Euan Semple - Practical advice for managers on how the Web and social media can help them to do their jobs better Today's managers are faced with an increasing use of the Web and social platforms by their staff, their customers, and their competitors, but most aren't sure quite what to do about it or how it all relates to them. Organizations Don't Tweet, People Do provides managers in all sorts of organizations, from governments to multinationals, with practical advice, insight and inspiration on how the Web and social tools can help them to do their jobs better. From strategy to corporate communication, team building to customer relations, this uniquely people-centric guide to social media in the workplace offers managers, at all levels, valuable insights into the networked world as it applies to their challenges as managers, and it outlines practical things they can do to make social media integral to the tone and tenor of their departments or organizational cultures. A long-overdue guide to social media that talks directly to people in the real world in which they work Grounded in the author's unparalleled experience consulting on social media, it features eye-opening accounts from some of the world's most successful and powerful organizations Gives managers at all levels and in every type of organization the context and the confidence to make better decisions about the social web and its impact on them.

Wreck the Halls: Cake Wrecks Gets Festive by Jen Yates - From thankless Thanksgiving turkeys and confusing Christmas conundrums, to less-than-happy Hanukkah horrors and New Year's meltdowns, "Wreck the Halls" has an icing-smeared disaster for every occasion.

Teen fiction:
The fault in our stars by John Green - Despite the tumor-shrinking medical miracle that has bought her a few years, Hazel has never been anything but terminal, her final chapter inscribed upon diagnosis. But when a gorgeous plot twist named Augustus Waters suddenly appears at Cancer Kid Support Group, Hazel’s story is about to be completely rewritten. Insightful, bold, irreverent, and raw, The Fault in Our Stars is award-winning author John Green’s most ambitious and heartbreaking work yet, brilliantly exploring the funny, thrilling, and tragic business of being alive and in love.

The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer by Michelle Hodkin - Seventeen-year-old Mara cannot remember the accident that took the lives of three of her friends but, after moving from Rhode Island to Florida, finding love with Noah, and more deaths, she realizes uncovering something buried in her memory might save her family and her future.

Cinder by Marissa Meyer - Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth’s fate hinges on one girl. . .Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She’s a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister’s illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai’s, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world’s future.

Insurgent by Veronica Roth - One choice can transform you—or it can destroy you. But every choice has consequences, and as unrest surges in the factions all around her, Tris Prior must continue trying to save those she loves—and herself—while grappling with haunting questions of grief and forgiveness, identity and loyalty, politics and love. Tris's initiation day should have been marked by celebration and victory with her chosen faction; instead, the day ended with unspeakable horrors. War now looms as conflict between the factions and their ideologies grows. And in times of war, sides must be chosen, secrets will emerge, and choices will become even more irrevocable—and even more powerful. Transformed by her own decisions but also by haunting grief and guilt, radical new discoveries, and shifting relationships, Tris must fully embrace her Divergence, even if she does not know what she may lose by doing so.

"I try to leave out the parts...

2012-01-04T21:11:00.006+13:00

...that people skip."
~ Elmore Leonard

If you could choose ONE word to live by this year, what would it be?

I've been absent for ages because 1) I'm lazy and 2) I don't feel I have the same almost-anonymity I want/thought I had and so I can't just go BURBLEBURBLEBURBLE about stuff. So, no posts about work. Except general stuff. When I blog about work...work gets nervous :P Although you (the invisible YOU) all know that nobody reads my blog. It is one voice among so many and is really just a place for me to talk about, well, not very much. Interesting to me, and that's about it. People have more interesting things to do. Don't you people? Doesn't mean I won't blog about libraries ever again, though. Just not specifically about mine. Meh. Enough about that. Let's get on to my non-resolution for 2012: one word.

I don't do New Year resolutions. That way, of purposefully setting myself up to fail year after year, lies madness. Instead, I've decided that I'm going to choose one word to live by for this year, a concept that I came across at SheLovesMagazine.com.

So, one word for 2012. The idea for this came up in one of my RSS feeds in a post by Idelette McVicker, which is a part of the One Word 365 initiative. The idea is to choose one word that will underpin everything you are, everything you want to do, everything you want to be, everything you would like to achieve this year. Depending on how deeply I live it (and I'm not certain how well I can but I'm game to give it a go), I expect it'll also shape how I talk to people and how I respond to what I'm told. Oh. I envision fun times ahead *wry laugh* I'm scaring myself already. My word is OPEN, as in open mind, open heart, open hands, open eyes, open door. It means not automatically scoffing at everything I see and hear. It means not discounting people, ideas, thoughts out of hand. It means sometimes going by faith a little more than usual. It means trusting others. It means I'm going to have to talk a little less, and listen a whole heap more. Here's to being open!

If you could choose ONE word to live by this year, what would it be?

"Without music...

2011-10-26T21:00:00.000+13:00

...life would be a mistake."
~ Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

In which Tosca blathers on about 4 covers of Massive Attack's 'Teardrop' that she now cannot live without. Or something like that. And I know, it's Wednesday and this should be a work-reflective post but thanks to the long weekend I'm a day behind everybody. (Which is a common occurrence even when there's no long weekend, let's face it).

I was watching an episode of something-or-other the other day (at the time it seemed absolutely vital that I watch the show but for the life of me I can't remember why) when I heard Newton Faulkner's cover of Massive Attack's Teardrop and was surprised by how much I liked the different sound - laid back, acoustic and quite soulful sounding. It took me back to being in my early 20s when a good friend introduced me to groups like Massive Attack, Apollo 440 and Faithless. I think I thanked him but I can't remember. So if I didn't: Thank you, Zi. I was more into ska and classic rock so this was something outside of that altogether. The first time I heard Teardrop I loved it, even though the video clip freaked me out, I mean, a singing foetus? Really? I thought it ranked somewhere this side of macabre with a whole side order of creepy. But something about that song... Something about it stayed in my head for years. Add to that Elizabeth Fraser's light as feather vocals and I guess I was never going to be able to forget that track.

The song is off Massive Attack's 1998 album Mezzanine and Massive Attack, some of you may remember, are the trip hop duo from Bristol who carved it up - are carving it up still, I believe - right from the word GO in the early 90s. I was kind of impressed to see we have a copy of their debut album, Blue lines, in our collections but really Mezzanine is what I remember them for the most. To this day, though, I'm still not sure what the lyrics are exactly. I've seen quite a few intensely earnest online discussions over whether or not Fraser is singing 'Fearless on my breath' or 'Feathers on my breath.' Either lyric would be equally (and eerily) as appropriate and fitting. There's also a lot of discussion as to whether the song is about birth, abortion or Jeff Buckley's death. At the end of the day maybe it isn't important. Maybe the meaning of the song, regardless of what the performer intended, is up to each listener. It got me wondering though: 1) just how many covers are there and 2) would I like any of them? I decided to track down the version I'd just heard (he features here at #2) and see what YouTube could offer me by following links. My answers were: 1) far too many to count and 2) yes, I did, and I'm thankful I looked. So, here you go, 4 covers of Massive Attack's Teardrop I found by happy accident on YouTube that I now cannot live without. Ain't it funny how life works out that way, sometimes.

1. Teardrop by Massive Attack featuring Martina Topley Bird - YouTube clip is a live performance on KCRW's Morning becomes eclectic
Martina Topley Bird is a British singer/songwriter whose vocals came to the world's attention when she featured in trip hop artist Tricky's critically acclaimed debut album Maxinquaye. Her vocals give this song an almost Indian sound that is still manages to keep it sounding quite fey. This is, by far, my favourite cover.

2. Teardrop by Newton Faulkner from the album Hand built by robots - YouTube clip is
Faulkner is an English singer/songwriter (who was born in 1985, making me feel super old) who has supported musicians such as James Morrison, Paolo Nutini (I *adore* Nutini's voice), John Mayer and The John Butler Trio (who I've seen live and wow they're awesome). Newton Faulkner's voice is like whoa. I first heard his version of 'Teardrop' on a television episode of something-or-other that absolutely escapes me. All I remember is his voice and its simple, stripped back sound and this thing he does where he taps the body of his guitar with his hand. I've had his album Hand built by robots on repeat for the last two days and it's infectious.

3. Teardrop by Elbow. Elbow are an English rock band who have been together since roughly 1990. Their name, weirdly, was inspired by Philip Marlowe - a character from The Singing Detective - saying that the word 'elbow' (the way we say it, not what it is) is the most sensuous word in the English language. If you've never heard them you're in for a treat because lead singer Guy Garvey's vocals? Wow.

Teardrop by Margot MacDonald - YouTube clip is a live performance
Margot MacDonald's singing career began with the Washington National Opera when she was 10. Since then, Margot has won numerous Washington Area Music Association awards (WAMA). As well as vocals, MacDonald plays guitar, experiments with a loop pedal (as you'll see in this clip) and bottles (which you won't see in this clip) but which I'd really like to see because...what does it MEAN exactly? What does it look like? WHAT?

And the original.

'Comic books are a way for people to get away from the real world...

2011-10-25T21:55:00.019+13:00

...They don’t want to be reminded of wars or tragedies or economic catastrophes."
~ Mark D. White

In which Tosca discovers that her graphic novel reading experiences to date have been mere dabbling. Now, finally, she has an inkling of why people enjoy them so much. Can she got a w00t!

Sometimes, yes, I read graphic novels as a form of escapism, but just recently I've found that I read them to deliberately think about wars and tragedies and governments and ethics and other deep issues. I've since come to the conclusion that before October I merely 'dabbled in comics.' I had spent a fair bit of time trying to find authors, artists, styles, storylines and characters that I liked. Often, it was hit and miss. I'd like one of a part of a series but not the rest. Or I'd like a couple of titles people would recommend and turn my nose up at the rest. Then, earlier this month, I randomly picked up a Warren Ellis book in his The Authority series, and something clicked. Everything fell into place. It all made sense. And I haven't looked back since. If anything I've read 27 other titles/authors/artists/series in the last fortnight and am still waiting for more to arrive. So, thank you Monsieur Ellis.

This is a quick-ish post to say yes, I'm reading books, still. And lots of them. Only not romance novels, like I usually do, but graphic novels (3 in particular I've listed here) and a book that I had thought I would include in my romance enewsletter (maybe) and then saw the cover and went, 'OH. Oh. Eek. Nice nails.'

Honourable mention: Surrender to fire by Lora Leigh. I received an email alert that it was available for pickup and blithely popped on down to the library and found that I had to collect it from the front desk where it was being held away from prying eyes. The cover is...well, unambiguous, heh. Click on the link and you'll see what I mean. I can't even remember what romance enewsletter theme I was considering. I just remember seeing it on a list somewhere on the interwebs and thought it sounded like it would do. It may still. I've yet to read it :)

3. The Boys: Volume One by Garth Ennis - my first experience of anything by Ennis was a Kev Hawkins story that involved The Authority and it wasn't anything I could ever have prepared myself for. In a good way. (If Yaoi introduced me to frank depictions of male/male sex in graphic novels, then Ennis introduced me to the rather inventive (?) use of the F-word). If The Authority made me ask myself, 'World peace is all well and good but who keeps the superheroes in line?' then The Boys takes care of that burning question. Billy Butcher, Wee Hughie, The Female, The Frenchman and Mother's Milk are known as The Boys and they make sure superheroes keep their noses clean. Maybe it involves setting them straight. Maybe it involves a little bit more. Weirdly, my co-bus passengers enjoyed my reading this almost as much as I did as a few of them read it over my shoulder.

2. The Walking Dead by Robert Kirkman and Tony Moore - zombies! This series was recommended to me by Paul and I LOVE IT. Love it times ten. I broke one of my many self-imposed rules - Thou shalt read the book of the film first - and saw the tv series first and spent the whole season with hands clapped over my eyes, screaming, constantly squirming on the edge of my seat and generally loving the mix of suspense and horror. Unsure if you've seen the series but the silence of the world in the first episode? That stays with me even now. The graphic novels manage to impart a lot of the personal struggle the characters have that the series doesn't convey in the quite the same way. I read this particular volume on the bus ride home from work and got off at the other end thinking, 'Darn. I knew I should've requested them all in one hit.' So now I play the waiting game for the rest :)

1. The Authority by Warren Ellis and Bryan Hitch - which is a follow on from the Stormwatch series. Why The Authority? I initially started reading the books for the artwork and the storyline and got hooked by the moral and ethical questions such a superhero body makes me ask (such as 'Where do we draw the line? Who should have the power to decide how society will behave? How much leeway should they have? And who watches them watching us?'), and the action OHGOD the action! I stayed the distance, however, to watch the relationship between Apollo and The Midnighter (a pastiche of Batman). The Midnighter is my fav character, anyway, because he's the epitome of cool in my eyes. But the relationship between the two men? There's romance, love, tenderness and snarky humour galore between the couple. And the book where the world is so polluted that Apollo cannot stay on earth and must remain in the realm of the sun so he can recharge, with brief bouts down to earth to see/hold The Midnighter who sends up balloons as a way of letting Apollo know he misses him? Can anybody say HEARTBREAKING? I'm always a sucker for the romance, and it sure doesn't hurt that they get to kick a little butt (ok, a lot of butt) along the way. The Authority is my absolute top read for October 2011 and kickstarted my love of graphic novels. Before, I dabbled. Now, I'm a big girl with my pull ups, wow.

"Goals allow you to control the direction of change...

2011-10-11T21:20:00.008+13:00

...in your favor."
~ Brian Tracy

Ordinarily, I don't have many IT hassles. If something needs doing, or if there's some skill I suddenly find I need in order to get something done, it's a simple enough thing to figure it out for myself. That method usually works best for me. The odd time or two I can't get it done that way, then I'll discuss it with someone else. Someone much more rational and sane than I am. Usually with Danielle and Natalie because they know everything. But this time, I don't think they can help me. See my sad face :( So, what's the problem? It's this: I really suck at fielding downloadable media queries. Like, really suck. And so I've decided that I have to do something about it, because I'll be damned if I let it get the better of me.

If an email comes in and a customer has found that the ebook they downloaded won't transfer to their Kobo ereader and it's my turn to deal with the inbox, I cringe. Actually, I whimper. If I weren't an adult I'd probably want to crawl under my desk and hide. It mostly comes down to my state of mind because, and I swear this is true, I go into defensive mode and immediately think to myself, 'OMG! I can't do it! I don't know what the answer is! I'm never going to be able to help them! It's going to be too hard! I just know it! I knew I should've worked at Burger King instead of public libraries!' (Yes, I talk excitedly enough to use exclamation marks even in my head). Which is rubbish because about 7 times out of 10 I know the answer, or can reason it out, and can talk customers through to reading/listening to their file. The other 3 times I can't, I discuss it with other staff in our team or, if it's really beyond me, refer it to Overdrive's technical support desk. Our team, and Overdrive's tech support people, respond quickly, they're polite and they never make me feel deficient. Which is just as well because I think I've got that covered on my own :) So, I figure that the best way to get over how it makes me feel - like I'm an absolute boobhead who shouldn't be allowed to answer the phone on my own - is to answer more queries. I think that'll give me more confidence. Or make me more neurotic, I'm not sure yet. And that's my personal work goal, which will run from now till the end of the year: answering more downloadable media queries means I gain more experience and confidence. Outcome? Happy customers, happy Tosca. I think. I hope! I've just now sent an email to the others in my team (I know, what kind of doofus sends work mails this late at night? Me. Always) asking if they can send any and all downloadable media queries to me in the first instance. Dropkick me, Jesus, through the goalposts of life. (That's a song title, by the way).

Is it terrible that a not-so-teeny, tiny part of me hopes they gallantly refuse...? :P

'Driver picks the music...

2011-09-07T22:55:00.009+12:00

...shotgun shuts his cakehole.'
~ Dean (played by Jensen Ackles) to Sam (played by Jared Padalecki) in Supernatural, pilot episode

In which Tosca posts out of order, with the wrong topic on the wrong day, about something that isn't even remotely related to libraries and/or books. Quite possibly isn't funny, either, but I love it and that's all that matters. In fact, it's an REO Speedwagon clip/Supernatural reference. Why? Because I can.

I love the tv show Supernatural and anyone who follows me on Twitter, Facebook and even IRL (in real life) will know this. I love it for a bunch of reasons that are too numerous to name here. Sure, it's got two very goodlooking lead actors - Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki - but that's probably low down on my 'Top 10 reasons I adore Supernatural so much I want to sell my kidney for tickets to next year's Comic-Con to see/meet the cast' list. Near the top would be something like 'monsters' and 'family' and 'quintessential good vs. evil' and 'pop culture references' and, weirdly, 'best quotes ever' too. The soundtrack is definitely a huge bonus. All that 'classic rock' as my nephew calls it. And the hokey ballad stuff, too. Such as this clip below which is REO Speedwagon's Can't fight this feeling complete with big hair and all :) It was used in a scene in an episode of Supernatural which went something like this (although don't take my word for it, you can check it out on YouTube for yourself):

Jo: What?
Dean: REO Speedwagon?
Jo: Damn right, REO. Kevin Cronin sings it from the heart.
Dean: He sings it from the hair. There's a difference.

Personally, I think he sang it from the heart which just happened to be accompanied by huge hair, too. On second thought, maybe it's not funny to anyone but me. I can live with that.

'Let your performance...

2011-08-23T18:23:00.013+12:00

...do the thinking.'
~ H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

In which Tosca realises that this is going to be one of those weeks where she has more questions about libraries and, as is usual lately, offers no answers whatsoever. For the simple reason that she doesn't have any answers. I don't know that there are perfect answers at all, actually. This time around I'd like to know why we measure the success of our services by playing a numbers game. Is it really an accurate depiction of how well we're doing? Or of how many people we're actually reaching? Do stats/reports/numbers really mean that we're providing the best quality library services that we can?

I'm meant to be writing about what music I'm listening to at the moment but I'm not going to. It doesn't mean that I'm not listening to anything. I just have questions that I'm turning over in my head a fair bit lately and need to put down in words somewhere. Why not here.

When I worked in the branches I came to see fairly quickly that everything we do is about numbers: door counts, children who register for the summer reading programme, teens who complete the teen reading programme, adult book club participants, preschoolers and parents who attend storytime, staff who complete a book handling course, visits to high schools, group tutorials, community orientation, etc. For all of these we collate statistics and reports to match up against predetermined objectives to figure out if we're on target for the year or not, and even to see if our numbers are down over this time last year. Or the year before, and the year before that, and the year before that. You get the idea. I understand that. What I want to know is...why? Why do we measure our success this way? Why does it have to be quantified? I know for a fact that a branch daily door count (for example) doesn't really reflect the true customer busy-ness of the day. It might read 845 people, but it doesn't necessarily mean that we actually served 845 people. Neither does it mean that we served any of them to the best of our ability. It most certainly doesn't mean that every single one of those customers got exactly what they were after. Realistically, that number - 845 - says nothing about the true reach or quality of what we do. So...why is it a numbers game? Why is it about quantity (hard measures) and not quality (soft measures)? And if we were to get rid of the numbers...what would we replace it with? A hybrid mix of hard and soft measures? All soft? How would we measure the true success of our organisation? What would that success look like? Who determines when we're successful? And would staff, managers, leaders be ready for it?

Like I said, more questions and no answers.

Incidentally, as to tonight's missing 'earworm' post, I'm listening to Supernatural's original soundtrack. It loops over and over in my head. In a good way. My favourite track would have to be Dean's dirty organ by Christopher Lennertz which is, as the title would suggest, heavy on guitar and organ. And not about porn music even if the title makes you think that, although maybe it does have that slightly cheesy 70s porn music-feel just a little but hey, it's for Dean Winchester (the character) so it wouldn't be totally out of place.

'If you ever plan to motor west...

2011-08-22T23:07:00.011+12:00

...Travel my way, take the highway that is best
Get your kicks on route sixty-six'
~ 'Route 66' by Nat King Cole (written by Bobby Troup)

In which Tosca writes a somewhat long and rambling post with no point whatsoever except to state what she's reading (which is also related to her 2013 international trip). C'est tout. The clip is, of course, Nat King Cole's version of 'Route 66.'

Books! That's what I'm reading. Lots of books. This week I'm heads down in nonfiction books about Route 66. I'd always wanted to travel, right from when I was about 8 years old. For some reason, I never really did, though, other than little trips around New Zealand by myself. I would squirrel money away and save for a perpetual 'rainy day.' That never came. Finally, I got to 31 years of age (5 years ago) and realised that I'd never traveled because I'd been waiting. For what, or whom, I'm not sure. Then, at 32, I decided it was do or die, and booked myself a return trip to New Orleans, a place I'd wanted to visit since the first time I could remember hearing Louis Armstrong. Very possibly I'd heard him before and not realised it (I was 8, it was 1983, cut me some slack), but for some reason the infinite pleasure his music bought me and, later, New Orleans jazz in particular (especially brass bands), didn't really mean anything to me until 1983. My trip, in '09, was everything and more I could want it to be, so much so, in fact, that I'm booked to go back in Feb 2012. This time with a sibling. 1983 was also the first time I heard - and felt an affinity for - Nat King Cole's version of 'Route 66' and, much like Louis Armstrong, I decided then and there that one day I would drive it. Something I plan to do for my 2013 international trip. The road, or the idea of it at least, has always spelled freedom to me. Which brings me to my 'Monday: On the shelf books: covers & titles' post which is, basically, me going crazy with research - the good, the bad and the ugly of Route 66. I requested everything even remotely Route 66-related we have in our libraries and am going through each book to get an idea of the history of the road, why it was so important, and the state of things now. Yeah sure, my trip is two years away, but I doubt my excitement will abate a whit before then.

What I'm reading:

Route 66 : marathon tour Chicago to L.A [DVD videorecording]

501 must-take journeys / project editor Emma Beare

Roadside attractions : cool cafes, souvenir stands, Route 66 relics, and other road trip fun / Brian and Sarah Butko

Traveling Route 66 / Nick Freeth ; consulting editor, Paul Taylor

Route 66 adventure handbook / Drew Knowles

Around the world in knitted socks : 26 inspired designs / Stephanie van der Linden

Big Earth : 101 amazing adventures / Russ Malkin

The complete Route 66 lost & found / Russell A. Olsen

Route 66, lost and found : ruins and relics revisited / Russ Olsen. Vol. 2

Route 66 traveler's guide and roadside companion / Tom Snyder

Route 66 : the mother road / Michael Wallis

Legendary Route 66 : a journey through time along America's mother road / Michael Karl Witzel & Gyvel Young-Witzel

Once I've finished the last 3 or 4 of these (which I anticipate doing by the end of the week) they'll be included in a work top 5 post.

Yeah, this post really won't be of any interest to anybody except me :)

'Reading a book is like re-writing it for yourself...

2011-08-18T18:46:00.046+12:00

...You bring to a novel, anything you read, all your experience of the world. You bring your history and you read it in your own terms.'
~ Angela Carter

In which Tosca started to write about her family (because it's Thursday) and does (in a roundabout way) but ends up with more questions about New Zealand public libraries. Again. And this time asks: Why don't we talk about books, anymore? When did it become a dirty word? When did it become incidental to what we do? Did it just happen over time as library services started to change? Did we not notice until too late? Have we noticed at all? I do apologise in advance for making this week a Cranky McRanty Pants weeklong barrage of library-related posts *pulls a face* but I have lots of questions and no answers. I don't know what I would do with the answers if I did have them. I just find that the more I puzzle things through, the more questions it always engenders. I guess that's life.

My love of books and the written word is because my parents are, and always have been, readers: science fiction, fantasy, westerns, adventure, crime, biographies and memoirs, travelogues, indigenous histories, politics, graphic novels and oh so much more. If it had words, it had a place in our home. As a child my father would sit with me and let me make up wild and fantastical stories about the picture books we had in the house. It was nonsensical babble. I was three years old. I couldn't read. What did I know? Not much, except that magic began and ended within the pages of a book. My parents taught me that an escape to worlds unknown and roads less travelled was mere seconds away if you had a book. And so I read. And read. And read. Through primary, intermediate, high school, tertiary and, now, as an adult. I read for leisure, I read for knowledge, I read for the hell of it. I enjoy everything about books: new books, old books, fonts, spines, covers, blurbs, author pictures, smell of old pages, smell of new pages. Every part of a book is magical to me because I have seen firsthand that books have the power to transform lives. I work in a public library for that very reason. I've been told time and again that my love of books is 'cute' and 'quaint' and 'sweet' and 'charmingly naive.' Sometimes that attitude still pisses me off. Over the last few years, though, I've noticed that we talk about books less which strikes me as really odd because it makes up such a huge part of what I did when I worked in the branch. Think about it: weeding, shelving, mending, checking them in, checking them out, recommending them to customers, making purchase suggestions to acquisitions, facilitating teen book clubs, selecting which ones to display in newsletters, reading them for book club, discussing them with staff and even putting them in displays. But we've stopped talking about them out loud and it makes me sad.

I talk about books everywhere. At the risk of sounding like a Dr. Seuss picture book I talk about them on buses, on planes, in supermarkets, on trains, in book club, at home, online and on the phone - nowhere is sacred as far as I'm concerned. You think I'm kidding but I'm seriously not. These are a few of the conversations I've had while out and about in public over the past year or so:

Bus: I was reading an ebook on the bus and the young man next to me asked if I felt that my ebook was responsible for the demise of the physical book

Plane: on a daytrip home to Wellington to visit Gran the young woman next to me overheard me telling my nephew about our downloadable media and asked me for a demo

Countdown: checkout operator saw my name tag and asked me for an author who was similar to Karin Slaughter

Train: reading a gay male romance novel and the young man next to me asked if libraries carried 'books like that' which started a great discussion about what is/isn't appropriate reading material in libraries

Book club: discussing how it is that we can technically enjoy and appreciate an author's writing style and yet not 'like' the novel at all or feel any empathy for its characters

Home: earnest discussion with siblings about whether or not Carol O'Connell's character Mallory is a sociopath or not

Online: weekly SPBK Chat where we talk about the good, the bad and the ugly of books

Phone: discussing with my BFF why she likes to read Oprah's recommendations when I would rather swallow poison

I was asked to appear at a liaison meeting a couple of months back to give them a digital update - a quick rundown on what was new on the library homepage and in the way of events and databases. So I did. It's an easy enough thing to do and doesn't cost me anything but time. At the end of the talk, I gave them homework. I asked them to tell three people each week about our enewsletters. They looked at me funny, which prompted me to tell them that if they believed 100% in what we do, in what we stand for, in what we're trying to achieve then they would talk about us everywhere and with everyone. I don't think they believed me when I said that I quite happily talk people to death about what we do. I deliberately wear my name tag to and from work for a few reasons. I want people to understand that librarians are approachable, I want people to see that I work for the organisation that I do, I want them to feel that they can ask me anything about our services and, more than that, I want them to ask me about books.

A few years back a colleague told me she didn't read. Not even for leisure. I was equal parts horrified and amused. And then I realised that it was actually becoming more and more normal to bump into non-readers working in our branches. I would love to know how readers' advisory questions go at the front desk, in that case. Or maybe I don't want to know. I'm not sure. I haven't solved anything with this post, really, have I? Except to end with the same questions I started with:

Why don't we talk about books, anymore?

When did it become a dirty word?

When did it become incidental to what we do?

Did it just happen over time as library services started to change?

Did we not notice until too late?

Have we noticed at all?

I absolutely understand that we are not just about books, but surely it's still ok to talk about them out loud amongst ourselves and most certainly with customers? Oh, and one last thing. I talk about books. I'm going to continue talking about books. And if you tell me it's 'sweet' I'm going to give you the evil eye >.<

'Love is the outreach of self...

2011-08-17T18:00:00.000+12:00

...toward completion.'
~ Ralph W. Sockman

In which Tosca has more questions about NZ public libraries. It's Wednesday which means that for once this week I am actually on track for writing a library related post (even though I've done it twice already). However, then I stuff it up slightly by not writing a reflective post at all, so much as asking questions about outreach - what we do, how we do it and whether or not it's still relevant or in need of revision. I guess what I really want to know is: Do NZ public libraries still do outreach?

It's something I've been thinking over quite a bit, on and off, for the last few years. It all came to a head yesterday when I read Sally Pewhairangi's post - Showcase: The Anatomy of Libraries - on her website Finding Heroes. In it Sally states that, "We need to be memorable. We need to be worth talking about. We need to be visible." I absolutely agree.

Some part of me can't help remembering that when I first started in public libraries (a paltry eight years ago which is barely a sneeze in the time some of our staff have worked here), we took outreach seriously. Our children and teen librarians were out and about in the community. They were visiting daycares, primary schools, intermediates, high schools and local businesses. They were reminding people that we could help them, they were ensuring that we were visible and relevant. School children and parents knew our names. I don't get that same feeling anymore. I'm not sure that we're all still doing it. Some of us could be and I just don't get to hear about it or see it, and if that's the case YAY. I only know that somewhere around four years ago it seemed like we had stopped doing it so much. Maybe it had even been edged out by the general day-to-day business of running a library, i.e. rosters, admin (egad there seems to be so much paperwork - is this what I signed on for?), desk shifts, taking staff for performance reviews, learn.net room shifts, etc. I don't think it was deliberate. I don't know that it wasn't.

I'm not saying that this is the only way in which we can be memorable or visible or worth talking about. But it's a start. Isn't it? If we're not reaching out to the community in something as simple as teens or kids services, if we're not in their faces about our services...just how *do* we expect them to find us? Luck only gets us so far and, really, that's not all that far. I can prove it. I worked in City Centre Library for four and a half years. Every day that I worked there someone would walk through the doors and say to us, 'I didn't know you were here!' Huh. So I'd like to know:

Is outreach still relevant?

Why? Or why not?

Does your library still do outreach?

If not, why not?

If so, who goes out? Librarians? Library assistants?

How often do they go out?

Like I said, I have lots of questions about libraries and I'm more than willing to hear how others are doing it, have it done it or want to do it.

'That silhouette creates an image and a night I won't forget...

2011-08-16T21:00:00.002+12:00

...it has a scent of something special
I can't rest
If I resist temptation
Oh, I know for sure that I will lose the best'
~ Caro Emerald's song A night like this from the album Deleted scenes from the cutting room floor

In which Tosca takes a break from Cranky McRanty Pants library posts and, instead, mellows out a little and shares a music clip. C'est tout. (Yes, I realise that the post quote is longer than the intro).

Last year sometime I came across a YouTube clip of Pixie Lott's song Mama do and got caught up clicking on other suggested/recommended/similar videos and came across Caro Emerald's version of the same track. I liked her voice...and never thought anything else about her. Then, last week, my sibling introduced me to her full album (Caro Emerald that is, not Pixie Lot) and I fell in love with her voice, her curves, her hats and her clothes. In that order. She's on repeat on my iPod at the moment. I've spent a fair bit of time looking up more of her clips on YouTube but the one I've chosen below is probably my fav track of hers - A night like this - although the video isn't that great. I think it should focus more on her and less on skinny models but hey, that's my personal opinion.

If you like her, try her album (we only have one copy at our libraries so cue sad face) Deleted scenes from the cutting room floor. If you're a YouTube fiend like my nephews and, sometimes, me, try:

Back it up (official video)

Stuck (official video - love the hats and colours)

Mama do (cover of Pixie Lott's song)

I'm yours (with Der Rudy, cover of Jason M'Raz's song)

If you like the recommendation, you're welcome. And if you don't, well, you're still welcome. Although I question your taste, and then wonder 1) why I still know you and 2) why you read this :)

'When I got my library card...

2011-08-15T20:43:00.010+12:00

...that's when my life began.'
~ Rita Mae Brown

In which Tosca has more questions about libraries, only this time in relation to books in general and readers' advisory in particular. I don't proclaim to know the answers to any of what I'm about to ask. I guess it's more my way of talking aloud in an effort to clarify some thoughts I've had about readers' advisory and how I don't think we've quite managed to do it justice in the past. I also don't expect that anyone answers, but it sure is the icing on the cake if this strikes a chord with someone, somewhere.

It's Monday which means I'm meant to post a book review tonight but I'm not going to. Instead, this post is book related but, more than that, it's work-related. Well, maybe library-related fits better as a term. So, on to the questions:

When did we relinquish our responsibility to provide ongoing readers' advisory professional development for staff? And how do we get that back? It weighs on my mind sometimes that I had awesome readers' advisory skills (I'm modest about everything except this one skill) that, really, weren't recognised when I worked in the branches. And yet it was the hugest part of my job on the front desk. But it didn't count towards my pay at all. Ever. When I was hired on I was asked about books, you know the kinda thing: Do you read? What do you read? And that was it. For the rest of my time there. And yet I put in hours reading across a variety of subjects and genre and format type. For a couple of reasons: I love books, and I was in libraries for the books. Branch managers take us in for our skills and, really, they benefit from it, but we don't learn this shit by osmosis. We keep it up intentionally so it should kinda be recognised intentionally. Managers everywhere, if you're listening, library assistants can't maintain those skills if they're not purposely given the time. We provide damn good service and advice at the front desk but you want to mark me on whether or not I can accurately process till and EFTPOS transactions? There is something seriously wrong with that.

Why isn't it the responsibility of all branch staff to be reading something - fiction, nonfiction, graphic novels, magazines, etc. - and reviewing those for the library website? I'm not talking a book a week. I'm thinking more a book a quarter. That's four books/reviews a year. Definitely achievable. When you consider the number of staff we used to have back then, that would've been 1000 book reviews a year.

We spend a lot of good money on books, so why aren't we making sure we get our dollar's worth? I'm not saying that the only reason we're in business is because of the books (even if, privately, that's what I think and even if, privately, I would rather be about the books than be an internet cafe). But I do wonder why the hell we shell out so much money on books, yet not put that time and investment into our staff to promote them intentionally, and not just accidentally. I read something a few years back that got right up my nose - that readers' advisory was something that happened in general conversation. What a crock of shit. If that is the case, then honey, you're doing it wrong. Oh so wrong.

Why is it that libraries don't allow their staff time to read at work and count that as 'work'? I'm not talking about reading magazines or novels during our lunch or tea breaks. I'm talking about allocating a specific amount of time, either daily or weekly, for staff to read their stock in order to familiarise themselves with their collections. It needn't be much, 15 mins a day. Staff could use the time to go through new books and get an idea of what customers might be asking about, read magazines or newspapers with book recommendations and reviews because customers will come in asking about those, too, maybe choose one specific part of the collection and get to know what's in it and how it can be recommended/used. It is time well spent. And I know this because I've done it.

Are we ready to admit that readers' advisory is about more than recommending books? It's bigger than that. It's the whole kit and kaboodle - from the buildings to how we arrange our shelves and collections (location, location, location) to signage to issuing the books to repeat visits and everything else in between. I'm not sure we're at that point yet.

Do our acquisitions staff believe that branch staff are experts on our collections, too? If a branch staff member makes a purchase recommendation, how seriously is it taken? If a library assistant recommends that a particular subgenre is about to blow up and become popular, what are the odds that they'll be listened to? If, for example, I had stated 3 years ago that steampunk romance was going to be the next biggest thing, would I have been listened to? If I'd also said that male/male romance novels were going to be huge and we should buy books catering for that, would I be taken seriously? The answer to both was no, I was not. And yet both of these subgenre are huge now. Just like I predicted. And I think we missed the boat a little. Your branch staff aren't stupid. They also deal with the general public, all day, every day. They hear what the public want, firsthand. They also practise collection management. Don't automatically discount them. You want your collections to reflect the varied voices in your community. You need your branch staff for that. They keep you in check, they keep your collections real.

I'm not ambitious on my own behalf. I could care less about money and prestige. I don't give a banana about one day being a manager. In fact, I couldn't think of anything worse - it looks like you spend your day sitting in meetings and filling out paperwork. I'll pass on that, thanks. I'd be the crappiest manager in the history of managers, anyway, and I have no illusions about that. I'm ambitious in one thing, though. My greatest wish - or my greatest library wish, anyway - is that when people think of books, they automatically think of libraries. I want that. We are the experts. Aren't we...?

'The quality of our work...

2011-08-14T21:23:00.017+12:00

...depends on the quality of our people.'

In which Tosca has been having rather deep thinky-thoughts about customers, who they are, how we think we're doing it right but don't always and other trivial stuff. You know, the usual.

We talk about 'customer service' and 'customer experience' a lot at work for one very simple reason: It's important. Customers, patrons, buyers, clients, end users, punters - whatever you call them, they're important. And I'm fully aware that they don't always have great library experiences every single time. For maybe a couple of reasons. Sometimes we don't always think to put the customer at the centre of every single part of our service. Other times we think we know what they want when we don't. I've often heard, 'That's not what the customer wants' so much that I almost began to believe it myself. And then kicked my own arse because really...did we ask them?

Over the last week I've been in some interesting discussions about customer-driven acquisitions policies, why we let our desk rosters be wielded like weapons rather than tools, how come we have staff who would be better suited to backrooms working on our front desks instead, and whether or not the term 'customer service adviser' for 'library assistant' is patronising (Personally? Yes, I feel it is but that's my personal opinion). There are no easy answers. Maybe, for some of these things, there are no answers at all. Instead, I have questions:

Customer-driven services: Where do we draw the line between seeking customer input on library service ideas before implementing them, and not having whimsical feedback drive/change everything we do? A couple years back a branch decided to have music playing over the PA system. A customer complained. The branch yanked it. That was one customer. What sticks in my mind is that possibly the other 500 or so who did hear the music appreciated it but didn't say so. We'll never know. Something a colleague said to me last year sticks with me always and it's this: If Steve Jobs had waited for customers to tell him they wanted the iPod we'd never have had it. So I ask, what counts as feedback? How much feedback do we need before we change a part of a service? And do we cry about it if we lose a couple of customers but gain 100 more? How much do we let customers determine our business?

As a public library, what is our business? For that matter, what is any library's business? I've had this discussion on and off for eight years straight (my lifetime working in public libraries) and I'm still not sure. I often think that if I cannot articulate what our core business is, maybe that's because the organisation's message isn't too clear, either. Depending on who you ask - which could also depend on the department that they work in - you'll get a different answer each time. The debates get quite philosophical and heated. One thing I hear a lot is that our core business is creating educated and happy communities. It's a thought I enjoy but is that really our core business? And, if it is, how is it quantifiable? What do those measures look like? And if that is our core business, why are we constantly collating statistics about people visits and participation numbers for events. Do those really reflect how happy and educated our communities are? Or are educated and happy communities the feelgood byproduct of what we hope we do?

Who are our customers? What do they do? Why do they use us? I often hear people talk about customers and when they reason that these are people who physically use our libraries somewhere, I'm sure, a fairy dies. As far as I'm concerned our customers are members and non-members who are individuals and/or organisations on a local, national and international level who have a query, or are interested in, our services Whether that's because they are using us, want to use us, or are curious about why we do what we do in a professional sense, it all counts. They're customers. That is to say, anybody and everybody. Is that really the case?

If we were really that serious about customer service, why do we not get rid of all of the staff who aren't? Or is that too simplistic? And is that something I never voice aloud? I'm the first to put my hand up to admit that I don't always enjoy being around customers for too long at a time. Hell, most days I don't even enjoy being around staff fullstop. Why work in libraries then, right? I adore books. I adore people who adore books. I adore information. I adore people who adore information. Helping people make that connection, well, it's a beautiful thing. I look at it like this, I want everybody to be able to get the best out of our libraries. In other words, I want to teach them to fish for themselves, so they can fish for a lifetime. It sounds idealistic, and it probably is, but it's also self-serving. If I get it right that first time, if I've done it well, they don't need to speak to me again. If they do, then I've probably done something really wrong *pulls a face* So, if we were to get rid of all staff who don't like to deal with customers, would I be the first to go? With my awkward reasoning, very probably. And if that were the case? I think I'm ok with that.

Too many thoughts, and questions, for a Sunday night. No clarity around them just yet.

'For many people a job is more than an income...

2011-07-28T18:45:00.008+12:00

... - it's an important part of who we are. So a career transition of any sort is one of the most unsettling experiences you can face in your life.'
~ Paul Clitheroe

In which Tosca discovers the importance of tea breaks, namely that I feel less like whacking people if I regularly get sugar and food, and then realises that if something as simple as a tea break solves that problem then maybe she can find other tricks to make work more enjoyable. And perhaps the workplace will be a more enjoyable (although I'll settle for bearable) environment to be in.

No, I'm not changing my job. Or at least, not today and, very probably, not tomorrow. For the most part I enjoy what I do for a buck. Some days I don't. What kinda days? Days when there are meetings, performance development reviews, events that involve me speaking etc. I'm one of those people that doesn't really want to be heard - I just want to work somewhere out the back and be left alone to get it done. Often I find it hard to switch my brain off so normal things like tea breaks/lunch breaks aren't something I do often. If I need sugar/food/whatever I tend to eat it at my desk (I know, bad habit). Because I can't switch off, more often than not I take work home with me at night and on weekends - things like eNewsletters (creating and editing), researching ideas for blog posts and tweets, looking for ideas for developing our social media streams and constantly scanning for information that is relevant to what I do and the field I work in. After a while, though, if you're starting to feel iffy about the job and your role in the organisation, things like working outside of work and not taking proper breaks add to the general feeling of discontent. Thinking it was about time I did something about that I hunted around for simple ideas/tricks that I could use to make what I do, who I do it with, and where I do it something I will enjoy. Surely some of that responsibility is mine? There will be no meditation, no joining social clubs, no joining work sports teams and, most definitely, I'm not going to suddenly start channelling positivity. That ain't my style. Here are 5 simple things I'm going to do to try to like work more:

take breaks away from my desk - not necessarily in the lunchroom with other staff (when it's empty because I need alone time)

get out of the building at least once a day - walk around the square, sit in the courtyard and people watch, something that involves being away from the office (and, really, people)

set one fun (not necessarily silly although yes if that's what I want to do) work goal to achieve each day

don't talk about work during break times - this is one of the reasons why I stopped hanging out in our lunchrooms, for some reason people want to talk about work and, worse, annoy me while I'm reading: book + Tosca = SILENCE

leave work at work - or, maybe, keep a better eye on my working hours

Two things: 1)I changed the format of the blog so there's a timetable to the top left that gives an idea of what I will post about on a particular day 2) I didn't stick to the format today - sorry.

'Reading - the best state yet...

2011-07-25T22:38:00.020+12:00

...to keep absolutely loneliness at bay.'
~ William Styron

In which Tosca shares what she's reading at the moment (funny title, funny book) and takes time out to leave numerous links of interest here as well (yes, even though Link Love posts aren't until Saturday).

On the bus I read not to keep loneliness at bay, but to keep people at bay and because I don't have it in me to just sit and window watch. I'd rather be doing something, even if it's just keeping my mind occupied, so I always carry at least one physical book and a few ebooks. I'm never without reading material of some sort or another. This week's bus-read is Crap lyrics by Johnny Sharp and is hilarious. I found myself chuckling out loud more than once and, much to my co-passenger's consternation, some weird combination of snorting/choking. In my mind it's a book to be shared (even though some bits make you wince like omg-did-he-just-say-that?).

Title: Crap lyrics : a celebration of all the very worst pop lyrics of all time-- ever!
Author: Johnny Sharp
Year: 2009
Publisher: Portico
Synopsis: This title presents a witty celebration of the worst lyrics ever to grace the airwaves. After all, there are bad lines, and then there are really bad lines. Even the mighty have their off days - Bob Dylan may have written protest anthem "Blowing in the Wind" but he also wrote "wiggle, wiggle, like a bowl of soup". Even Kate Bush, who spent 10 years writing her eagerly-anticipated Aerial album, came out with a song (Mrs Bartolozzi) about a washing machine: "Slooshy sloshy slooshy sloshy/Get that dirty shirty clean"... This book is by an author who has toiled at the cliff-face of British pop music for years. Who better to steer a narrative path through the convoluted wordplay and hackneyed cliches of crap lyrics?

Link love: various blog/website links I received via RSS feeds today that may be of interest (probably only to me but hey, it's the thought that counts)

10 surprising stars who started in soap operas, May 2 2011

Babbling about books, and more - book reviews, commentary and everything in between from an eccentric redhead who lives to write: WTF or not? You decide - some interesting WTFckery coming your way..., July 24 2011

Chron.com: The 15 most boring books, July 9 2010

Frenetic reader - YA book reviews and such: 5 underappreciated non-contemporary novels, July 23 2011

Gizmodo: 12 brilliant examples of lighthouse technology, July 22 2011

Gizmodo: These tongs are actually an FDA approved vibrator for men, July 22 2011

Listverse.com: Top 10 most boring movies

NPR.org: Vacation reads for the high country adventurer, July 25 2011

NPR.org: Yo, bro! Belly up to the bar and recite 'Broetry', July 25 2011

The NYT Sunday book review: Why writers belong behind bars, July 22 2011

ReadWriteWeb: How Dell really listens to its customers, July 22 2011

ToplessRobot.com: The 10 crappiest moments in Captain America's history, July 22 2011

ToplessRobot.com: 12 terrible Comic-Con faux pas, July 23 2011

The NYT Book Review: The inside list by Jennifer Schuessler, July 22 2011

'...the relentless Maorification...

2011-07-15T21:28:00.017+12:00

... of every bloody thing in New Zealand.'
~ John Ansell

In which Tosca finds herself surprised that she isn't angry about Ansell's comments so much as she is resigned. And thinks that maybe that's a worse thing to be.

I don't profess to speak for all Maori. Ever. I feel like I should make that clear even though, really, it should be common sense. After all, John Key doesn't speak for all Pakeha, right? Nor does Don Brash and neither, I imagine, does John Ansell. Or does he? I've been relatively quiet on the issue of Ansell's balls to the wall statements (if you've missed it then Google it because there's certainly no shortage of links) for a couple of reasons: I hate election year because suddenly the Maori culture - that is a wonder to behold every other couple of years in between election year - suddenly becomes the great brown elephant in the room so why should this year be any different?; if I got up in arms about every negative comment about Maori I'd have lost my mind years ago. Any time I read comments made by Pakeha who are in a position of authority and prestige that are disparaging about Maori I have to sit back and take a deep breath before reacting. I'm not going to address everything he listed because I'm not sure it's worth my time. Instead I'm going to choose one point that really got up my left nostril, and that's it. Why only one? Any more and it's just waffle:

"These guys (Maori) have gone from the stone age to the space age in 150 years and haven't said thanks. That's the nature of the thing. In Maori world, if one tribe conquers another you eat the guys eyeballs. The Brits were pretty civilised by that standard."

Essentially, Ansell's right on two counts: the Brits were extremely civilised and legislated the hell out of us, and Maori haven't thanked the Crown. I'm only one lone voice but I'll give it a try. So here you go:

Thank you for the Christian missionaries who brought the bible and used it to wipe out belief in Maori atua and practices, ensuring that our karakia were lost

Thank you for those same missionaries whose delicate sensibilities deemed our carvings rude and saw to their removal from various wharenui, many of which my mother's tribe buried for safety and were never seen again, ensuring that our taonga were lost

Thank you for undertaking to protect and preserve Maori taonga - which includes te reo Maori - to the point that Maori had to fight to retain it and, even now, puts up with people saying that our language is dying out

Thank you for the early land tenure system that took land from Maori

Thank you for the Tohunga Suppression Act 1907 that denied tohunga the right to be what they had always been - spiritual and medicinal leaders

Thank you for the Native Schools Act 1867 which stated that only English could be used in schools, thereby denying Maori the right to learn in our native language

Thank you for the native schools which weren't really about schooling children so much as they were about being 'civilising agencies and centres for spreading European ideas and habits among the Maoris' - I gotta tell you, I feel extra special knowing that one

Thank you for the Land Claims Ordinance which stated that any land not actually occupied or used by Maori belonged to the Crown - judgement value much?

Thank you for abolishing the Protectorate Department, which was meant to protect Maori rights - oh god, the irony *insert sarcasm*

Thank you for the Native Lands Act 1862 which meant that land titles had to be held by individuals instead of communities - this has to be one of the biggest blows in my mind

Thank you for the Suppression of Rebellion Act 1863 which meant that Maori were denied the right to a trial before being imprisoned

Thank you for the New Zealand Settlement Act 1863 which saw millions of acres of land misappropriated to fund what was, essentially, a land war

Thank you for ensuring that I had to go to tertiary to learn about my history and language because it wasn't on offer anywhere else - and thank you for charging me to do so, by the way...

It breaks my heart to list these, it really does and I have to stop, it's just too depressing to carry on. I'd recommend reading Paul Moon's work. I was lucky enough to be one of Paul's many students and, if not for his lectures and debates (seriously, the kick I used to get out of debating points of view with him - the man is scarily clever and I wish I could have had one tenth of his mind) I wouldn't have been able to intellectualise it all. I suspect I'd have ended up angry, frustrated and polarised.

Ansell's right. I have so much to be thankful for. So much so that I could spend ages making the list longer and longer but, in the end, to what end? I know my history. I live it, I breathe it. Not just when I'm on a marae or around extended whanau. Everyday. Yes, everyday, when I hear people say that the Maori Development Corporation was a contradiction in terms, when I read online comments about how taniwha are a joke (just because your non-Maori world view is the unacknowledged dominant opinion does not mean that mine doesn't count), when people tell me that the Treaty has no place in modern times, when I hear others say that my language is dying, when I was called a dirty brownie by Conifer Grove kids, when some of the people I work with still don't see the value of their Maori collections and how precious these are to our local communities whose iwi histories are not recorded anywhere else, when Conifer Grove shopkeepers either refused to serve me or did so rudely and called me 'one of those brown kids.' So yeah, I'm thankful and, as I'm sure you can tell, just enjoying those special 'apartheid' measures that some people like to think we have. But we don't. We really don't.

What I find darkly funny is that Ansell is, I guess, opposed to what he sees as assimilation. It's insidious. And dangerous. I agree, Mr. Ansell and I am living proof that it is. I don't want to ensure the relentless Maorification of every bloody thing in New Zealand, Mr. Ansell. I just want, one day, to see the relentless Maorification of Maori.

This is a gloomy post. I'm not sorry for it. I will, however, point you to an hilarious Maorification response: Moata Tamaira's 'Maorify this' post. It's well worth the read.

'Books serve to show a man that those original thoughts of his...

2011-07-13T23:02:00.010+12:00

...aren't very new after all.'
~ Abraham Lincoln

In which Tosca discovers that Steven Lowe and Alan McArthur have read her mind about some of the exasperating crap that makes up modern culture and have written another book about it. Yay. (And wishes she could say that she'd found it using some fantastic scientific method but admits to using a keyword search for, well, 'shit'). Or something like it. Did you really expect anything classy?

I'm not a doctor but I think I have strep throat. Either that or a really sore throat. Attended an author talk last night and came back feeling slightly off: cold, headache, sore throat, raging fever. Went to work anyway and spent the day mostly quiet (I bet my colleagues were glad for it), dehydrated and slightly worse for wear. Long day. To cheer myself up I came home and decided to look for books that match how I feel (like shit) and choose the most interesting to read. I chose this title for two reasons: it reminds me of something a friend used to say about how the smelly stuff would hit the whirly thing, and I'm familiar with the authors already as I've read Is it just me or is everything shit? : the encyclopedia of modern life and Is it just me or is everything shit? : the encyclopedia of modern life. Vol. 2. They're rude, on point, full of common sense and absolutely hilarious in their summation of the crap that makes up modern culture. I'm hoping this is more of the same.

Title: Is it just me or has the shit hit the fan?
Year: 2009
Publisher: Sphere
Synopsis: From Sarkozy to Obama, bank bailouts to enviro-copouts, people getting overly obsessed with The Wire to economists lining up to explain away their credulity; a rumination on the fact that Jordan is actually rich enough to buy General Motors following its share crash; plus a hard-hitting analysis of Bob the Builder, etc.

'Life...

2011-07-06T23:07:00.010+12:00

...is a four letter word.'
~ Lenny Bruce

In which Tosca shares a book cover that made her forget what she was looking for in the first place, and a dvd title that will give her the swear-fest she wants to indulge in but won't, and do it in a classy way to boot (maybe)...because she can.

It's Wednesday and this is meant to be a 'What the...?!?' of funny, oddball, screwy book titles but, considering I've spent a good chunk of today crying at a funeral service, I'm opting for an unusual book cover and a dvd I chose because of the title in the hope that it'll provide a great way to unwind after this most odd week.

I spend lots of time in strange pockets of our catalogue looking for books for myself or for our enewsletters or even for our work blog so it's a half-half mix of my deliberately seeking weird stuff out and it kinda coming to me all on its lonesome. Like this one, for example. I can't even remember what I was initially searching for but this is what I ended up with and everything else, after that top image, just got forgotten. I'm still not sure I know what I was looking for.

Title: Breeding dogs : a practical guide by Patsy Hollings and Stephen Hollings
Year: 2011
Publisher: Crowood Press
Synopsis: Topics covered include: choosing your breed, basic genetics, family traits and hereditary problems ; the brood bitch-health and welfare; the stud dog, training and healthcare; rearing puppies-general husbandy, feeding and worming; finding homes for your puppies, what to look out for.

Figuring I might need to wind down this week with a serious swear-fest (in an intellectual/artistic way, of course, because I'm classy like that - well, no, I'm not, never have been and never will be), I requested the following dvd which I am expecting great things from:

Title: F*ck [DVD videorecording] a film by Steve Anderson
Rating: Restricted 18: Restricted to persons 18 years and over. Note: Offensive language, sexual material and other content may offend.
About: Including interviews with Pat Boone, Drew Carey, Billy Connolly, Bill Maher, Alanis Morissette, Kevin Smith, Hunter S. Thompson. This challenging and provocative documentary takes a look on all sides of the infamous F-word. Its taboo, obscene and controversial, yet somehow seems to permeate every single aspect of our culture - from Hollywood to the schoolyard to the Senate floor in Washington D.C. It's the word at the very center of the debate on Free Speech - and everyone seems to have an opinion. FUCK will exam how the word is impacting our world today thru interviews, film and television clips, music, and original animation by Oscar nominee Bill Plympton. Scholars and linguists will examine the long history of fuck. Comedians, actors, and writers who have charted and popularized the upward course of fuck will be heard from, often while defending the Constitutional Right of Free Speech, all the way to the Supreme Court. FUCK will visit with those who actually fuck for a living. We'll hear from advocates who oppose fuck and it's infringement into our everyday lives. We'll watch some of the most famous and infamous film and television clips that feature fuck, we'll hear some of the most famous fucks ever uttered and we'll feel the impact of fuck on our everyday lives.

'For some moments in life...

2011-07-04T00:18:00.005+12:00

...there are no words.'
~ David Seltzer in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

In which the death of a child makes Tosca somewhat sad and reflective. Or something.

Over the weekend my first-cousin's two month old baby died of cot death. None of us understand the how or why of it. Even if we did I'm not sure that understanding would lessen the hurt or confusion any. This is the first death of any of the great grandchildren and we're all feeling it - my nieces and nephews, my siblings and first-cousins and my dad and his siblings, too. I'm going to take some time off tomorrow to go and sit with Linda and the baby. I have no idea what to say but I figure that at a time like this she doesn't need me to talk.

Moe mai ra, Nga Whetu TeAho Rehua, i raro i te korowai aroha o te Atua runga rawa.

'A book is a gift you can open...

2011-07-03T10:27:00.005+12:00

...again and again.'
~ Garrison Keillor

In which Tosca shares a book cover that may never get opened, ever ever ever, because she's sure women everywhere will die happy just looking at the cover. Or something like that.

It's Saturday so this is a 'Book cover of the week' post so, you know, here's a book cover. A couple weeks back I clicked on a link a fellow romance reader shared on Twitter and saw the romance novel cover to end all romance novel covers. I spent two full on minutes in awed silence. Not pervy silence. Well, maybe not totally. But awe because there is absolutely no ambiguity about this cover at all. I know exactly what I'm going to get out of this book: hot-naked manliness, explicit sex and ice hockey (not figure skating on ice, but ice hockey - huge difference). Totally worth sharing.

Taking a shot by Jaci Burton

'We can never be sure that the opinion we are endeavoring to stifle is a false opinion...

2011-07-01T23:18:00.007+12:00

...and if we were sure, stifling it would be an evil still."
~ John Stuart Mill, On Liberty, 1859

In which Tosca moderately expresses her disappointment at what passes for 'journalism.' An epiphany that came about as a result of reading an online article that discusses how Auckland Libraries will stock a controversial book and is amazed that this is considered 'reporting' - and I use that word loosely - because it's rather stating the obvious, isn't it? Isn't that what public libraries do? Stock books? And which controversial book in particular? We have thousands of books, a good chunk of which have been challenged and or banned at some point or another.

It's Friday and this is meant to be my Ms. Cranky McRanty Pants post but it's more that I'm expressing my disappointment in what serves as 'journalism' these days than ranting. Although I promise to keep it moderate, I mean, hell, it's almost midnight and I'm frozen solid and, earlier this evening, was blowing hot air up an inflatable pony's ass for Remy the Pooh's first birthday.

I have numerous alerts set up - Google alerts, RSS alerts, message board alerts... You name it and I have it set up. One of the things I do in my role is monitor what's being said about our organisation, where, by whom and in what context. If it's in the form of social media then it's my job to decide what we respond to and how. Needless to say, it keeps me on my toes. Luckily it's a part of the job I enjoy quite a bit. My alerts go bonkers with newspaper mentions everyday but I wasn't expecting the one that I saw this morning which read Auckland libraries to stock controversial book. I've never been a fan of anybody who states the obvious, and pointing that the library will stock a controversial book is a given. We stock lots of them. Let me name a few:

Harry Potter

On the origin of species

Lady Chatterley's lover

The hoax of the twentieth century

Twilight

Hitler's willing executioners: ordinary Germans and the Holocaust

Of mice and men

The DaVinci code

The holy blood and the holy grail

The bible

The catcher in the rye

The story of O

Fanny Hill: memoirs of a woman of pleasure

The adventures of Huckleberry Finn

Ulysses

Lolita

The book of Mormon

These don't even scratch the surface of what we hold. We offer everything that we reasonably can - and by 'reasonably' I mean that we can find/purchase - and leave it to customers to choose or choose not (how very Yoda sounding). We are not in the business of making judgement values about books. If we were I'd have a branch full of romance novels and that's it. We do not censor. We provide people with the widest range of resources that we can and that reflects community views. Yes, even those that vary. When we purchase items we do so free of bias and with professional expertise. And yes, that includes Macsyna King/Ian Wishart's book, too.

I don't consider this 'news.' I consider it stating the obvious. Speak to all of the public library managers in New Zealand and then tell me you have a well-thought out article and are not merely stirring the pot and/or provoking scandal.

'There are two ways to live...

2011-06-30T21:24:00.005+12:00

...you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.'
~ Albert Einstein

In which Tosca offers up an unusual title she found in the catalogue purely by accident (funny what you find when you perform a keyword search using the word 'fuck' isn't it?), remembers she never congratulated her older sister on her success...two years ago *shamefaced look* and shares a work blog post here.

It's Wednesday so this is my usual wtfery in the way of book titles that give me the giggles (mostly because I'm juvenile). I'm also going to share (because I'm caring like that - ok, you got me, no I'm not) how clever my older sister Kylie is (because she is) and a work blog post that, I think, is important. Because I can.

Title: Fuck this book
Author: Bodji Oser
Year: c2005
Publisher: Chronicle Books
Synopsis: Juvenile, profane, and timeless, Fuck This Book collects images of real public signs that have been mischievously altered by stickers bearing the most expressive of all four-letter words. Addictively hilarious, the results show a world persuasively transformed. Please Don't Fuck the Pigeons, indeed. What happens if one triggers the Automatic Sprinkler Fuck Off Valve? And is it any wonder The Fuck Depot is so popular? All photographs are unretouched - the result of countless hours on the hunt for the almost perfect sign, in need of just the slightest improvement. This is not social commentary. There is no message. It's not meant to offend, exploit, or embarrass anyone. All real stickers. All real signs. All in fun.

My comment? I NEED TO READ THIS BOOK! Imagine if people took the title as a command o_O

My sister Kylie? She's awesome and the post quote is for her. I've never told her that I think she's great, though - like ever - and I'm only just realising it. Two years ago a book she and her colleagues were commissioned to write - He pātaka kupu : te kai a te rangatira - won the the Maori Language category in the Montana New Zealand Book Awards. I couldn't attend the book launch :( Being raised in separate cities at opposite ends of the north island makes it incredibly easy for me to be a slack sibling. I would like to point out that she was way awesome before the award, of course :) So, first on the agenda for tomorrow: tell her how awesome I think she is and congratulate her on the award. Two years late. Still heartfelt.

I've been following online articles and discussions in relation to people calling for NZ bookstores to boycott Macsyna King/Ian Wishart's upcoming book Breaking silence: the Kahui case and it's got me more than a little concerned. And with damn good reason. I'm not going to re-blog the whole post here but if you're at all curious about it you can read it on our work blog. C'est tout.

'A heart that yearns...

2011-06-23T19:19:00.009+12:00

...be careful.'
~ Special Agent Dale Cooper, Twin Peaks

In which Tosca feels slightly nostalgic and yearns for the days when she and Kyle MacLachlan (as very Special Agent Dale Cooper) were younger. Much younger. Like twenty years younger. And somewhat dumber. Ok, a lot dumber, but hey, that's life. And besides, know me before you judge me. Two video clips courtesy of YouTube: one from Twin Peaks and a Barenaked Ladies music video.

I loved the tv series Twin Peaks. Most especially the dynamics between Special Agent Dale Cooper and Audrey Horne, as played by Kyle MacLachlan and Sherilyn Fenn. If ever an onscreen couple gave me great yearnage (mine and Danielle's made up term meaning intense longing and yearning that is never realised) it was these two. Truthfully, I only watched the series for those brief moments that saw them interacting. If fanfic had been back around then - maybe it was and I just hadn't gotten around to it - I would've shipped it. Hard. Meaning, I guess, that even back then I was in it for the romance. Quick clip of when Dale Cooper and Audrey meet for the first time. She has no clue, really, of her impact on Cooper (egad, imagine if she did!) and his first reaction to her is ten kinds of awesome. And don't bother to point out to me that she's still at school so it couldn't have gone anywhere. In my imagination? He waits for her to grow up and then it goes *everywhere.* Oh and no rude jokes that he likes her grapefruit freshly squeezed :)

Barenaked Ladies *sigh* I don't even have the words to describe how much I enjoy their music in general, and this version of One week in particular.

'Every book is a children's book...

2011-06-22T18:47:00.016+12:00

...if the kid can read!'
~ Mitch Hedberg

In which Tosca finds two unusual book titles in the catalogue and feels a burning need to share them. Umm but kids probably won't read them. Even if they could do so.

It's Wednesday which means this is a 'What the...?! - funny, stupid, oddball book titles' kinda post. No intro because 1) I can't be bothered and 2) the books don't need one, really. They're about organic waste as fertiliser - what more can I say? And, maybe the next time someone shovels me bullshit, I know what to do with it...grow flowers.

Title: The humanure handbook : a guide to composting human manure
Author: Joseph C. Jenkins
Publisher: Jenkins
Year: c1994
Synopsis: The 10th Anniversary Edition of the most comprehensive, up-to-date and thoroughly researched book on the topic of composting human manure available anywhere. It includes a review of the historical, cultural and environmental issues pertaining to "human waste," as well as an in depth look at the potential health risks related to humanure recycling, with clear instructions on how to eliminate those dangers in order to safely convert humanure into garden soil. Written by a humanure composter with over thirty years experience, this classic work now includes illustrated, step-by-step instructions on how to build a "$25 humanure toilet," a chapter on alternative graywater systems, photos of owner-built humanure toilets from around the world, and an overview of commercial composting toilets and systems. (Product description from Amazon.com)

Title: Holy shit : managing manure to save mankind
Author: Gene Logsdon ; illustrations by Brooke Budner
Publisher: Chelsea Green Pub. Co.
Year: 2010
Synopsis: "Contrary Farmer" Gene Logsdon provides the inside story of manure, our greatest, yet most misunderstood, natural resource. He begins by lamenting a modern society that not only throws away both animal and human manure worth billions of dollars in fertilizer value but spends a staggering amount of money to do so. This wastefulness makes even less sense as the supply of mined or chemically synthesized fertilizers dwindles and their cost skyrockets.

'The time to read is any time...

2011-06-13T21:02:00.023+12:00

...no apparatus, no appointment of time and place, is necessary. It is the only art which can be practised at any hour of the day or night, whenever the time and inclination comes, that is your time for reading; in joy or sorrow, health or illness.'
~ Holbrook Jackson

In which Tosca works on getting back her broken book mojo by reading a number of books - three horror titles courtesy of SFFANZ for reviewing, and three graphic novels found while generally hanging out in subversive pockets of our library catalogue. Namely, yaoi graphic novels (two with the sex scenes ripped out of them) and zombies (with the horror scenes intact).

It's Monday and this is my 'What I'm reading' post which is, really, just a quick listing of a tiny bit of what I have out at the moment. I'm in the middle of *does a quick count up* thirty-one books. Roughly. All at various stages depending on how 'into' them I am currently. There's a mix of nonfiction, graphic novels and fiction, most of which I'm reading for some of my eNewsletters. So far I'm enjoying them. Even with pages missing *sigh*

Title: Feed - book 1 in the Newsflesh trilogy
Author: Mira Grant
Genre: Science fiction, horror fiction
Publisher: Orbit
Year: c2010
Summary: "The year was 2014. We had cured cancer. We had beaten the common cold. But in doing so we had created something new, something terrible that no one could stop. The infection spread, virus blocks taking over bodies and minds with one, unstoppable command: FEED. Now, twenty years after the Rising, Georgia and Shaun Mason are on the trail of the biggest story of their lives--the dark conspiracy behind the infected. The truth will [come] out, even if it kills them." -- Cover.

Title: Deadline - book 2 in the Newsflesh trilogy
Author: Mira Grant
Genre: Science fiction, horror fiction
Publisher: Orbit
Year: 2011
Summary: "Shaun Mason is a man without a mission. Not even running the news organisation he built with his sister has the same urgency as it used to. Playing with dead things just doesn't seem as fun when you've lost as much as he has. But when a researcher from the Centre for Disease Control fakes her own death and appears on his doorstep with a ravenous pack of zombies in tow, Shaun's relieved to find a new purpose in life. Because she brings news: the monster who attacked them may be destroyed, but the conspiracy is far from dead. Now, Shaun hits the road to find what truth can be found at the end of a shotgun." -- Back cover.

Title:Breathers: a zombie's lament
Author: S.G. Browne
Genre: Horror, comedy
Publisher: Piatkus
Year: 2009
Summary: Meet Andy Warner, a recently deceased everyman and newly minted zombie. Resented by his parents, abandoned by his friends, and reviled by a society that no longer considers him human, Andy is having trouble adjusting to his new existence. But all that changes when he goes to an Undead Anonymous meeting and finds kindred souls in Rita, an impossibly sexy recent suicide with a taste for the formaldehyde in cosmetic products, and Jerry, a twenty-one-year-old car-crash victim with an exposed brain and a penchant for Renaissance pornography. When the group meets a rogue zombie who teaches them the joys of human flesh, things start to get messy, and Andy embarks on a journey of self-discovery that will take him from his casket to the SPCA to a media-driven class-action lawsuit on behalf of the rights of zombies everywhere.

Title:Love knot
Author: Lemon Ichijo
Genre: Graphic novel
Rating: M - Mature: Explicit sexuality, sexual full body nudity, mild violence, mild language
Publisher: Piatkus
Year: 2009
Summary: "Tomoya's got good looks and a violent streak to match, but he has one regret, having turned down the feelings of his best friends from junior high with lame excuse, "I dont like guys who are shorter than me!" However, he's in for a big surprise when a tall man he doesn't recognize meets him outside his home...with a big hug." -- Cover.

Tosca's comment: Missing pages. Worse: missing pages with sex scenes. Do you know how awfully irritating that is? It's not that I'm perverted - well, possibly it is, but that's not that only reason - it's more that it's a form of vandalism and it interrupts the flow of the story. Who knows what happens in those pages? Admittedly, I can guess, but that's not the point. And whether it's censorship or kink I have no clue. Gah. Bad people!

Title: Crimson spell - book 1 in the Crimson spell series
Author: Ayano Yamane
Genre: Graphic novel
Rating: Parental advisory, explicit content
Publisher: Kitty Press
Year: c2005
Summary: In an attempt to save his country, prince Valdrigue uses the cursed sword, which once belonged to his father. Now he is slowly turning into a beast and the only person who can save him is the mysterious and powerful wizard Hallwill. In exchange for help Valdrigue must accompany the wizard in his quest for magical devices. When Hallwill sees the beast side of Valdrigue, he finds it quite attractive. But the prince, who is unaware of his actions as a beast, knows nothing of Hallwill's doings. Meanwhile the curse seems more complicated than they've anticipated.

Title: Lover's flat
Author: Hyouta Fujiyama
Genre: Graphic novel
Rating: Parental advisory, explicit content
Publisher: Digital Manga Pub.
Year: c2007
Summary: A bit of Christmas merriment leads to a night of passion between Natsu and Kouno. How do the two plan on handling "the morning after?" Natsu doesn't want to let go and their relationship continues. Kouno begins harbouring feelings of love toward Natsu and every day it gets harder and harder for him to confess his love.

Comment: Pages ripped out. Sex scenes. Again. Why? As above, I'm not sure if it's a form of protest or a kink. Nor which I'd prefer it to be. If it's a form of protest I wish they'd put it in writing and address it to the branch manager. If it's a form of kink...maybe I'd rather not know about that. Please, please don't rip our books. Yes, I might get my HEA (happy ever after) moment and yes, you might think it's formulaic, but I deserve to read the journey in its entirety.

'Don't ask yourself what the world needs...

2011-06-10T22:02:00.000+12:00

...ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.'
~ Howard Thurman

In which Tosca is inspired to take back her joy. And yes, it truly is as corny as you think it's going to be.

Last month I met a guy who knew his way around a bed. That's not a euphemism. Dylan is a sales assistant and he earns an income selling beds. On the face of it, it may not seem particularly inspiring, and yet within two minutes of chatting with him I learned four things: 1) Dylan is enthusiastic about what he does, 2) he knows his product, 3) he believes in the quality of it and 4) can quite happily put his money where his mouth is. When I met him he'd only worked there for about two weeks but - and this is the bit that amazed me - had chosen to use his lunch breaks and personal time to visit local competitor stores. He would test their beds and see how much their staff really knew about their business. I was fascinated by his attitude. It made me think to myself, 'When was the last time you felt that energetic and fired up about what you do?' And the answer is, 'Not in months.' Probably seven, actually, if I'm honest. I had often wondered if maybe my enjoyment of what I do had gone for good and if maybe it was time to move on. Listening to Dylan, though, I began to realise that, maybe, some of the responsibility for making my job more enjoyable had to be mine. I needed to step up. I needed to create, find or foster activities/opportunities that would give me back what I used to love about it all. I came away inspired by Dylan's attitude and determined to take back my joy. Yes, I'm fully aware of how totally dopey that sounds. He made me believe that I could feel that exact same way about something, anything. (I'm hoping like heck that last sentence didn't come across as irony or, worse, apathy). I'm just not sure how, yet. That will be the next step.

'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio...

2011-06-09T20:11:00.007+12:00

...Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'
~ Shakespeare, Hamlet

In which Tosca is depressed and frustrated that today's taniwha in-joke results in her cultural beliefs becoming the butt of a nationally recognised corporate joke. My personal tweetstream was busy today with the hashtag #taniwha that I didn't get at first and, when I did, I was taken aback, and then grumpy, and then depressed. So much so that I posted in a hurry and know I will have grammatical errors (Maori and English) galore. Deal. I am.

Amended note - 11:10pm: I'd like to point out that what I saw on my personal tweetstream was not instances of the people I follow making jokes or throwing off about Maori and the #taniwha topic. It was mentions of the article I saw in my personal tweetstream. Where I hit the skids was in being curious enough to want to look up people's personal comments and opinions online in various blogs and websites.

Ko Raakai Paaka te tangata
Ko Takitimu te waka
Ko Waitirohia te awa
Ko Moumoukai te maunga
Ko Manutai te marae
Ko Ngati Raakai Paaka te hapu
Ko Ngati Kahungunu te iwi
Ko Tosca Mihi-O-Te-Rangi Waerea toku ingoa

Technically, the above is my pepeha, and it names my rangatira, canoe, river, mountain, marae, hapu and iwi. My father's iwi are Ngati Kahungunu (Nuhaka) and Kai Tahu (Kaikoura) and his tupuna were people such as Kahungunu, Rongokako and Tamateapokaiwhenua. I grew up hearing stories about how Kahungunu 'won' Rongomaiwahine (paua and farting - yeah, we're classy like that), and how Rongokako was either a giant or capable of taking giant strides (like, seriously giant strides), and how Tamateapokaiwhenua climbed a mountain and played a nose flute to his beloved (longest place name in the world: Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateaturipukakapikimaungahorongukapokaiwhenuakitanatahu? Yeah, that's my tupuna). My mother's iwi are Ngai Takoto (Waimanoni) and Ngati Porou (Wharekahika) and her tupuna were people such as Ikanui, Ngaruhe and Tuwhakatere. In non-Maori terms this probably doesn't mean much. But to Maori, to me, this is at the heart of everything that I am. That includes ghosts. And that includes taniwha. This is my world view, this is my norm, and yet I almost feel like I should apologise for it. Especially in light of the taniwha on the tracks articles. Please don't make me link to them here. Go find them yourself. There's no shortage.

I think I must've been the only person who didn't know what the taniwha in-joke was about. A colleague flicked me a link to one of many articles online and I winced as soon as I saw the title. A quick Google-fu session and my worst fears were confirmed. Apparently, this is what the general public thinks 'we' (Maori) want (because, hey, all brownies can just be lumped in together, right, bro?):

money (it's a ransom demand)

to impede the Supercity's economic progress

money (again)

everyone to believe mythical monsters are real

money (still)

to impede national progress

money (moar moar moar, right?)

status

money (this is the bestest/onlyest way to get it from the taxpayer)

to develop an apartheid system in NZ (because we have rights and privileges other NZers don't have)

money (it's all about the handout)

to make NZ a laughing stock

I'm fully aware that by objecting to the laughter and comments that somebody is going to say I'm just being politically correct. Well, one man's pc is another man's oppression and, right now, I'm feeling pretty effing oppressed. And insignificant. My mum (who's here for the night) said to me, 'Why do you let yourself get caught up in that?' And the answer is, 'Because it's 2011. I thought we were a little more enlightened. I thought the Maori world view was widely accepted.' And then, 'Do you think the people I work with think this, too?' Sobering.

I really didn't think it was possible for me to feel as culturally low as I did when Don Brash gave his infamous Orewa speech. Sucks to be wrong. Certainly sucks to be me. So, thank you, New Zealand, for making my cultural beliefs, my world view and my identity the butt of a national corporate joke. It was awesome. I can't wait to see what y'all have planned for tomorrow.

Query: Is it racist when you don't know how narrow your view of the world is?

'Nothing is so fatiguing...

2011-06-08T22:57:00.006+12:00

...as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task.'
~ William James

In which Tosca apologises (albeit briefly) for being a slacker tarty face and not updating more often and promises faithfully to do so from now on. Or something like it.

Dear beloved blog with the rather unprepossessing and longwinded title of 'confessions of a southside catatonic chataholic,'

I have not forgotten you, I swear. Soon, very soon, I hope to love you longtime with library, family, work and book related posts that display my charm and wit. Failing that, let's aim for showcasing my (sometimes erratic) ability to conjugate verbs and construct (somewhat) cohesive sentences and take it from there.

Peace out,
- tosca

'A life lived in fear...

2011-04-11T19:34:00.011+12:00

...is a life half lived.'
~ Strictly Ballroom starring Paul Mercurio and Tara Morice (yes, this is how low I've sunk, quoting lines from one of my alltime fav movies - sue me!)

In which Tosca blathers on endlessly and aimlessly about her hopes for her job and describes why she let fear stop her from personally blogging. Or something much like it.

I have let my personal blog slide. Badly. Fear made me do it. And it is fear that makes me pick it up again. Not fear that I will suck badly at it because, very possibly, I do already. I started this blog because I was on a learning and discovery journey and needed somewhere to record that. Over time this became my area to think ideas out loud, to reflect on what I've learnt and, really, to put my epiphany down in words (should I be enlightened enough to have one). The fact that sometimes it gets read is wholly accidental. For the last three months, though, I have been afraid to blog. I was afraid that I would get in trouble if I wrote about the amalgamated organisation I find myself working in (even if it wasn't negative). I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to reflect on my job without it being held against me. I was afraid that people who knew my official work title would judge me by my personal blog, tweetstream, Facebook page and imagine that that was all there was to me. I was afraid that people would follow me/read me for the wrong reasons. And then, just the other day, I realised that I'd forgotten how to enjoy exploring whatever catches my interest and then sharing it. I had let myself be silenced...by myself. Work didn't have to do it (should it have wanted to) because I did it to myself first. Once I saw that, I realised also that fear is the worst reason to stop doing something and so, in an effort not to be any of those things I listed above, I have started again. On a hopeful note, I think. I want to keep this blog as varied as it has always been with roughly the same mix of stupid/important as it has always been without this space becoming one great, big Cranky McRanty Pants post. This is a time of great upheaval and change for me so, naturally enough, I'd want to talk about it, but by the same token I didn't want to make it seem like it's all crap. Because it's not. We're all still exploring where we fit in the organisation and finding out how we progress from here. I'm still trying to see it as a big adventure and, admittedly, some days it's harder than others, but I imagine that's normal. Or as normal as it gets right now. And it won't be that way for long.

I've been thinking quite about a bit lately about what I hope to see in this new organisation and I finally pinned some stuff down. I hope that we encourage and foster the spirit of play and experimentation. I hope that we actively seek feedback from customers because we genuinely care about what they have to say. I hope that we engage with our customers not just with carefully-crafted marketing-speak but with honest and off-the-cuff responses. I hope that it will be ok to make mistakes. I hope that we encourage our staff to be fearless (in a way that I haven't been in the last few months). I hope that we have personality by the bucketload. For the most part I try really hard not to look back at what Manukau Libraries *was* because that time is over and gone, but I felt that we did these things rather well. I was given room to play and experiment. I was encouraged to seek feedback because I really did care. I engaged with our customers wherever they chose to contact me. I was encouraged to make mistakes and to learn from them and to share them with our staff (one hilarious if somewhat embarrassing case in point). I was fearless in my pursuit of making our library services so much easier/better for customers in an online sense. I was encouraged to imbue our organisation's online presence with personality, humanity and humility (with a huge side order of 'quirk' factor). I'd like to think I did that. It is much on my mind lately. I really hope that we take these elements into the new organisation with us because, now more than ever, this is an exciting time to build something new, to build something great, to build something worthwhile, to build something solid. Most organisations would think that now is an ideal time to employ conservative fear but I hope that *we* do not. I hope that we will not hold back because we are afraid of making mistakes. I hope that we will not hold back because we are afraid that if we call ourselves the experts we are meant to be we may fall short of the mark. I hope that we will not hold back because we are afraid of rocking the boat. I hope we will not hold back because our opinions and policies may be considered unpopular. I hope that we will not hold back because we cannot control the way we look to the general public. I hope that we will take risks because a life lived in fear...

"It is what you read when you don't have to...

2011-01-25T22:56:00.009+13:00

...that determines what you will be when you can't help it."
~ Oscar Wilde (did anyone have better quotes than Wilde?)

When I don't have to read, I read fanfic and sometimes confuse it with the actual tv show it comes from. Made up fan stories about a made up tv show. Confusing make-believe with make-believe? Uh-oh. Maybe, I'm reading a little too much of it. But how can I tell? When is too much fanfic enough? Is it when you reach that point where you find yourself getting confused between what happened in fanfic and what happened in the episodes? Or is it that moment when you realise you've read more fanfic than library books in the last 5 months? Or is it when you find yourself speaking in fanfic comment style to your siblings (I told my sister that I was 'Ded of hotness.' Needless to say, she said, 'You're a dork.')? Or is it when you see all tv shows in fanfic terms (is it normal that I saw Blaine/Glee's 'Baby, it's cold outside' as 'dubcon')? Or is time to call it a day when you find yourself crying over a 50 chapter long story where Jensen dies and leaves Jared desolate, even though you know he's alive and they're both happily married to women? I have done all of those. So...when was enough again?

What is fanfiction? I guess, in short, they're stories that feature characters from movies, tv, books etc., and are written by fans rather than the creators. My book mojo was broken for months and during this time I watched craploads of good tv, bad tv and even worse tv and I adored every single minute of it. It was during one of my Supernatural marathons (good tv, by the way) that I accidentally read my very first fanfiction . Being a newbie, I had no idea that PWP stood for 'Porn Without Plot' or 'Plot? What Plot?' and, while I can't say that it was quite what I was looking for, I did try again with a few other general stories. And I really liked them. Because I wasn't sure what half of the terms meant I spent a very long time reading a lot of what probably amounts to fanfic porn. A quick chat with Natalie, though, and I had it sorted (she doesn't read the smutty stuff, by the way). As a result of my initial filter-less foray, I find that I am now conversant in terms such as: slash, NC-17, dubcon, kilt!kink, RPS, Dean/Castiel, PWP, Wincest, wing!kink, angst, RPF schmoop and much more. And I have love love loved everything I've read. Sure, some of them were incredibly (seriously, incredibly times infinity) bad, but I envy the authors their enthusiasm.

I have learnt two things from reading screeds of fanfiction:

1) I find it hard to remember that someone's re-telling of an episode (with a better ending than Kripke/Gamble have been giving it lately) is not real. These stories are not missing chapters of Supernatural. Jensen and Jared are not in the closet. Sam and Dean do not have an inappropriate relationship. Jensen did not die a long and protracted death. These stories are make believe. Even if a little part of me wishes they weren't.
2) Fanfic - some fanfic - is little more than people's sexual fantasies out there for everyone to read. I wonder if that's liberating?

So...am I at that point where enough fanfic is enough already? I'm way beyond that point. It was enough about a hundred stories ago. Am I going to ease up on it? Probably not. As long as people keep writing, I'll keep reading. Good stuff, bad stuff, worse stuff. Stuff. I'll just have to get better at keeping the fanfic separate from what I watch. Somehow. And maybe lay off the RPS (real person slash) and RPF (real person fiction) O.O

P.S. If you'd like recommendations of Supernatural fanfic (the good, the bad, the downright dubious) let me know. I have links galore!

No quote for this post - can't be bothered :)

2011-01-20T23:09:00.003+13:00

I have been very slack of late with updating my blog. Work is...work. Well, it feels like work which means I'm having to find things in it that I can look forward to. I've always been of the opinion that when you no longer enjoy it, perhaps it's time to move on and I'm not ready to move. Yet. I'm in need of humour this month more than ever so I've got a two-in-one post: funny romance book titles and a totally camp clip featuring the ever funny (and dashedly good looking) John Barrowman. I HEART HIM MUCH.

I'm a sucker for romance titles that tickle my funnybone and will request any and all manner of books that make me giggle. This list below is nothing more than a few that caught my eye on our new (and combined) book lists for this month (and that I have since requested):
* Daddy devastating by Delores Fossen
* Untamed Italian, blackmailed innocent by Jacqueline Baird
* Covert agent's virgin affair by Linda Conrad
* Mistletoe and the lost stiletto by Liz Fielding
* The Italian's blushing gardener by Christina Hollis
* Forbidden or for bedding? by Julia James
* Medusa's sheik by Cindy Dees
* Savior in the saddle by Delores Fossen

Unintentionally funny book title that is actually 3-in-1 and somebody forgot to put in punctuation:
* Marrying Captain Jack Bought for the harem Secret heiress

Video clip of the week - totally camp humour starring John Barrowman from the show Al Murray's Personality Disorder that had me in stitches. Not for children O.O

'You can't deny laughter...

2011-01-13T17:30:00.005+13:00

...when it comes, it plops down in your favorite chair and stays as long as it wants.
~ Stephen King, 'Hearts in Atlantis'

Laughter is most welcome this week. It has been a brutal return to work, and a killer of a kickstart to my new year. Finding one's voice in the new library system is an adventure. That's all I'm saying at this point. It's Thursday! This is a short post. Totally *points* this is it. Today is my video/image clip of the week post, which comes to you courtesy of contacts on Twitter (please don't ask me what Twitter is...I may have to hurt you if you do). I'm not going to bother to introduce the clip. Watch it and all will become clear. I'm not sure if it's good or bad that as someone who has owned 3 Blackberries in my lifetime (until I switched to the iPhone 4) I understand everything they were talking about in the clip. What's more, I winced and chortled my way through the whole thing.

I heart you Enfield and Corbett :)

'You can never go home again...

2011-01-09T15:57:00.007+13:00

...but the truth is you can never leave home, so it's all right.'
~ Maya Angelou

It's Tuesday and, ordinarily, this would be a 'My family & other animals' post where I relate some terribly funny (albeit embarassing) story about my insane whanau, but that's not the case for this one. Instead, it's a semi-heartfelt one. I know! I'm shocked, too :) This year, 2011, is a year of homecoming for me. And quite unintentional, too. Sometimes stuff happens when it happens for a damn good reason that is always beyond my understanding.

I'm Maori and I can say, hand on heart, that one of the most confusing questions you can ask me is, "Where are you from?" Figuring out where 'home' is can be...challenging. One of the best, and worst, parts of being Maori is that I am from where my parents' fathers are from - Nuhaka in the Hawkes Bay area and Waimanoni in the far north. It also means that I'm from where my parents' mothers are from - Nelson in the South Island and Hicks Bay on the East Coast. It means that I am also from where their parents are from and their parents before them and so on and so forth. Or back, as the case may be? IYou can see now how it can get kinda confusing when I refer to home. Home is also where I was born - Wellington, and where I live now - Auckland. Whenever non-Maori say to me, "Where are you from?" I'm never quite sure how to respond and get flustered and spend ages trying to figure out which answer is appropriate or relevant or wanted o_O

This time around, though, I know. In late February my dad and I are taking a trip home to Nuhaka for the first time in years. A couple of my first-cousins are wanting to plan a family reunion and I volunteered (with a bit of pressure from dad) my assistance. Cousin Tania thought it would be a great idea to have our first planning meeting in Nuhaka, where our grandfather, George Nepia Waerea, was from. Dad's decided he's coming with me (omg - hours cooped up in my two-door with his crappy music - HALP) so this is our first return journey home in years. I'm kinda looking forward to it. Bad music aside eek.

This weekend just gone one of my aunts on my mother's side updated her Facebook status with a message about how much she missed her younger brother, Mossie. It reminded me that when the parental unit were down for Christmas mum had brought a whole bunch of old photos with her. Some of them were pics of a summer holiday in Hicks Bay dated 1979. I was four years old and, in one of them, was with Mossie. I felt a pang of nostalgia and realised that the last time I saw him was roughly 10 years ago at my great grandmother's funeral and by then he was married with children. So many years had passed since I'd left Wellington permanently and we didn't know each other anymore. I didn't make an effort to catch up with him then so news of his death was a huge surprise. A sad one. This Christmas I'll be going home to the East Coast for Mossie's unveiling. Decidedly a sad event but also, I think, a chance to catch up with family before too many years pass me by again before it's too late.

I'm looking at my calendar and wondering how I can maybe fit in a visit to the far north and to the South Island. I may not be the same person I was when I was there last, but I am going home. And maybe taking some of the 'now home' back with me. Maybe...

'This nice and subtle happiness of reading..

2010-12-07T21:17:00.007+13:00

... this joy not chilled by age, this polite and unpunished vice, this selfish, serene life-long intoxication.
~ Logan Pearsall Smith

I'm late for my Monday post because...well, just because. Take your pick: I was lazy, tired, had a toothache, had an earache, had a headache, all of the above because they were all tied up in a wisdom tooth I'm too chicken to get yanked >.< So here's my Monday 'What I'm reading' update. It's kind of a quick one, though, because my book mojo is still broken and, as a result, I'm not getting much done that isn't sent to me to review for SFFANZ (Science Fiction Association New Zealand). So...what am I reading?

Title: Death most definite (image courtesy of GoodReads.com)
Author: Trent Jamieson
Publisher: Orbit, 2010
Synopsis: "Steve works in the family firm. He's a Pomp - tasked with easing spirits from this dimension to the next after death. And he's kind of OK with that, until someone high up the corporate hierarchy makes a bid to be Australia's new Regional Death. This means killing all of the current Death's staff. After his parents, relatives and pretty much every other Pomp he ever knew has been killed, Steve is left to make a reluctant stand. But to do this he must stay alive..." -- Publisher description. (This is book 1 in the 'Death works' series).

Title: Managing death (image courtesy of GoodReads.com)
Author: Trent Jamieson
Publisher: Orbit, 2010
Synopsis: Steven and Lissa may have stopped a Regional Apocalypse, but that's only the beginning. People are dying in the brutal summer heat. Stirrers are on the rise as their dark god draws near. And someone is trying to kill Steven de Selby. (This is book 2 in the 'Death works' series).

Title: Nightshade (image courtesy of GoodReads.com)
Author: Andrea Cremer
Publisher: Atombooks, 2010
Synopsis: Calla and Ren have been raised knowing it is their destiny to mate with one another and rule over their shape-shifting wolf pack, but when a human boy arrives and vies for Calla's heart, she is faced with a decision that could change her whole world.

One last thing...
I attended the Bon Jovi concert on Sunday night just gone and it was mother krunkin' awesome. They've still got it :) Also Jon Bon Jovi touched Merrin's hand :D It's true - he did. Unfortunately, the son of a gun ran past too fast for me to snap a picture so all I got was grabby hands reaching out o_O I don't know who was screaming louder when he touched her: Merrin, myself or Renee. It was a great night and my head was ringing for hours afterward and I felt like I was 11 years old all over again and listening to them on tape for the very first time. Good days :) I do have a whole heap of pictures I snapped throughout the night and you can find those on my Facebook page (they've been zapped through Instagram to flashy them up a bit) and I also posted them to Twitpic. Totally shallow of me but I think Jon looked as good today, at 48, as he did in 1986 when 'Slippery when wet' was first released.

'Sex on television can't hurt you...

2010-11-26T01:23:00.005+13:00

...unless you fall off.'
~ Author unknown

I found my inner-cougar earlier this evening and I feel quite dirty. And it's all Mr. 13's fault. That isn't nearly as dodgy as it initially sounds, I assure you. Or at least, I don't think it is. It's Thursday/Friday and this is my video clip of the week. For totally pervy reasons. Hey, at least I'm honest about it!

Mr. 13, Markhiem, is a total Gleek (Glee fan) and doesn't care who knows it. He loves to watch the show just for the music alone. He's really not so fond of the talking bits. In fact, I spent most of the night flicking back and forth between performances. You would not believe the number of times I've heard Sam sing 'Billionaire' tonight. He's been so heads down busy lately with dancing lessons for his year 8 graduation dinner and singing practice that he's managed to miss all of the current season's episodes. Tonight, because we haven't spent time together for a while, I thought it'd be nice to catch up on what he hasn't been able to see, so that's what we did. And it was in episode 6, 'Never been kissed' (where Kurt's first kiss is not quite what he - or me, for that matter - pictured), where I discovered my inner-cougar. The Dalton Academy Warblers' lead singer, Blaine? Wow. That's all I can say. Wow :P And oh *sigh* he made my heart go pitty pat when he sang 'Teenage dream' and kinda sang it at Kurt. And that bit where he held Kurt's hand? At the beginning? Awww, so cute. But I'm slightly conflicted. Is my inner-cougar interested because Blaine is so gosh-darn pretty and sings so beautifully OR is it because the possible slash angle of a little m/m (however benign considering they're high school students on a television show) excites me? I suspect it may be both. Which reminds me! I must perform some Google-Fu to see if there's any Kurt/Blaine slash fanfic :) Anyway, roundabout story behind my video clip of the week pick, but here is the Dalton Academy Warblers singing Katy Perry's 'Teenage dream.' He's so cute. Gorgeous. Seriously, how could you not agree :P

'The family...

2010-11-16T23:01:00.008+13:00

... is one of nature's masterpieces.'
~ George Santayana, The Life of Reason

Sometimes, though, they might better resemble Edvard Munch's 'The Scream' :) My whanau are the ultimate soap opera. Things get thrown, insults are hurled - and that's just me. When you put all of us together it's anybody's guess as to how things will shake down. It's never boring and the bonus is that they are the milk and cookies of my Tuesday post :P It's Tuesday and this is a 'My family and other animals post' or, you know, 'Stuff about my insane family.' So you get one family-related post and a bonus success story relating to the new Auckland Libraries '1 city. 55 libraries. All yours' idea :)

Remy is my nephew. As in Remy Etienne LeBeau aka Gambit from X-Men. Reme (rrrrrrrrroll the R) is Maori for lamb (those damn transliterations). The two are totally different. Unless...you're my 6 year old niece. Tiana-Jade, a sibling's daughter, is a kohanga/kura kaupapa baby so she thinks and talks in Maori. She's fluent in English but sometimes that doesn't always guarantee that what we say is how she hears it. What we were saying as 'Remy' she was hearing as a clumsy pronunciation of the rolling 'R' and is absolutely convinced that Remy the Pooh is actually named Reme...for the Lamb of God o_O My sibling isn't particularly religious (although we were all raised Mormon, god help us all) so I'm not sure how Tiana-Jade would end up knowing/thinking about Jesus in any way. Eep. I couldn't help it though, I almost fell off my chair laughing when she greeted him with, 'Hello, Reme!' I've never seen a more rotund lamb in my life!

Success story! A lot of our customers have taken to the idea of requesting titles from across all 7 areas (Franklin, Papakura, Manukau, Auckland, Waitakere, North Shore, Rodney) to heart :) In fact one gentleman requested 400 graphic novels and they all came in pretty much at once. Now, instinctively, I heard a lot of people moan just a little and say things like, 'You can only issue 35 at a time so why bother?' or 'You can't read them all at once so why would you do that?' and, once, even 'All of that staff time for books they won't be able to read in time...' and I'm here to say YOU'RE ALL WRONG. He not only requested them, he reads 35 of them a night. THIRTY-FIVE. I think our frontline staff can definitely count that as one extremely satisfied customer. I hope they celebrate that success :P

'Even bad books are books...

2010-11-15T22:22:00.008+13:00

...and therefore sacred.'
~ Gunter Grass

This week I'd be happy if I could find a bad book nevermind a lifechanging one! My book mojo is broken. Or maybe I wasn't ready to be back reading, yet. I took a 6 week break because everything I tried was like so much white noise. Is my book mojo permanently broken? I'm not sure. I hope not. Ordinarily Monday is my 'on the shelf' post, which is just a basic rundown of what I'm reading/watching at the moment but I'm a total #fail in that respect this week. A few times I've tried to crack open a book and have gotten as far as the first chapter or the intro and then - nothing. No spark, no hook, no magic. I am a book-deadzone.

I am listening to an Overdrive audiobook, though, which is unusual for me. The whole cd audiobook experience, as I've blogged in the past, has left me either disillusioned or in hysterics. The use of curse words sounds so blunt I wince and then start giggling or the voice of the reader is so monotonous I zone out and, before I know, the book is over and I have NO idea what happened. Seriously. So what am I listening to? Louis L'Amour's 'Big country, volume 3' of course! I heart him. I think I'll check out Lonigan next time :)

I did try to get into Cooking for geeks : real science, great hacks, and good food by Jeff Potter but it resembled a science textbook so much it scared me and so I quickly shut it and left it on the holds shelf where it will probably sit until my hold expires. I'm a bad book borrower like that o_O

While I'm not reading anything myself, I have seen firsthand that this is not a problem the rest of the city is experiencing. I read somewhere that since Nov 1st something like 21,000 requests were processed for Auckland Libraries customers. How awesome (not to mention scary) is that? That whole '1 city. 55 libraries. All yours' is being taken seriously and is working. Yay. Although I do sympathise with our very tired-looking staff eep. I'm glad that our customers have not lost their book mojo but...you know 'How Stella got her groove back'? Well, when do I get mine back...?

'A sense of humor... is needed armor...

2010-11-11T22:07:00.006+13:00

...Joy in one's heart and some laughter on one's lips is a sign that the person down deep has a pretty good grasp of life.'
~ Hugh Sidey

I don't know that I do have a pretty good grasp of life. I do know, however, that after a day at home feeling blah and ugh and generally wiped out thanks to a bug, I'm more than ready for a bit of a laugh. And if your humour doesn't mind the odd use of a curse word (or twenty) then you'll probably like the two website links below. It's Thursday and, ordinarily, this would be a video clip of the week post BUT I haven't seen anything that I like recently. Other than a few music videos which will probably appeal to nobody but me, anyway :) Which means you get link love instead. Suck it up and take it like a man!
[Image courtesy of BluntCard.com]

Website links:

BluntCard.com - thanks to Kelly for the link :) These curse-laden cards are the kind that I've *always* dreamed about giving and receiving! Probably more the giving than the receiving, to be honest o_O And the image above *points up* is merely one such example of their e/paper cards. Imagine handing those out for birthdays, oh my!

DamnYouAutoCorrect.com - thanks to secondchanceblog for the link :) I swear to goshness I almost peed my pants I was laughing so hard. ANYONE who has an iPhone 4 can understand what a phenomenal pain in the arse the autocorrect function is >.< The image I've chosen pretty much sums up my unsolicited opinion of autocorrect. Swearing and all.

[Image courtesy of DamnYouAutoCorrect.com]

'Like a kid in a candy store...

2010-11-10T23:13:00.017+13:00

...It's an odd candy store, obviously...'
~ Jake Gyllenhaal

Our new catalogue is an odd candy store indeed and these days I find myself stuck for choice for interesting titles/covers, 'cause wow have I found some great ones since 1st Nov 2010! I'm not going to make any judgement calls about the selection below. In fact, I'll say nothing other than they caught my eye. This is a List of 5 (not a Top 5 because I'm sure I'll find more by this time next week) of books I found while cruising our catalogue. Honestly? There was no system to how I found them. I just did. And all of them I'm going to request purely out of interest/curiosity. All items are requestable via the Auckland Libraries catalogue :)

How to shit in the woods: an environmentally sound approach to a lost art by Kathleen Meyer
This updated edition provides a guide to the art of "going" out-of-doors. It deals with the whens, wheres, how, and what-nows, with chapters such as "Anatomy of a crap" and "For women only: How not to pee in your boots". It includes information on how to take waste home, for rock climbers, kayakers and others dealing with rock-hard and fragile ecosystems, and is illustrated by black and white drawings. [Amazon.co.uk]
[Image courtesy of GoodReads.com]

Get your tongue out of my mouth, I'm kissing you goodbye by Cynthia Heimel
Cynthia Heimel turns her attention to Hollywood and the LA riots. She explains sexual harassment and why she would rather be a lesbian. She tears the men's movement to shreds - kindly and sincerely. And, of course, there are the anecdotes, observations and advice on love, sex and dating.
[Image courtesy of GoodReads.com]

If you want closure in your relationship, start with your legs : a guide to understanding men by Big Boom
This guide will show women not only how to find true love with Mr. Right, but also how to avoid Mr. Never-Gonna-Happen, Mr. Infidelity, and a variety of other Mr. Wrongs.
[Image courtesy of GoodReads.com]

Knitting with dog hair : a woof-to-warp guide to making hats, sweaters, mittens, and much more by Kendall Crolius and Anne Black Montgomery
Learn to recycle Rover into beautiful garments and accessories as the authors teach you this wacky new spin on an old craft. Knitting with Dog Hair is the definitive guide to putting on the dog!
[Image courtesy of GoodReads.com]

You'll never make love in this town again by Robin, Liza, Linda, and Tiffany as told to Jennie Louise Frankel, Terrie Maxine Frankel, and Joanne Parrent ; preface by Lois Lee ; editor's introduction by Joanne Parren
Wild, graphic, sometimes funny, ultimately sad -- this is the book that had Hollywood hiding behind closed doors and "no comment". Four beautiful young women tell the stories of the famous, the sexy, the rich, and the sadistic. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title. [Amazon.com review]
[Image courtesy of GoodReads.com]

'We should read...

2010-11-09T22:30:00.007+13:00

...to give our souls a chance to luxuriate.'

~ Henry Miller

Holy kranglebags, Batman, you're late with your Monday post! Yes, yes I am and I make no apologies for it whatsoever :) It's Tuesday but I'm going to blog a Monday post and you can prepare yourself for a shock. I'm going to keep it short. It's true. I am. One update about what I'm currently reading, one update about what I'm going to read and a reflection about work. Choosing two books from about roughly 20 that I'm trying to read *gulps* what a mission. My book sabbatical is over and I'm back reading with a vengeance.

Monday: On the shelf - what I'm reading
The Replacement by Brenna Yovanoff
Teen novel:Sixteen-year-old Mackie Doyle knows that he replaced a human child when he was just an infant, and when a friend's sister disappears he goes against his family's and town's deliberate denial of the problem to confront the beings that dwell under the town, tampering with human lives. -- Publisher description.

Came across a small write up about Yovanoff's 'The Replacement' and fell in like with the creepily atmospheric cover and made a purchase suggestion for it. Am only through the first chapter so far but am liking it very much. It's to do with changelings so it's a dark faerie tale. Have always been half-fascinated with the idea of changelings. Probably because I hoped that I was one because hey, what else could explain my weird family, right? Over time I've come to realise that maybe it's me that's the odd one out o_O

I'm about to start reading 'Cooking for geeks: real science, great hacks, and good food' by Jeff Potter. The basics of cooking as a part of a food hacking experiment? The synopsis caught my interest which is just as well because the cover doesn't do it for me. Remember, I'm shallow and I'm all about the pretty.

It's a truly weird time work-wise at the moment because we are now, of course, 7 regions in one city and, as is to be expected, we're all kind of feeling our way. Trying not to break things as we go. A part of that experience is forging new relationships. Another part of that is compromise. And a gosh darn huge part of it all is constant change. I keep telling myself, 'It's not the change you hate. It's the parts of it you can't control.' :)

Is it possible to be professionally informal? Or is that an oxymoron? It was recently brought to my attention how laidback I am in my work writing style whether it's for Facebook, Twitter, blogging, website, email or newsletters. I'm not much of a one for taking the safe road in social media. I'm of the opinion that if you're going to do it, there can be no half measures. I admit that sometimes I have next to no filter *guilty look* but I honestly believe that if you're going to meet customers in social media, do it in a natural voice. It is the perfect forum to be engaging, to be honest, to be enthusiastic, to provoke a reaction, to ask your customers what they want, to be controversial, to encourage your staff to explore (and be constructively critical), to be opinionated and to provide advice. I don't apologise for my style. I think that to do so is to feel that I should also apologise for our organisation having 700+ Facebook followers, 800+ Twitter followers, 300+ work blog hits a week, 1000+ book reviews on our website and honest-to-god newsletter subscribers who actually write in to tell us what they think. But I don't, however, know everything and so I'm conflicted about it. Hence the question. Is it possible to be professionally informal?

[Image taken from GoodReads.com]

'I don't think today's younger audience...

2010-11-04T20:32:00.004+13:00

...would even know what 1920s musicals were like.'
~ Julie Andrews

It's Thursday and this is my image/video clip of the week post. I promise that it's going to be a quick, fly-by post. Honest :) And it comes to you via Natalie (or @natz2d2). She is the bomb diggity :0) Natalie flicked out a YouTube link on twitter last Friday that I totally missed but would love to have seen at the time. It would've been a nice way to have ended the working week. I think I missed it because I was, as usual, blathering on in my own tweetstream about nothing in particular o_O Once I watched it, though, I just had to share it/torture you with it.

Thanks to my mother I am a Sound of Music fan. I used to think it would be seven kinds of awesome if I could play Maria in a school play or with a local theatre. That opportunity never arose (probably because I never looked for it d'oh). The Sound of Music (and Gigi, weirdly) were the start of a lifelong love affair with musicals of all sorts. It's probably not surprising that operas don't just make me cry, I howl and sob like nobody's business. It's quite embarrassing. I've tried to pass on my love of musicals to my nephews/niece but uhh they're not having a bar of it. Not at all. Or at least not for the older musicals. Freakin' High School Musical etc. yes *groans* Slightly gutted. That didn't, however, detract from my enjoying Natalie's link: Oprah talks to the original movie cast of The Sound of Music on her show - the first interview they've done as a group since they were in the movie 45 years ago. This is the first of three clips that made up that show. These are links to parts two and three. I kinda thought that Christopher Plummer is still as handsome today, at 80, as he was then. Even if he sounds like he was a bit of a boozer and a lech LOL Enjoy! I did :)

'I just remembered that I'm absent-minded...

2010-11-03T23:33:00.006+13:00

...Wait, I mean I've lost my mind, I can't find it."
- Eminem in the song 'Come on everybody'

Yes. It's true. I like Eminem. Deal with it :) It's my first week back blogging and already I forgot (hence the 'absent-minded' quote) to post last night *rolls eyes* So today you get a twofer (two-for-one): Tuesday - My Family & Other Animals (things my family say or do that are funny, silly, downright stupid etc.) and Wednesday - What the...?! - funny, stupid, oddball book titles/blurbs etc. So...theoretically, twice the goodness. Or badness depending on which side of the fence you're on o_O I'm desperately bashing away at the keyboard to get this published so I don't gotta add a Thursday post with this one, too LOL Bad Tosca >.< So for your viewing pleasure, here's a mish mash of Mr. 6, the rozzers (or the police, as we know them), three husbands that grew on a tree LOL Read on! You'll see what I mean :0)

My family and other animals ( or: things my family do/say that just beg to be shared)
Last night about 11:55pm I was just about to retire to my room with a book that I'm reviewing for SFFANZ (join, people, join NOW, you know you want to & seriously, I get a list, I choose which books I want, and they send them to me to review - thanks to Hachette - and I get to keep them - I LOVE THEM) when I hear a bang at the door. I'm in my pyjamas, my hair is standing on end and I have on slippers (don't judge me, damn you) and apprehensively answer the front door. But not before arming myself with my iPhone so I can take a picture of whoever's at the door in case I get murdered and they need to identify my body. Seriously LOL So I yank back the curtain with my phone held high ready to take a snapshot - and see 2 very mild mannered policemen o_O Fearing someone in the whanau is in hospital or, worse, dead, I open the door and say, tenatively, 'Hello...?' Turns out one of Mr. 6's classmates didn't go home last night and so the police were door knocking on his friend's houses and speaking to the children. Which meant waking Mr. 6 up at midnight...have you ever tried to wake up a 6 year old at midnight? IMPOSSIBLE. After 5 mins of tugging, prodding, poking, cajoling and, then, outright threats, out he comes rubbing his eyes to stop dead in his tracks when he sees the policemen. By this time his mum's awake and overseeing the process (ie. prodding Mr. 6 when he falls asleep LOL) so I head back to my room. I take my hat off to the coppers - they persevered and managed to get another lead (ie. another friend's name who may have seen little Josh as well) and, somewhere along the line, found the young boy and returned him safe and sound. Whereupon he was probably grounded for life :) One particular part of the question/answer session with Mr. 6 had me in hysterics and made me ask myself, 'How often do the fuzz need to interrogate 6 year olds 'cause...their method needs work?'

Mr. Policeman: And do you remember any other friends that were there, Kalani?
Mr. 6: Yes.
Mr. Policeman: Who?
Mr. 6: David.
Mr. Policeman: Do you know David's place of residence?
Mr. 6: *silent - turns to his mum* HUH?

GORGEOUS! When they asked Kalani to jump in the car with them to show them where David lives Mr. 6 did balk at that.

Mr. Policeman: Would you like to come with us in the car to show us where David lives?
Mr. 6: No.

LOL Oh boy. In the end he did get in the car and show them *rolls eyes*

Wednesday: What the...?! - funny, stupid, oddball book titles/blurbs
Was hanging out in subversive pockets of our catalogue and saw this book synopsis which made me go, 'WTF?!' and burst out laughing.

Title: The husband tree
Author: Mary Connealy
Synopsis: "Standing over her third no-account husband's grave, Belle Tanner makes a vow--no more men. Now all she needs to do is get her cattle to market before winter sets in. But there's no one around except the drifter Silas Harden, and Belle is such a poor judge of men that she can't decide if he is worth hiring on. Silas just escaped a shotgun wedding--only to lose his money, his ranch, and his pride. Although he's determined never to get tangled up with womenfolk again, Belle and her four daughters seem to bring out the protector in him. And he can't seem to stop kissing Belle senseless. When a group of cowpokes, along with a white woman raised by the Shoshone, show up along the drive, Belle has her hands full. Can she keep her oldest daughter and Glowing Sun away from no-good cowhands--and herself out of Silas's arms? Will anyone get through this treacherous cattle drive unscathed and unhitched?"--P. [4] of cover.

Her THIRD NO-ACCOUNT HUSBAND? Eh? Say what?! o_O As if that isn't bad enough - there's a husband tree? *falls down dead* As a dyed in the wool commitment-phobe that truly scares the bejeebers out of me :)

'Books support us in our solitude...

2010-11-01T22:33:00.006+13:00

...and keep us from being a burden to ourselves.'
~ Jeremy Collier

Well, actually, books keep me from being a burden to everyone else :) It's true! If I didn't have books I'd be in your space annoying you ten times as much as I usually do. So put *that* in your pipe and choke on it (no, I do mean choke on it, not smoke it). Boy howdy! It's been an age and a half since I last blogged. Not because I haven't wanted to, but more because I haven't had a chance to. In the last few months we have closed up mum & dad's place (they're living in the wilds of Taipa for some reason that totally eludes me), I temporarily moved in with a sibling for 3 months while looking for a place and then moved again. This time permanently. So mother krunkin' glad to have left the hood behind. Remy the Pooh grows exponentially. I kid you not - the kids rolls have rolls for crying out loud. See pic. What'd I tell you?

This post is my unusual Monday: On the shelf - what I'm reading post but I'm warning you now - don't expect to be stunned by my list of titles. I took a month long sabbatical from reading and frittered it away catching up on all my favourite tv shows in a series of marathons. I'm not kidding you. It was touch and go there for a moment with my sanity (more if I'm honest). I would spend 3 or 4 days frantically watching an entire season of Supernatural (I heart Dean - still, yes, even though Gamble/Kripe have written weird shit into season 6), reflect on it for a half a day and then dive in to another season. I remember one particular day when Logan and Sonny came to visit and I was camped out on the couch complete with duvet, crazy hair, wild eyes and unbrushed teeeth. Needless to say they backed out of there pretty smart ;)

Aaaaanyway, back to the topic. Books. In particular, what I'm reading. I've decided to expand it slightly (because, hey, it's my party and I'll cry if I want to, right?) and add in a dvd title. Or two. Ok, two. Max. I swear. So here's my Top 5 List of Books/DVDs I'm Reading/Watching at the Moment. Speaking of, I should probably update our work Top 5 blog, too, but it's been full on madness with the interim library site and that's all I'm going to say about that. Seriously. It is. The list!

5. Riding on instinct by Jaci Burton. "Department of Justice agent Shadoe Grayson is out to prove she's no rookie, and eagerly accepts her first undercover assignment at a strip club in New Orleans. Working with the Wild Riders, a government agency of bad-boy bikers, her goal is to expose a corrupt DEA agent. Standing in her way is arrogant and smoking-hot Spencer King, her new partner and one of the Wild Riders. Spence thinks she looks more like a schoolteacher than a stripper, and doubts her ability to do the job. But when he teasingly challenges Shadoe to strip just for him, he finds out there's more to the surprisingly sexy agent than by-the-book rules and Government Issue pantsuits." -- Publisher description.

My summation? Sex. Seriously, lots of sex. And motorbikes. You do the math. In fact, one colleague (who shall remain nameless) nicked my copy of this off the hold shelf and read it out of curiosity and then promptly emailed me with something like 'OMG what do you read? I learnt things I never knew before.'

4. Louis Theroux [DVD videorecording] : the collection directed, produced and filmed by Stuart Cabb ; script by Louis Theoux. In this compilation, Louis Theroux has chosen an assortment of his favourite episodes from his television show. He covers profiles of celebrities, documentaries on American subcultures and some satirical segments from his earliest film-making attempts. Includes clips from 'Weird weekends', 'When Louis met' and 'Louis and". This assemblage of humour lays bare the cult of crass, light and vain people taking themselves seriously.

My summation? I heart Louis but I have to admit to being too faint hearted to get right through the entire collection. Why? Not because he sucks, because he so plainly doesn't, but because he was so brutally honest in some of his questions that I kept waiting for someone to punch him in the face. Like the adult film industry? Where he's asking the cute blonde guy who was 'gay for pay' about what he does out loud in the sunlight, it seemed so, I dunno, baldfaced. And you could see the guy was totally uncomfortable with it. I havered between mortification and amusement. Eep. Meh it's my total discomfort that leads to this being at #4 and for that I apologise. But it's not moving so don't bother taking me to task for it.

3. The help by Kathryn Stockett. Limited and persecuted by racial divides in 1962 Jackson, Mississippi, three women, including an African-American maid, her sassy and chronically unemployed friend, and a recently graduated white woman, team up for a clandestine project.

My summation? This synopsis is shit. Seriously, it doesn't even begin to talk up how really good this book is - and it's Stockett's debut. Read this for bookclub (the first rule of bookclub...) and it's the first book in roughly a year since we formed that I hadn't read before the rest of the group. And it was well worth it. Makes you laugh, makes you mad, makes you sad although not one of those 'sads' where you end up feeling polarised about racial issues which was a change for me. Often I read books about racial divides and get so enraged and it has nowhere to go. I remember walking through the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, Tennessee (the former Lorraine Motel where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated) and crying my way through the entire exhibit and coming away from there thinking, 'Where to from here?' Where to indeed.

2. The book of idle pleasures edited by Dan Kieran and Tom Hodkinson. Reflects on 75 simple pastimes and proves that the best things in life really are free: lighting fires, skimming stones, catching falling leaves, whittling, staring out of the window, dreaming, doodling or taking a nap.

My summation? This book reminds me of the things I did with my parents/grandparents before the madness of the interwebs and tv show marathons took over my life, things like: falling asleep in my clothes, singing, 'just looking' instead of 'browsing,' throwing a caper, writing a letter and lots of other simple activities *sigh* Where did those days go? And who will teach them to my nephews? Now I'm nostalgic ;)

1. Stephen Fry in America [DVD videorecording]. Britain's best-loved comic genius Stephen Fry turns his celebrated wit and insight to unearthing the real America as he travels across the continent in his black taxicab. His journey across the vast country takes himn to a whiskey distillery in Kentucky, lava fields in Hawaii, an Amish community in Wisconsin and a brothel in Nevada, as well as hunting in New York State, sailing on an America's Cup boat in Rhode Island, basket weaving with Navajo Indians and meeting environmental activists in Oregon.

My summation? I HEART STEPHEN FRY :) What more is there to say? I missed the tv series first time around, read the book (while making a list of like-places I wanted to visit when in the US next) and then requested the DVDs when we got them. Sitting here blogging and re-watching this - hilarious, insightful and thoughtful. Speaking of Fry, have you seen his episode of Who Do You Think You Are? UK Series 2? You've *got* to - but have tissues handy. It's sad but lovely sad. I was sobbing by the end of it (probably because he was, too, and I'm a sympathy crier) but I loved it. The UK ones are real tearjerkers.

So, that's me. And I'm back in the saddle. So to speak. The word 'saddle' makes me think of horses which, you know, makes me think of cowboys. And that makes me want to yell, 'Save a horse...ride a cowboy!' o_O

'I don't have to look up my family tree...

2010-10-05T21:21:00.007+13:00

...because I know that I'm the sap.'
~ Fred Allen

Seriously, I am a total crybaby. I cry over sad movies, heartbreaking books, cute fluffy animals, etc. When I was on holiday in New Orleans last year I discovered the Hallmark Channel and thought I'd died and gone to heaven. All of those tearjerkers available for viewing. One after another after another. I would wander the French Quarter and take in the sights/sounds and head back to the B&B at some ungodly hour of the morning and lie awake for hours watching sad movies. BLISS. Believe it or not, my ability to cry at the sappiest of things was, recently, quite a funny weird/funny haha moment thanks to one of my nephews. It's Tuesday and this is a 'my family & other animals' post..

Kalani - my 6 year old nephew - is full of the craziest, funny little things. Nine times out of ten we actually get on really well. I live for those times LOL Then are the times when we want to do little more than wipe each other off the face of the earth *raises a brow* Those moments don't happen often but when they do look out! The following conversation is one we had over the weekend during my Supernatural (I heart Dean) marathon (if you haven't yet seen Supernatural then, really, what the hell are you doing with your life?).

Scene: Tosca, a picnic bar, a bottle of coke, and Supernatural season 2 playing on the dvd player. I can't state what happens in the episode because I know Kelly is going to start watching the series soon and I don't want to spoil it. For those of you who do know the Winchesters, it's the last 2 episodes 'All hell breaks loose' parts 1 and 2 where something happens to someone. So, this something happens to my least favourite someone and my lower lip drops, my eyes start watering, my nose starts running and, before I know it, I'm full on sniffling. Although not quite sobbing, I quickly want to point out. 'Carry on wayward son' by Kansas is playing loudly (one of my favouritest rock tracks ever) which just serves to make me sniffle louder...and in walks Mr. 6.

Kalani: Are you crying again?
Me: YES. It's a sad moment. You're MEANT to cry... *mutters to self* Why am I defending myself to a 6 year old?
Kalani: *scornfully* You ALWAYS cry in these. Why do you watch them then?
Me: GRR.
Kalani: It's because of your oboes.
Me: *blinks* My oboes?
Kalani: Yeah. It's your oboes *nods wisely*
Me: What...what do you mean it's my oboes?
Kalani: You got tubes *makes pinching motions with his fingers* and they got oboes in 'em. That's why you cry.
Me: I have oboes in my tubes? *suddenly realises what he means* Ovaries? I have ovaries in my...tubes...and that's why I cry? *having visions of men with great big oboes marching around in my fallopian tubes happily tooting away*
Kalani: That's what I said!

More questioning gives me the answer that I want: Mr. 13 is inadvertently responsible for this weird mash-up puberty talk. Awesome. NOT. I'd hate to think what misinformation is floating around in either of their heads...which is why I totally chickened out and made a mental note to tell my siblings about the chat so they can follow it up and hand out the right info. I'm just the aunt - that's not MY job. Eek.

A colleague asked me recently if my family minded that they appear here looking foolish and my response to that was, 'Oh no. They know that anything dumb they do is totally public domain.' Amen.

'Humor is merely tragedy...

2010-08-26T16:39:00.004+12:00

...standing on its head with its pants torn.'
~ Irvin S. Cobb

I'm as fond of a laugh as the next person and, depending on who's standing beside you, maybe even more fond than is ordinarily acceptable (although I dare you to define 'ordinarily acceptable' pfft). So when colleagues send me hilarious book titles and hoot-out-loud-with-laughter video links well, what else am I meant to do but spread she giggles? This is a combination post of a video link/book title because hey, I can. That and I was far too lazy to do so last night after quiz night (where, I might add, we kicked some geek butt).

VIDEO CLIP OF THE WEEK: The video is thanks to Danielle (Website Guru here in Digital Services) and when I watched it today she had to listen to me snorting and giggling and choking - a riveting sight, to be sure. It's a Star Trek redubbing and all I can say after this is, 'Jesus is a raisin.' Watch it and all will become clear...

BOOK TITLE/COVER: Sent to me byAnnie , who is even more of a Bookaholic Extraordinaire than I am! Sent to me, I might add, while I was participating in a national teleconference and had to stifle all chuckling/guffawing. Dirty pool, Annie! It's total squee for someone like moi who enjoys romance titles in all their gloriousness :)

Title: The playboy sheikh's virgin stable-girl
Author: Sharon Kendrick
Synopsis: Polo-playing sheikh Prince Kaliq Al'Farisi loves his women as much as his horses. They're wild, willing, and he's their master! Stable girl Eleni is a local Calistan. Raised by her brutal father on the horse-racing circuit, she feels unlovable. When her precious horses are given to Sheikh Kaliq, she refuses to be parted from them. The playboy sheikh is determined to bed Eleni - and when Kaliq realizes she's a virgin, the challenge only becomes more interesting...

How could I NOT want to request this book with that title???

"The worst feature of a new baby...

2010-08-24T22:35:00.005+12:00

...is its mother's singing."
~ Kin Hubbard

Mmmm not in our family. Everyone sings and/or plays guitar and they all sound pretty damn good while doing it, too. Including baby Remy's mother. Family home evenings always involved music (my parents are mormons and yeah, I grew up mormon except if you stand still and listen to dad long enough he'll tell you I'm the spawn of Satan and the doors will fall off their hinges should I ever enter a church). I remember we were always singing somewhere: baptisms, weddings and fireside evenings (weirdly, there were no fires at those fireside evenings, in fact, once I remember wearing a fur coat). Upshot? Music is a mainstay, so I probably shouldn't have been surprised that even the baby enjoys it, too. And yet, I kinda am.

Ordinarily I share some terribly funny but ultimately embarrassing story about a family member (or sometimes myself) for this, my Tuesday 'my family & other animals' post. Tonight, however, I thought I'd share what seems to be a favourite song of baby Remy. Although, you know, he's 2 months old so his tastes will change :) He loves music. Absolutely adores it, I'm happy to say, except I'm not sure if it's a good thing or not that he likes to mimic me if I sing Lady Gaga's 'Poker face' to him (the Glee version, I'll have you know) o_O

The clip below is The Mamas and the Papas song 'Dream a little dream of me' which seems to work a treat at calming him if he's cranking up for a full on roar. If I remember rightly, my maternal gramps liked this song and everytime I hear it I'm reminded of him. The kid has good taste in music!

"The ability to read awoke inside me...

2010-08-23T21:36:00.004+12:00

...some long dormant craving to be mentally alive.”
~ Autobiography of Malcolm X

I do not remember when my love affair with books began. As a precocious 11 year old reading 'Fear of flying' by Erica Jong? As a curious 9 year old reading Nabokov's 'Lolita'? As a 7 year old with a literary crush reading The Hardy Boys under the blankets after lights out? As a 5 year old reading Milne's 'Now we are six' with my mum? As a 3 year old listening to my mum read me bible stories (that were more like horror stories as a toddler but hey, what did I know?). Earlier, perhaps? I'm not sure. I'll probably never know. But everyday I am grateful that it began some day, some when, and that my parents fostered it. It's Monday and this is an 'on the shelf' post or a 'what I'm reading' post.

I've been really slack about blogging for the last 4 weeks or so but I have a good reason: desktop pc go boom (well, not quite but it was a close thing) and has gone to doctor to get fixed and laptop blogging has never really appealed to me. It's too fiddly! But I feel somewhat motivated to talk books tonight.

I wrote a post late last week for our work Top 5 blog that had 5 titles I found while stalking cataloguing and acquisitions trolleys that piqued my interest enough to make my ever expanding to-be-read list. I've also put the reason as to why I want to read each title but, hey, there's no rhyme or reason to how I select books so don't moan at me if you don't agree:

What I'm wanting to read:
5. Numb: a novel by Sean Ferrell - Why? Umm no reason - I just think it could be an interesting book. Yes? Oh! And I liked the subject heading 'congenital insensitivity to pain' because, hey, I've never seen that one before.

4. Dracula in love: a novel by Karen Essex - Why? I count Bram Stoker's 'Dracula' as the first vampire novel I remember making an impact on my tiny mind, and the idea of a retelling from a different character POV (point of view) is intriguing. I do have a query, though: why do writers of fiction novels use the word 'novel' as a part of the title? I don't understand that. Can someone explain it?

3. The man with the golden touch: how the Bond films conquered the world by Sinclair McKay - Why? I heart Bond! He's horribly misogynistic and chauvinistic and cheesy to the core (not to mention terribly inappropriate for 9 year old girls to be reading but the book was just sitting there and so my lifelong affair with Bond began) but I love love LOVE him in all his horribleness. I cannot help myself. Well, truth be told, I refuse to help myself.

2. They called themselves the KKK: the birth of an American terrorist group by Susan Campbell Bartoletti - Why? There's no doubt that the KKK are an interesting part of American history - they're certainly a controversial part, geez. I am always fascinated by how majority cultures treat people and I don't think it's even anything to do with my being Maori. I think it's just general human interest on my part. While in Memphis, Tennessee I visited the National Civil Rights Museum - formerly the Lorraine Hotel where Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated April 4th 1968 - and was saddened, appalled, angered and laid low by how badly we sometimes treat each other. I remember standing at the viewing window to King's former motel room and silently crying and thinking that sometimes people do atrocious things.

1. Clementine by Cherie Priest - Why? I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVED Priest's steampunk novel 'Boneshaker' and that alone has me impatiently awaiting this book to make its way through cataloguing. Am I perhaps building it up too much? Only a reading will tell.

What I am actually reading at the moment:
5. Doctor Who : the encyclopedia : a definitive guide to time and space by Gary Russell - Why? Because I love Doctor Who - why else?!? Although I do not love this book :( The script is little. Even Mr. 6, who is even more of a diehard fan than I am, agrees. We ooh and aah over the pictures but don't read the text. Ugh.

4. Nauti and Wild anthology by Lora Leigh and Jaci Burton - I think I may have finally found a Lora Leigh book whose alpha male character's overbearing attitude is a little too much for even me to take. I'm willing to forgive to all kinds of crazy, overly possessive behaviour in chasing after the happy-ever-after (although IRL I will slap your arse with a restraining order and send my insane sisters out to hunt you down and gut you) but unh-unh not this time around. I did *really* like Burton's story. Had never read one of the Wild books before and may have found a new romance series to go after. YAY is me :)

3. Chelsea Chelsea bang bang - Why? Because as rude as her mouth is, she's totally hilarious with it, and her 3rd memoir is no exception. I've laughed myself to tears reading it and then I put it down and now I can't remember where and there are books everywhere and it's now so overdue - 'cause I took ages to start it - that it's charged me. Oops. I apologise to those who're in waiting for it (if there are people waiting for it).

2. The day I swapped my dad for two goldfish with words by Neil Gaiman & pictures by Dave McKean - Why? Because I think it's never too early to foster a love of Gaiman in my 6 year old nephew. Amen. So far we've gotten as far as discussing the cover and thinking of what we'd swap our parents for (much laughter ensued which is why we never actually got to open the book. Maybe tomorrow night...?).

1. A book of tongues by Gemma Files - Why? It has m/m elements (male/male rather than male/female) and is a paranormal western. I'm reluctant to finish it for one very good reason: it's a whole year until the next book in this series *moans* and it's GOOD. It seriously is! I'm not sure which character that is on the cover - Chess? Rook? Ed? - but whoever it is that is NOT how I pictured them. In my head they all look like Gabriel Macht when he played Frank James (as in Jesse James' brother) in the 2001 made-for-tv film 'American Outlaws.' Pfft.

'My ethnicity was my choice...

2010-08-10T22:41:00.006+12:00

...It still is.'
~ Isaac Mizrahi

Well no, it's not. Or at least, not for me. I am Maori every second of every minute of every hour of every day. I don't know how to be anything else. For me that means: I speak the language (although no longer as fluently as I used to and that's my own fault); I know my whakapapa going generations back; I can recite the stories that go with those ancestors; I have a turangawaewae, rangatira, waka, awa, maunga & marae; I know about my culture & my history - and those parts of me are not dying out. I am not dying out. It's Tuesday and this is a 'My family & other animals post' or hmm, things my family say or do that are worth blogging about. The quick roundabout story for how this post came about goes like this: Professor Paul Moon (lecturer from my angry student days) commented on a link on Facebook that was initially shared by Joris de Bres (yeah, as in NZ's Race Relations Commissioner) that was actually an article written by Matt Lawrey in The Nelson Mail called 'Kia ora to an enlightened attitude towards te reo.' It's a great article...until you read the comments. Depressed the hell outta me and reminded me of advice my parents gave me that sucked. Badly.

My parents love me. A lot. I'm eminently lovable so hey *shrugs* it's easy to do. Well, that and as my parents it's their job to love me. It's only natural for them to want to have guided me when I was younger and oh so impressionable. I know that they always have my best interests at heart. This doesn't mean, however, that they always know what's right for me. Shocker, huh, that your parents aren't always right? But they mean well, and they say what they say with love and with the best of intentions. Even if it was crappy advice at the time, advice like:

1) Learning the reo is not a smart career move
2) You'll never get a job if you have a nose piercing
3) People will think twice about hiring you if you have a tattoo

I'm living proof that all of those are a huge crock of shit :0) When I was about 11 (I was always a year younger than all of my classmates) and considering my high school 'options' (the subjects that we were allowed to choose - as opposed to the compulsory maths, science etc.) my parents told me that te reo Maori was not a smart career choice. They were dead serious. Learning te reo at school, or having a qualification for it at any rate - I grew up with it in the home but wanted qualifications for it even if it was just school cert - was not going to earn me big money. Japanese, I was informed, would be a more logical choice. So I took Japanese right up through 6th form...and hated it. Yeah sure, I was really good at it, but it turned out that I was also good at German and, weirdly, French, which I had to barter with my parents to take. We both walked away from the bargaining table with a compromise that we could all live with but I can't help thinking that perhaps in winning we maybe lost something as well. And, in doing so, maybe let the hurt of past grievances have more importance than they ever should have in my lifetime.

My dad doesn't talk much about growing up Maori in a rural area but I know, from what little I've listened in on, that it was hard and it was painful - and it was enough to make him believe for many years that being Maori held no worth at all. Not in anyone's eyes. I'd imagine that a large part of this was because he and his siblings had been caned, strapped, yelled at and humiliated in front of their school friends for talking in Maori. Over time they got the idea that it was better to just give it all up because, hey, the nail that sticks up the highest gets hit the hardest, right? I'm almost 100% certain that it was this treatment that prompted his advice to me as an adolescent. Which is totally understandable, although slightly insane because I shouldn't have had to pay for crappy government policies a generation or two later geez. No way. And reading comments like those left on Lawrey's article make me absolutely livid - it's like a neverending frickin' loop: shit stuff happened, and a crapload of Maori lost their language etc., and some of them are still without (and apparently learning a language that's dying *rolls eyes*) because shit stuff happened, and a crapload of Maori lost their language etc., and some of them are still without (and apparently learning a language that's dying *rolls eyes*) because...you get the picture. Debate - healthy debate - is always good! But some of those comments weren't what I'd call healthy. No way, no how. It's a bit of a reality check for me not to get too complacent about my identity because someone out there will always challenge it. Maybe that's what my parents didn't want, I don't know. It's never boring being Maori, right? I just wish half of them would do it with some actual knowledge behind their opinions and not just knee jerk reactions.

Links:
1) Lawrey's initial article: 'Kia ora to an enlightened attitude towards te reo'
2) Editorial: 'Embracing te reo'
3) Lawrey's follow up article: 'Level of bigotry that can only depress'

A colleague and I were discussing Hone Harawira's comment about how he'd feel uncomfortable if one of his children brought home a non-Maori partner. He was asked his thoughts, he gave them. For fuxake, if you don't really want to know what Hone thinks then don't ruddy well ask him because for sure you'll get it in spades and you know most of you won't like it LOL But it sells papers, right? Did anyone ask him why he'd be uncomfortable and, in having asked him, did they give him an opportunity to answer? I'd be interested in knowing his full answer. I wonder if I can ask him? I really want to know because here is a man who has worked hard his whole life to ensure that his children are exceptionally strong in their knowledge of Maori history, culture, protocols, customs and most especially the language. I wonder if he's concerned about what compromises would have to be made and where, and if he's worried that they might feel like they had to leave parts of their Maori identity on the bargaining table...

'The golden rule...

2010-08-05T15:23:00.005+12:00

...is that there are no golden rules.'
- George Bernard Shaw

I'm going to break my posting rules and turn this one into a two-fer mostly because I was too lazy after quiz night last night to get my shit together and post then. As a result, this is a combination of Wednesday's odball/funny book cover/title and Thursday's clip of the week (only with 3 clips instead of 1 - maths was never my forte).

1. I haven't come across any oddball or funny (haha or weird) book titles/covers but did see one that a colleague amended and then blogged in her summation post for her web 2.0 tutorial. Totally had me in stitches! I have a slight fangirl crush (yeah, ok, so it's not slight - byte me) on John Barrowman's character Captain Jack from the Torchwood series and most of our library staff know that. I was browsing through staff blogs and came across the fabulous pic below with the following comment underneath that I liked so much I had to blog it:

And now, to finish - this is for Tosca and Courtie, found while I was shelving today. I *might* have edited the male character’s face just a little, but his name is Captain Jack Harcourt! SO CLOSE!

2. Natalie told me to look up a clip on YouTube called 'Star Wars Subway Car' which is, well, just as the title suggests, Star Wars on a umm subway car. Seriously - and it's funny! I love the part where Princess Leia is reading 'Galactic Rebellion for Dummies.' Check out the reaction of the gentleman seated beside her ;)

3. Frida Cascade left a comment on our work Top 5 Goodies blog (on my 'Top 5 items I requested and took home but couldn't remember why I wanted to read/watch them when I got there so brought them back' list) with a link to a 'Sweded' video. And omg it's as bad as the Sweded videos on 'Be kind, rewind' LOL Maybe even worse and I didn't think that was possible. I didn't know whether to laugh, cry or clap my hands over my eyes and ears LOL And I'm pretty damn sure I don't want to know what the hell was in that water to make it so brown. Ugh. And thank you, Frida, for the giggle ;)

4. This clip is courtesy of Megan who very kindly let me know about it the last time I was at Manurewa Library making a nuisance of myself...which is quite a bit as they'll tell you. What's the big deal? Over 200 dancers performing to "Do Re Mi" - yes as in Julie Andrews and The Sound of Music, in the Central Station of Antwerp. It was a promotional stunt for a tv programme to find a new Maria. Kinda cute.

'My nephews all look at me differently now...

2010-08-03T12:14:00.001+12:00

...Before, they couldn't relate to me, and now I'm like a god.'
~ Ruth Buzzi

Yes, that is a baby bottle that is shaped like a perky boob and yes, it has a place in this story ;) My nephews don't look at me like I'm a god all the time. Only when I fix the pc for them when it's misbehaving or on bad movie night Friday because, apparently, nobody knows a bad movie like I do. I'm still not sure whether or not I should be consider that a compliment.

More often than not the admiration goes the other way - my nephews keep me young, they keep me on my toes and at least three times a week I'm amazed by something they've said or done. But the amazement isn't always of the 'ohmygod aren't you so CLEVER' variety. No. 'Cause that would be simple, wouldn't it? That would make sense. Sometimes it's of the 'ohmygod I don't understand you, you little alien being' variety and, other times, it's more the 'what the hell were your parents smoking when they conceived you?!' kind. Today's post is of the latter. It's Tuesday and this is a 'my family & other animals post' or a 'things my family do that make me go WTF?' post ;) The subject of today's post is Mr. 13 or, as he's known on his birth certificate, Markhiem Elijah Williams.

Last month sometime my youngest sibling had her first baby. Having a baby in the house after so long is such an eye opener. Some things I'm having to re-learn like how uninterrupted sleep is a thing of the past and how I shouldn't forget the baby sitting in the carseat inside the house while backing down the driveway D'OH. Some things I never forgot like how to change a nappy and make a bottle and calm a baby all at the same time. My sister's recently moved to bottle feeding Remy (her milk dried up - I know, I know! Too much information. Deal with it! I had to) and it's nice because we can all help out now. She bought a bottle especially shaped like a breast - seriously, it's shaped exactly like a perky, fake, B-cup boob - and the teat is very realistic-nipple looking. Once again, TMI, but it was the debate of much laughter and discussion in our household. Discussion, I'm guessing, that Markie was able to hear because it's the only thing that can explain his actions below.

Markhiem and his younger brother Jaxin love the baby. They enjoy holding him, walking him up and down, interfering with the routine for bathtime and, most especially, they love to feed him his bottle. This particular conversation took place during one such session.

Markie: Can I feed Remy? I wanna feed Remy. Let me feed Remy!
Tosca: *sarcastic voice* Hey Mark, would you like to feed Remy?
Markie: Haha sarcasm! And you know what nana says about sarcasm...
Tosca: That I can kill you with it *hands over the bottle and the baby* Sit near where I can see you please *picks up a book - one ear tuned for the baby*

Markie pulls a chair up to within kicking distance and starts feeding the baby. After about 10 mins I realise that Remy has finished and is looking ready to bring up his wind and there's Markie, sitting there, rubbing the now empty bottle over his face (totally unhygienic by the way).

Tosca: Mark - what are you doing?
Markie: Rubbing the bottle on my face.
Tosca: Yeah I know. What I want to know is WHY?
Markie: Because I want to know something.
Tosca: Like...?!
Markie: I want to know what it feels like to have a boob on my face.
Tosca: *blinks* What? *bursts out laughing* Gimme that kid! And now go tell your mother what you were doing *bursts out laughing again*

Yeah, some mothers do 'ave 'em :) By the way, that wasn't what my mother said about sarcasm. She said, 'Tosca, sarcasm is the lowest form of humour.'

'If in the after life there is not music...

2010-07-01T17:34:00.004+12:00

...we will have to import it.'
~ Doménico Cieri Estrada

AWESOME! So there will be iPods in heaven & hell! If that's the case, I want these two songs & video clips, to be on my 'playlist of the eternally damned.' Two clips of the week for this, my 'video clip of the week' post.

The reason for the first is solely down to nostalgia. I heard some ugh cover (or maybe it was a sample) of 'Dub be good to me' (originally by Beats International) and I didn't like it. There was nothing wrong with the original. I always loved the video to the first one, it was just so...1990. Not quite 80s and not quite 90s with the big ass earrings and the shoulder pads, the tights under the shorts, the sneakers and the dancing, ohmylord the dancing. But oh they were good days! Weirdly, I wasn't able to find the original video clip on YouTube *blinks* WTF? I had the choice of either the music with no video, or the video with a freakin' remix. I'm not a fan of remixes/covers that do not, in any way, add to the original *sigh* Went for the music, of course.

This next clip is a mix of Star Trek clips to Ke$ha's 'Tik Tok.' It's kinda funny and I like it. I was catching up on a heap of Friday Videos at the Smart Bitches Trashy Books website and came across it there ;) I can't say, though, that I have ever had that feeling where I 'wake up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy.' Frankly, I'm a tad bit apprehensive as to what that might feel like. But the video, oh the video is too, too cool.

'Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family...

2010-06-30T22:59:00.005+12:00

...in another city.'
~ George Burns

And sometimes, as much as I love my family, being in another city would be better for my continued health & safety. Families are strange little things, aren't they? I have been able to watch my youngest sister (the baby, if you will) navigate her way through her very first pregnancy and it has been a very interesting time. To say the least - the things that pop out of her mouth *shakes head* It's Wednesday and I missed my regular 'my family & other animals post' where I share a funny, sad, silly story about my oddball family, so you're getting it tonight, instead. It'll be two conversations that I relate - one about the impending baby's name, and the other right now while Miss Knocked Up is having contractions (at great risk to my own life, I might add).

A few months ago, Miss Knocked Up and I were having a conversation about the baby's name. Mr. 6's mummy gets to choose the first name and I get to choose the middle name. Our chat went a little something like this:

Tosca: What about the baby's name? Am I still allowed to choose the middle name?
Miss Knocked Up: Yep. How's that going?
Tosca: It isn't. I'm still thinking.
Miss Knocked Up: Think faster. You're not allowed to call him Aloysius.
Tosca: WHAT? Why not?!
Miss Knocked Up: Because I said. And you can't call him Dorcas, either.
Tosca: It's a PERFECTLY good name! And HEY this is MY choice, remember??
Miss Knocked Up: Yeah, those kinda names? That's why you're only ever allowed to choose the middle names.
Tosca: CRUD. Dorcas is a girl's name, anyway.
Miss Knocked Up: You're still not allowed that one.
Tosca: At this rate that kid's gonna have NO middle name.
Miss Knocked Up: Works for me.

As I type this post, Miss Knocked Up is packing back and forth and Mr. 6's mummy has managed to convince her to rearrange cushions to get comfortable. Perhaps an impossible feat considering that an 8 pound watermelon is pushing and squeezing and wriggling around in order to make his debut appearance. Comfort is not an option. She is making a list. Maybe, like Santa, she's noting who's naughty and nice...? Helluva time to construct a possible 'to do' list but hey, live in the present, right?

I had this weirdest flashback to when my mother was in labour Christmas Eve of 1983. My youngest brother, Hemi (no, we didn't name him Jesus, tempting as it was), was a Christmas day baby. Seriously, what a stink present, I'd have asked Santa for a refund. I remember waking up in the wee hours of the morning and my mother was roaming around in her nightie finishing wrapping presents. She used to disguise our presents in weird shapes to make it even more of a surprise - that year I got my very first digital watch and it was wrapped inside a toilet roll with shiny, stripey paper. She was quite determined that we have as normal a Christmas day as possible (even though dad always kinda sucked at knowing how to deal with us when mum wasn't around LOL) and she was setting the table, humming to herself and, if I'm right, probably having contractions. Eek. My mother is a stickler when it comes to table arrangements and napkin folding and nothing was going to get in the way of that LOL Believe it or not, I am now a napkin-folder extraordinaire - a feat that will serve me well should I ever lose my job ;) So, I'm looking at Miss Knocked Up and seeing my mother, 26 years ago. You know, I don't remember that I ever let my mother know that I was awake and watching her. I have been, however, dumb enough to let Miss Knocked Up know I was curious about her labour pains. I know! Stupid move! She's ready to rip heads off with her teeth *snorts*

Tosca: How did your check up go today?
Amiria: *grumpily* It's still going!
Tosca: What do you mean it's still going?! *slightly panicky voice*
Amiria: HELLO I'M IN LABOUR!
Tosca: Oh *small voice* Good point.
Amiria: UNH I'm really, really sore. Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow...

It's at about this point that I pike out and fervently thank god that I had a couple of beers tonight and can't drive her anywhere and that it'll be Mr. 6's mummy instead *heave sigh of relief*

'Don't cook. Don't clean...

2010-06-28T19:01:00.004+12:00

...No man will ever make love to a woman because she waxed the linoleum - "My God, the floor's immaculate. Lie down, you hot bitch."
~ Joan Rivers

I detest house cleaning - it may make others feel virtuous but I find that it gets in the way of whatever it is that I want to do at any time: lying around, reading, watching tv, playing on the interwebs, picking my nose, ANYTHING. Sometimes, though, it's a necessity. Especially when you're preparing to move house. And the highlights of it all are when you come across unexpected little treasures. Like I did tonight. It's Monday so this is my 'on the shelf' or 'what I'm reading' post and, believe it or not, the house cleaning bit ties in to my latest read.

Title: Jubal Sackett
Author: Louis L'Amour
Year: 1985
Series: Sackett series, book 4
Synopsis: Wilderness explorer Jubal Sackett was the son of Barnabas Sackett, the first of that name to come to the New World. Jubal feared no man, nor backed away from any challenge. His fierce determination to blaze new trails took him across the vast, savage North American continent where no white man had been before. Living and fighting among the Indian tribes, Jubal Sackett forged a legend as a powerful medicine man they called "Ni'Kwana, master of mysteries." And with Itchakomi, the proud Natchez princess, he walked the path of courage that future Sacketts would follow.

My dad is an historical fiction freak. Well, he's an historical book reader fullstop whether it's nonfiction or fiction. I have memories of him reading Louis L'Amour's books when I was about 7 or 8 and I didn't think much of it. Until we moved to Auckland and I had read my way through the school library (which was appallingly tiny and would never have been able to keep me happy, anyway), my own books at home and decided to read my way through mum and dad's books, too. In my 9 year old mind I had decided that if dad and mum devoured them there must be something to them, even if they were mostly cowboy and Indian books (which, up till then, I hadn't read at all). Discovering a somewhat obsessive need for reading in order (these days I'm not so bad) I started with Sackett's Land (which was published in 1974 so hell it was older than me) and worked my way through the entire Sackett series. I laughed, got mad at the bad guys, cried, rejoiced with the good guys, learnt parts of American Indian history I'd never heard about in school, fell in love with the wild west and developed a yearning to visit the States and see the land the way L'Amour did. I believe that this series gave me an idea of how important my own indigenous history was, up until then I'd kind of taken it for granted. I distinctly remember bawling my eyes out when William Tell Sackett's wife, Angie, was assaulted and murdered and he spent a good portion of the book tracking down the men who did it and 'reading to them from the good book.' That used to be a running joke in our house, my mum would say to dad, 'Did you read to them from the good book?' and dad would reply, 'Nope, I just showed 'em the pictures.' Seriously, my parents were odd. L'Amour's Sackett books also put me on to Dee Brown's 'Bury my heart at Wounded Knee' and I remember that it was one of the few nonfiction books that broke my heart. I re-read the Sacket novels on and off right up until my late teens and then, for some reason, forgot all about them. Until tonight.

We're in the middle of packing up the the rooms in preparation to move - we plan to be gone from this house by the end of July. I've only started the first room tonight and I've come across the strangest things that evoke the strongest memories. A photo of my favourite uncle (my dad's youngest brother) - our theme song was 'Nina, pretty ballerina,' a family photo (sans moi, bien sur) back when Miss Knocked Up was cute and eager to please instead of terribly hormonal and ready to rip heads off, a dvd of my favourite cousin's funeral service (I miss her still and it's been 2 years), Miss 6's kohanga certificates, Mr. 6's first dracula cape (serving merely to highlight how strange that kid truly is) and a myriad of other treasures. The best find - or maybe the best 'sentimental but not in an I'm-gonna-start-crying way' find - is dad's Sackett books. I grabbed one at random and was suddenly 9 years old all over again, experiencing that rush of excitement and adventure and sense of romance (omg I was thinking about the romance of a book back then and didn't even know it geez) and so I sat down, cleaning forgotten, to read the first chapter...which inspired me to write this post. The plan now is to finish cleaning that particular room tonight in order to claim my reward - renewing an old acquaintance with Monsieur L'Amour.

'The qualities that make Twitter seem inane and half-baked...

2010-06-25T19:16:00.006+12:00

...are what makes it so powerful'
~ Jonathan Zittrain (Professor of Internet Law at Harvard)

Twitter is not everybody's cup of tea and nor should it be, but neither is it the demon that some people believe it is. Your own personal experience of twitter is all down to you. It is as meaningful as you make it. It is as much a business tool as you want it to be. It is as useful as you allow it to be. It can be as lighthearted or as serious as you are.It's a blank slate just begging to be utilised. And utilised properly. Is your experience a crap one? Then you're following crap tweeters. I'm sorry - that's as nicely blunt as I can ever be. I've said it before and I'll say it again: make sure you have a healthy ego before putting your library staff through web 2.0 because you will need it. Yeah, it's Friday so technically this is my Ms. Cranky McRanty Pants post and I'm going to do what I said I wouldn't - I'm going to use my blog to respond to our staff who found the web 2.0 twitter exercise to be so much bunkum. And I'm taking the kid gloves off.

9 weeks ago our staff started our revamped web 2.0 tutorial. We rolled out 23 Things 2 years ago and wow did it cause some amount of consternation (note my diplomacy, yeah I can practise it sometimes). This time around, heavily revamped, we rolled it out again, this time it's 6 activities in 10 weeks covering an even mix of 2.0 work/2.0 fun tasks. One of the things we kept hearing last time was that it should have been more relevant to our everyday tasks - my fun job (ok, being slightly sarcastic) was to figure out how to incorporate that ideal. For the most part the feedback has been positive, although some issues will probably always crop up: sites being blocked, being able to use a learn.net pc and finding time during the working week to get to the tasks seem to be the most common. Two of the things I asked staff to do were to sign up to Twitter and Facebook in order to check out how other libraries use these tools and suggest methods we can adapt and use ourselves. A very small few opted to boycott. As the daughter of a former 1960s/1970s Maori radical a part of me stands up and cheers for that. And the other practical side of me says, 'How do you expect to help our patrons when they ask about it if you haven't experienced it first hand and have no idea what it is, what's it for and how it works?' For that I thank Facebook for amending their privacy policies thereby hitting international headlines and generally making our staff leery of registering with them *rolls eyes* and Twitter for only showing them the bad side of what can actually be a very fun tool. Next week, assuming I'm not feeling ratty, I may address the issue of Facebook, but for tonight I'm starting with Twitter.

Quite a few found it useless and irrelevant and, while I tried not to take it personally, it made me a tad bit grumpy. For very personal reasons. I maintain our work tweetstream. So what? So when you say it is useless, irrelevant, a time waster, inane, full of rubbish etc. you are by default saying that what I do is useless, what I do is irrelevant, that I waste time, that my job is inane and full of rubbish. And, by association, you are saying that our customers who follow us are all of the above as well. Is that really what you meant? If it were a Mills & Boon novel would you make that same value judgement about a customer who wanted to take it out? I don't want you to fall in love with it, marry it, breed with it and raise devil spawn with it - hell, no. That's just insane. But I do expect you to give it a try and THEN critically assess it. Test the hell out of it until its wheels fall off and THEN tell me it sucks to hell and back. When you tell me to get stuffed - and it's ok if you do - I will respect you a whole helluva lot more when you know what you're talking about ;) When you opt to diss it without knowing what it can truly do you've only half done your job. It's ok to not like it, we're not all going to like the same things, but your opinion carries more authority when it's backed with a little knowledge. We are professionals, we give professional advice all day, everyday - this should be no different.

As to the quality of what shows up in your tweetstream, that is all down to you. Why are you on Twitter? What are you passionate about? What do you want to hear? Who do you want to hear from? What motivates you? Which authors do you like? What newspapers do you like to read? Which news stations do you follow? How you answer these questions can go a long way toward making your twitter experience a pleasurable or painful one. Seriously, if you don't like people who tweet for the sake of tweeting (and as an example I would point out my personal tweetstream - I tweet anything and everything because I'm that kind of person and I would say that if you don't like that, don't follow, and if that's not the kind of relationship you want with Twitter then avoid people like me!) don't go near them. Pretend they're a sexually transmitted disease you never, ever want to catch (I say that like there might be kinds you DO want to catch, geez).

Why do I like twitter? At first glance it may seem inane but if you really believe that then you're letting appearances fool you. You've judged the book by its cover. What's in it for me? Information, information, information: book blog links, upcoming events, title recommendations, author recommendations, book buzz in general, chat with authors, chat with other readers, national/international library initiatives, publishing world news, news in general, awareness of issues...I could go on but I won't. To the staff who gave it a bash and then told me it sucked - I SALUTE YOU! To the staff who who tried it and didn't like it - AWESOME! To the staff who took it for a test drive and didn't see the point of it - YAY! That's not sarcasm. The spirit of web 2.0 is about exploring and you did exactly that. To the staff who think it's crap and, by association, so is my job and our customers who follow us, I forgive you. Because you've either had a bad experience OR you're just doing it wrong.

I started my post with this and I'll end with it, too: Twitter is not everybody's cup of tea and nor should it be, but neither is it the demon that some people believe it is. (Image courtesy of The Great Wahl).

'I am thankful for laughter...

2010-06-24T20:33:00.008+12:00

...except when milk comes out of my nose.'
~ Woody Allen

It's Thursday, I'm half-frozen and after having spent the early portion of my evening fielding homework chat queries and singing Edith Pfiaf at the top of my voice after staff were gone home, I am in need of a giggle. So I go where I go when I need a laugh. Yes, that's right, the interwebs. This is my 'video clip of the week' post.

Contrary to popular belief, the internet is not for porn. Or at least, not just for porn ;) And one of these days when I run out of anything else to look at (video clips, funny images, weird websites etc.) I am going to look at porn online. Torchwood and Doctor Who images are think geek porn but they're not nudiness and nakedity porn. Oh lord, have I found degrees of porn-iness? Digressing. Apologies.

Back to giggles! Banned and funny ads - others get their kicks on Route 66 but I get mine on YouTube looking at banned and funny ads. The clip below is intended for nothing more than laughs.

'If minutes were kept of a family gathering...

2010-06-22T16:42:00.007+12:00

...they would show that "Members not Present" and "Subjects Discussed" were one and the same.'
~ Robert Brault

Sometimes here in the blogosphere, like when I write about my family (and today is Tuesday so this is a 'My family & other animals' post), I often wonder if any of them will drop by my blog and, upon seeing themselves in print, throw a wobbly. And then I think, 'Well, who cares if they do?' I do acknowledge that maybe they won't like their foibles, idiocies and vulnerabilities out on display for all to point and laugh at...so don't be stupid, then, is all I can think of to say in reply. Don't give me so much material to use :) Growing up as 1 of 9 children made for interesting times. As a result I'm slightly neurotic, terribly grumpy, sharptongued and I hate to share. Hate it. And by that I mean that I don't like to share anything: space, toothpaste, cups, air - you know, the usual. I'm ok with the embarrassing stories LOL

I received an email from my mum today with a funny, short story that concerns Miss Knocked Up (my 21 year old sibling who, if she can't hold on goddamn her, is going to have a baby any day now and oh jesus that scares me witless). Needless to say I will skip the usual motherly 'how-are-you?-are-eating-well?-have-you-killed-each-other-yet?' chatter. Miss Knocked Up is rather...mmm, I'm trying not to say dumb because that's not totally correct. Perhaps 'naive' is a better word. This is her first baby and she's somewhat clueless about the whole process. My other sisters are all experts. I swear to god, I am the last of my sisters to go the baby route and happy to stay that way. Children are a curiosity to me much like...a pair of shoes in a store. You see them, you go, 'Oohh, lookit the pretty!' Then turn them upside down, see the price, turn white as a sheet and go, 'Oohh, too expensive,' and then put them back. That is me with babies. Watching Miss Knocked Up deal with pregnancy is a series of comedic moments and mum's email story below is merely one episode. God, I love the hilarity of my family LOL:

Have you heard the story about Amiria and Marcia in the supermarket? Amiria picks up a bottle of disinfectant, then notices she's all wet; they both start panicking that her waters have broken, until Marcia notices that the 'wet' is blue. Turns out it's the disinfectant. Cute or D'oh?

I fear it is both: cute AND d'oh.

'Reading is the basic tool...

2010-06-21T20:00:00.010+12:00

...in the living of a good life.'
~ Mortimer J. Adler

I think, book wise, I'm living the high life. For a while I've felt like my book mojo and blog mojo was broken. Or lost. Or maybe diverted. Some of that I blame, in a good way, on Carriger's 'Changeless.' The ending threw me for a six and, for a while, things seemed a bit flat, the other part of that I put down to being slightly burnt out (at least book wise). Slowly (very slowly) but surely my romance novel mojo has come back. My nonfiction mojo...hmm, not so much. You know that tingle you get from a book you pick up that just seems full of so many possibilities? I got it on Sunday when I finally started sorting through my latest requests and found the travelogue below. It's Monday and this is my 'on the shelf' or 'what I'm reading' post.

Title: Cadillac dreams : baby booming across the Southern States
Author: Phil Gifford
Publisher: Wilson Scott Pub.
Year: 2006
Synopsis: "Cadillac dreams: baby booming across the Southern States" is the story of four kiwis living the dream of a lifetime, a musical journey across the southern states of America.

Our catalogue synopsis doesn't even begin to do this book justice - in fact, it does more of a disservice than anything else. What disgusts me is that I wouldn't even have heard of this book if not for our Armchair Travel newsletter and I pride myself on knowing all kinds of odd little gems (known and lesser known). Yay Jill for including it in our June issue :)

This is going to suck as a review because it's going to ramble so get over it :) I loved it! Yeah, I know, I almost always say that about books but this one really struck a chord. Possibly because Phil and wife and friends visited the parts of Louisiana, Texas, Mississippi and Tennessee that I'd wanted to see but didn't have the time when I was there. What also comes through is their genuine love of music and people. 4 friends decide to take a trip to the US and check out the places that were home to music styles and musicians that meant so much to them growing up. It could have been hokey, in fact some part of me was quite scared it would be, I mean what else am I supposed to expect of someone who WANTED to go visit Dollywood, for crying out loud? But it wasn't - it was fun, lighthearted, serious, a social commentary, engaging, very informative and, at all times, highly entertaining. In my mind, the mark of a great book is something that moves you - to laughter, to tears, to anger, to disgust - to anything. I want to take his trip, now. I want to visit the Alamo, I want to see more bars on Beale St (instead of just poking my head into B. B. King's bar), I want to redo the Rock and Soul Museum, I want to hear bluegrass music played in Mississippi or Tennessee (although preferably Kentucky). Even more, I want to have the same varied range of conversations that they had. Maybe that, too is the mark of a good book. An added bonus was that I learnt so much about Gifford the man. For years I'd always just thought of him as Loosehead Len - thanks to dad I grew up listening to his sports broadcasts/newspaper articles. My dad really respected his opinion. But I never knew that he had been the kinda journalist who interviewed musicians. And not tinpot musos (although maybe those too) but freakin' artists like B. B. King, Jerry Lee Lewis and so many more my head spins just thinking about it. I was mightily impressed. Not just because he spoke to them but because he KNEW their music, FELT their music, UNDERSTOOD their music. It wasn't just words. He got it and, because he writes so well, I got it. A smidgeon of it, but I got it.

'I don't think of myself as a poor deprived ghetto girl who made good...

2010-06-20T15:05:00.004+12:00

...I think of myself as somebody who from an early age knew I was responsible for myself, and I had to make good. '
- Oprah Winfrey

Househunting, whether it be for myself or myself and a sibling, fills me with trepidation. In fact, I'm convinced I'd have more fun if I slit mine own eyelids and cast mine eyes to the sun. Are you getting the point? And yet I find myself househunting somewhat frantically because the closer my sibling gets (I 'fondly' refer to her as 'Miss Knocked Up') to her baby-due date, the more vocal she gets about wanting out of the hood. As weird as it seems, I will miss this street.

Yeah, that's right, I live in the ghetto. Or what passes for one here in Takanini. A friend's husband told me a few years ago that the police fear our street. They've never had to live on it so really I don't know what they've got to bitch about. I've grown up here on and off for the last 25+ years - I've seen good and bad people come and go and, sometimes, stay and make a damn good fist of it. Like we did. My parents raised 7 children here, in the hood, and we're all pretty damn normal/fabulous so they must've done something right. I wish I could say the same about some of the other parents in this area.

Verner is as home as I know. Other than a brief stint in Whangarei - the solo mummy capital of the north at that point in time, a couple of years in Mt. Eden Village (whoa, no ghetto there - all designer coffees and designer dogs and even designer kids, jesus) and a year in Papakura, this is my stomping ground. Our family has been here the longest. In fact, everyone I ever grew up with moved away eventually. I do remember good days in this street, an era when everyone knew everyone else and we all cared about each other. Can't say as I've seen that in a while. Somewhere along the way people stopped caring - about each other, about their homes, about their families and, in the end, about themselves. If they had half as much interest in their own wellbeing as they do in the next box of beers the world would be a happier place. If I cared enough to stay I'd like to think I could work on that communal spirit but I don't feel like I have that in me. My parents did, they were very community minded but it's not something that gets my motor going the way it did them. I just wanna get on with getting on.

What will I miss? Believe it or not, the following: the next door neighbour's son who sells dope (except for those times when some bastard knocks on your door at 11pm and tries to shove $20 in your face without even a 'How do you do?' - yeah, not good. To say the least. When I told my brother-in-law he said to me, 'You should've taken the money and shut the door.' LOL Idiot); their boozing 3 or 4 days a frickin' week (try to sleep with that shit going on under your window. Can anybody spell pickled livers?); their thieving daughter and her partner who ripped me off (although, I gotta say, a dumber person never lived, surely - they stole my safe...but left the instructions for opening it behind and, to this day, still haven't opened it. I have to be honest, I have deep-seated rage and I so much want to run her down when I see her. Ugh. Inconsiderate and, get this, related. Yah-huh they're related); the family who live three houses down who like to intimidate anybody, everybody and will rob you blind if you're not looking; the family across the street who like to intimidate people as well and, if word on the street is true, sent a death threat to another neighbour because she called animal control on their dog because it bit her daughter. Twice; the kids who throw rocks at cars; the loose dogs that run around with no collars, no tags and no frickin' obvious owners; the shopping trolleys left dumped on the road; the tagging on the road; the tagging on the fences. Do I bother to count the other two 'tinny houses' in the street? Or the other two around the corner? Or the loads-full in the so-called 'holiday park' which is anything but? Yeah, whichever way you look at it that's some bad mojo, right there. But it's mojo I know, and it's mojo I can handle. Which is, in some part, what I will miss most - all the bad stuff is bad stuff I'm familiar with. Bad stuff that doesn't (mostly because of my well-known mean-spiritedness and bad temper) touch me. It's all in context. It's when I'm outside of Verner that the rules of behaviour change, somewhat, and I find myself...disconcerted.

Growing up here did give me an education: I'm not afraid of confrontation; I will call the cops on your ass if you're breaking the law; I'm not afraid of blunt talk (if anything I need to cultivate a bit of diplomacy and tact); I think nothing of calling people an idiot if that's what they are; I have no patience for fools; I detest liars and being lied to; I can spot a pervert a mile away; I can pick the only bad guy out of a bunch of good guys; I have a pretty clear cut line when it comes to ethics and what's right and a whole host of other stuff that has served me well in my everyday life. So I will miss this street. Shoot, I haven't even gone yet and I miss it. But I'm also somewhat apprehensive about moving on, even though it's one of the better things I could do - because nobody should feel like their street is a new kind of urban battlefield. Better the ghetto you know...right?

'You gonna do something...

2010-06-18T18:49:00.010+12:00

...or just stand there and bleed?'
- line from Tombstone

Top 5 western movies I'm totally gutted we don't have in our library dvd collections

Friday is usually my Ms. Cranky McRanty Pants (PMS and a shotgun style) post but, for ages, my cranky mojo has been missing. First it was my book mojo, then my cranky mojo and, of late, my blog mojo. Tonight's subject is not so much a rant as it is a wistful sigh in the form of a list of things I really wish we had in our library collections. To be more specific, 5 western dvds I desperately wish I could find on our shelves. How did this post come about? Err well shoot I wanted to see if we had any of the Josey Wales movies or any of Clint Eastwood's westerns and nada, zip, zero, zilch :( I haven't listed any of those here because *sigh* it would bump this list up phenomenally.

I love our collections and talk about them (books, dvds, cds) every chance I get with family, friends & colleagues. I don't understand people who don't read books/listen to audiobooks/watch movies. We spend enough money on them - surely they're our biggest asset - that our collections warrant a little bragging. Having said that, every now and then I sometimes get to feeling a little err not despondent, but certainly a little down at heart when we don't have certain items or titles. I'm realistic, though, I totally understand that this is not my own personal collection :) We have to cater to everyone's tastes and keep our collections as general as possible. I do get that, even if sometimes I feel that it's not varied enough to suit my tastes (e.g. steampunk titles and m/m titles - did I not predict that those were going to take off and we'd be left behind? Then I see that Publisher Weekly predicted the same damn thing *shakes head* and now it's acceptable/respectable enough to house in our collections - that'll be a post for next week geez I can feel myself getting hot under the collar already). But I still have that, 'Oh, I wish...' feeling about certain titles. There are times I feel like donating my own personal dvd collection to our library just to make up for what I see is a deficit *snorts* But that so ain't gonna happen. So, here's my list of top 5 western movies I'm totally gutted we don't have in our library dvd collections anymore/ever:

Honourable mention:
My name is Trinity (1970) starring Terence Hill & Bud Spencer, directed by Enzo Barboni
A drifter comes to town where his brother is sheriff. His brother is actually a robber who broke the real sheriff's leg and left him for dead. -- IMDB.com

Tosca's note: Total spaghetti western! I grew up watching Hill/Spencer movies and these are, in my mind, a classic. Although, yes, came out in 1970 so extremely dated and yet I wish we had it so others could see the brilliance/silliness of them. Shoot, if I had to choose between this and frickin' 'Carry on' movies I'd take this anytime. Sequel: Trinity is still my name (1971).

High noon (1952) starring Gary Cooper & Grace Kelly, directed by Fred Zinnemann
A marshall, personally compelled to face a returning deadly enemy, finds that his own town refuses to help him. -- IMDB.com

Tosca's note: 'Do not forsake me, oh my darling...' Classic song, classic movie and it won 4 oscars. We did have it at one stage but no longer. I'm guessing maybe it didn't go out all that much but oh, how I wish we'd kept it. That scene at the end where Cooper throws his badge down? Unforgettable.

Young guns (1988) starring Emilio Estevez, Kiefer Sutherland, Lou Diamond Phillips, Charlie Sheen & Dermot Mulroney, directed by Christopher Cain
A group of young gunmen, led by Billy the Kid, become deputies to avenge the murder of the rancher who became their benefactor. But when Billy takes their authority too far, they become the hunted.

Tosca's note: As modern westerns go, this was pretty damn cool. Murder, revenge, good looking men (what do you mean 'good looking men' is not enough of a reason to hold on to a dvd??), lynch mob and justice. What more do you want in a cowboy movie? I also remember that two lines in particular went on to be used in the rap song 'Regulators' by Warren G:
* Regulators, mount up!
* Regulators, we regulate any stealing of this property and we're damn good, too. But you can't be any geek off the street, gotta be handy with the steel, if you know what I mean, earn your keep.

Wyatt Earp (1994) starring Kevin Costner, Dennis Quaid & Dennis Hopper, directed by Lawrence Kasdan
Wyatt Earp is a movie about a man and his family. -- IMDB.com

Tosca's note: A lot of people rated this as a crap movie but I enjoyed it. Semi-biographical, star-studded cast although outrageously long - something like just over 3 hours long.

Tombstone (1993) starring Kurt Russell, Val Kilmer & Sam Elliott, directed by George P. Cosmatos
A successful lawman's plans to retire anonymously in Tombstone, Arizona, are disrupted by the kind of outlaws he was famous for eliminating. - IMDB.com

Tosca's note: Six words, really: Shootout at the OK corral. Amen.

Silverado (1985) starring Kevin Kline, Scott Glenn, Kevin Costner, Danny Glover, Jeff Goldblum & John Cleese, directed by Lawrence Kasdan
A misfit bunch of friends come together to right the injustices which exist in a small town.

Tosca's note: Action, adventure, murder, gunfights, robbery, jailbreak, corrupt ranchers, dodgy sheriffs, henchmen & Goldblum as a bad guy - she shoots, she scores!

'Happiness is the sublime moment...

2010-06-09T22:49:00.009+12:00

...when you get out of your corsets at night.'
~ Joyce Grenfell

But don't women look fabulous in them until that moment? Corsets are...well, they're stunning. Something about them makes me go 'Ooohhh.' It could be partly tied up in why I enjoy historical romances (the good and the bad novels) - that era of contradiction. Every thing about the time was about delicate sensibilities yet the clothing, in my mind, was the dead opposite - the plunging necklines, so much flesh on display, everything pushed up and primped and made vulnerable looking. It's absolutely delicious! Depending on your bent (or kink as it were) the diverse range of corsets makes my head spin. I've seen the odd the beautiful, the tacky, the sensual, the fantastical, the practical, the most ethereal and the most ugly designs thanks to Twitter, Tumblr and good old Google.

Wednesday is my weird, strange, oddball book title/cover or image post and Thursday is my video clip of the week post. I thought I'd do a 2-in-1 tonight. If there's one name I connect with corsets it's that of Maya Hansen, a corsétière, and the images above are all her design. I guarantee you would never have seen anything like her work before. So there are no books tonight - just corsets galore. If you get the chance, check me out on Tumblr because there are some more corset images there, too, that are just as fantastic as these. And yeah, they're not to everyone's taste.

'More than Santa Claus...

2010-06-08T19:46:00.006+12:00

...your sister knows when you've been bad and good.'
~ Linda Sunshine

It's Tuesday - which means this is a 'my family & other animals post.' This is where I usually share some funny/heartwarming/sad/oddball story about my family. With 8 other siblings and 2 madcap parents you can bet I have LOTS to share. The conversation I overheard earlier this evening was between 2 of my sisters (who think that because I'm typing I can't hear them).

My sisters and I are all kinda close. Most days it's the kinda closeness where you all get along really well. Other days it's that kinda closeness where you could easily whack each other over the head with a shovel and consider it a job well done. There are 2 things that are absolutely off limits if one calls it first and they are: shoes and men. In that order. How does it work? Like this: if we're out shopping and Jaqsin sees a pair of shoes that are to die for and she says MINE then none of us are allowed to buy them, and that goes the same for men as well. Death to she who disregards the oath of the sisterhood. One of my sisters, France, is hmm, 'with child' I believe is the delicate expression. Yeah nah, she's up the duff and hormonal to boot. Can't wait till she and another sibling have their babies. Both this month, I might add. France came to visit this evening and I was sitting here going through staff blogs, commenting, checking progress, tweeting, watching YouTube clips, generally looking at subversive stuff (as you do on the interwebs) and muttering to myself. One such rather foul curse elicited the following conversation between France and Rongz (yet another - but not pregnant - sibling):

France: Is she talking to herself?
Rongz: Yeah.
France: She do that a lot?
Rongz: Yeah.
France: Swearing, too?
Rongz: Yeah.
France: Huh.
Rongz: Some mornings I'm not sure who's going to wake up and greet me - the polite librarian or the dirty, potty-mouth.

Tosca: I can actually do both, you know.

France: Huh.

The image is of France & Tiana-Jade (aka Miss 6) who, incidentally, had to get her hair shaped like that after Mr. 6 got in a grumpy with her and hacked off a chunk of her hair *winces* It has grown back and is very long now but it's still a sensitive topic. Eep.

Book review: Changeless by Gail Carriger

2010-06-07T17:34:00.006+12:00

Title: Changeless (book 2 in the Parasol Protectorate series)
Author: Gail Carriger
Publisher: Orbit
Year: 2010
Genre: Steampunk romance
Verdict: 4 out of 5 stars (I took off one star for grumpiness - that ending ROCKS but SUCKS majorly)
Synopsis: The story opens with Alexia enjoying married life when, thanks to her husband having to rush off, she finds herself playing sleuth again and following him, only this time the circumstances are not what she's prepared for. And that's when things begin to get really interesting.

I blame Gail Carriger for breaking my book mojo. I read, on average about 20-30 books a month. A lot of these I review for our library website or add to our library romance newsletter. But I haven't been able to review a gosh darned thing since I read Changeless (which, by the way, I harassed our acquisitions people into buying, ostensibly for our customers but really for ME). It really did make me re-consider how books end, and why I bother to follow some series at all. You know what I mean? Do I continue to read a series because I initially enjoyed the first one or do I read it because, each time, it gives me something different? More often than not a lot of authors I drop along the way to book nirvana because I consider them formulaic after a while. I didn't want to be picking up books that made me feel flat and ho-hum. I can get that in real life. Without a doubt, that is most definitely not Ms. Carriger's problem.

I could be very pithy and reiterate my initial summation of Soulless (first novel in the Parasol Protectorate series): 'Read it. Fell in love with it. Want to marry it. Desperately waiting for the next instalment in the Parasol Protectorate series.' That comment would still hold true for Changeless only the feeling is slightly more barbed and, considering the cliffhanger ending, even more desperate. By the final few pages I was, in turns, gasping in shock, teary eyed, enraged, full of sympathy for Alexia while all for kicking Lord Maccon in the unmentionables and then consigning him to the devil. It is a phenomenally clever and yet devastating way to end a book. I remember sniffling and putting it down and thinking, 'Oohh-ho, dirty pool, Ms. Carriger - dirty pool!' The woman is a freakin' genius for that move alone! And yet I detest her also because the release date for the third novel is aaaaaages away.

I am a fan of steampunk - and I absolutely adore steampunk romance. I love it to bits if it's well-written, cleverly constructed and leaves me with the sense of the fantastical minus the cliché ending - make me WORK for it. Does Changeless do that? Abso-frickin'-lutely. But what I enjoy most about Carriger's novel is not the paranormal, horror aspect, the LOL moments or the quirkiness of the characters (although, certainly, those alone go some large way toward the book as a whole). What I really love is the witty conversation. At times, I can almost hear Elizabeth Bennet in the back of my mind. Before television, before computers, before cars, people made an art out of conversation. I yearn for those times and that almost lost art (and maybe the very cool corsets, too, because those are some kinda hot - all of that 'touch me not' that really means 'oohh, yes, touch me there').

Dear Ms. Carriger, I await Blameless with much eagerness and anticipation. But be warned, and this is all your own fault, I'm expecting even greater things ;)

Note: I entered a contest on Gail Carriger's website, hence this review. Do I expect to win? Hell to the nah. But I sure as crap hope to convert a few colleagues/newsletter subscribers who drop by my blog sometimes.

'Every man dies...

2010-06-05T19:40:00.007+12:00

...Not every man really lives.'

~ William Ross Wallace

Title: Deadline
Author: Chris Crutcher
Publisher: Greenwillow Books
Year: 2007
Genre: Teen fiction
Verdict: 5 out of 5
Synopsis: Given the medical diagnosis of one year to live, high school senior Ben Wolf decides to fulfill his greatest fantasies, ponders his life's purpose and legacy, and converses through dreams with a spiritual guide known as "Hey-Soos."

What if you only had one year to live...and you knew it?

"Going out quietly is a lot more complicated than I thought."

My apologies in advance for the long-ass book review! The synopsis doesn't even begin to touch on how great this book really is. Yes, at the heart of it, it's about an 18 year old who, in his last year of high school, suddenly finds out he has one year to live - but it encompasses so much more. When Ben's doctor requests an appointment with he and his parents, Ben decides to turn up alone. With a mother who is a manic depressive/alcoholic, he's convinced it can only be news that will make the home situation rockier. And he's right. Ben has an aggressive blood disease and, as a result, has only a year at the most. With treatment it may extend his life a little but not by much. It seems like there is only one choice: to undergo treatment. But Ben surprises the doctor by adding different decisions to the mix: to not seek treatment, and to not tell anyone. And by 'anyone' I do mean anyone: his father - who holds the home fort, especially when mum has her 'down' sessions because he's in for better or for worse - even though he could never have seen just how bad 'worse' could be; his younger but bigger brother who is the other half of himself; his mother - who would hear it but would think it was her fault and probably never come out of a funk if she were told; and his coach - who has become a surrogate father with whom his relationship is a lot more relaxed than with his own.

Ben wants his life to be 'normal' and at the same time that's never going to happen because he changes things as a result of his impending death that ensure the next 12 months are going to be above and beyond anything he ever knew. He quits cross-country and tries out for football, decides to go all out to get the girl he loves to notice him, makes friends with the local town drunk, asks his coach about a deeply personal event nobody ever really talks about, constantly challenges his bigoted civics teacher, learns how truly conservative his hometown is and finds his own voice. When his relationship with Dallas Suzuki (the girl he loves) becomes deeper than he thought it ever could be, he starts to realise that maybe not telling the truth about his life-expectancy means that people won't have a chance to face it head on, only it gets harder and harder to find the time to tell it and tell it well. And as the 12 month deadline looms closer he finds that it's his worry about the wellbeing of the people he will leave behind that matters most.

It's an event filled year (to say the least) and, as if dealing with the people part isn't hard enough, he's having internal conversations with Hey-Soos (an alter-ego of sorts, and yes, it's pronounced Hey-Soos when it could just as well be Jesus) in his sleep. The wise-cracking bathrobe and sandals wearing Hey-Soos who keeps trying to show him that not telling people about his condition is one big fat lie. Not only is it a lie, but it denies the people who love him, and are around him, the chance to deal with it however they need to and, in the end, may make it harder on them. Especially when it seems like people are making future plans that include him.

'Deadline' shows us characters who are so flawed they just have to be real: the town drunk with his own terrible secret; the weird on the outside but beautiful on the inside Dallas Suzuki with her own twice-over heartbreaking story; the high school bully with the secret that everybody knows but doesn't talk about out loud; Ben's own crazy but not crazy mother; his father who is physically there for he and his brother and cares for them but never really talks about what's going on with the mother.

I love Crutcher's books - they're never middle of the road stories and are always provocative and hardhitting. This is the same but, in a way, I think it hits home harder for 2 reasons: you know right from the outset that the character is dying; it makes you think about your own life and the quality of it. I cried buckets. In fact, I was in tears from the first chapter to the very end, but it's a cathartic crying (yes there is such a thing). Ben is brave and wise beyond his years and his ability to deal with it the way he does is both scary and beautiful and inspiring. This is a brilliant read - it devastated me and inspired me time and again throughout the reading. Now I have to go and force everybody I know to read it. I'd recommend reading Crutcher's aubiogiography, also, it's a hoot from cover to cover: King of the Mild Frontier: An Ill-Advised Autobiography (2003).

'There is a bit of insanity in dancing...

2010-06-03T21:14:00.005+12:00

...that does everybody a great deal of good.'
~ Edwin Denby

It's Thursday (right up until midnight, anyway) and this is my 'video clip of the week' post. And it's a good 'un! Yes, I would say that, because I like it and this is my blog so I can do that ;)

Two words: Ricardo Montalban. If I had to add another word it'd be: Rroowwwwr! What do you mean that's not a word? GTFOH. Watch this clip and THEN tell me that it's not a word LOL

When I was a kid, gran used to love watching ballroom dancing competitions on tv and sometimes, when visiting her, we'd sit and watch it together. She was a harsh judge. As an adult I know damn well that I have all the rhythm of a dying fish but I console myself with the fact that to hear the music, and to feel it, is more than enough to understand it. Sometimes, though, I can't help thinking that if I had rhythm too...well, wow me. Perhaps if I'd had Senor Montalban as a dance instructor, as Ms. Moreno and Ms. Turner do here, it might have been screeds more fun. I heart the contrast between the fiery style of Moreno and the cool, calm Turner. Personally, I prefer Rita Moreno - isn't she just fabulously beautiful?? And oooohhh, '...in the stable.' Scandalous :) Enough about me - on to Ricardo!

'Books are...

2010-06-02T23:22:00.006+12:00

...the blessed chloroform of the mind.'
- Robert Chambers

Oohh it's Wednesday! That means this post is an image/book title that caught my eye. I have a good one and I'm half serious/half jest about the question it raises in my mind. I like the title because you don't get this particular ethnicity much. I've also requested this book but it seems I have a bit of a wait. Apparently lots of other women want to read about the ribald Russian ;)

Title: Ruthless Russian, lost innocence
Author: Chantelle Shaw
Publisher: Harlequin Mills & Boon
Year: 2010

Synopsis: Violinist Ella Stafford isn’t used to parties, so it’s little wonder she’s overwhelmed by brooding Russian Vadim Aleksandrov! The throbbing, raw attraction takes fragile English beauty Ella out of her depth... and into his arms! Soon she finds herself sharing his Mediterranean villa, attending glamorous parties and showered with luxuries. Ella should feel elated. Yet there is darkness in Vadim’s past that even Ella’s virginal sweetness cannot penetrate. But will the baby she’s carrying force him to learn to love? -- Publisher description.

It's not often that I see a Russian (let alone a brooding one at that). I can probably count on one hand the number of times I've seen them pop up in Mills & Boon novels. Is it that they're not counted as being sexy/hot enough? That's one question. The other is how come I've never seen a Charming Czechoslovakian (buggar trying to type that all the frickin' time, geez)? Or a Hung Hungarian? Really I tried to think of something else instead of 'hung' but got caught up on it. Too much? Yeah, too much. Sorry. I'd pay good money (or give up my dinosaur lollies for a week) to maybe see a Vehement Venezuelan or even a Pungent Puerto Vallartan (ok, now I really am yanking your chain).

'The informality of life...

2010-06-01T19:01:00.006+12:00

...is a blessed condition that allows us to become our best while looking our worst.'
~ Marge Kennedy

I would like to point out that this is a picture of lungs and NOT tubes. There is method to my madness. Some days. It's Tuesday - all day today - which means that this is a 'My family and other animals' post. Today's family member worth mentioning is Markhiem, my 13 year old nephew.

Markie turned 13 a few days ago and it's awfully cliché but it seems like just yesterday he was asking for more Winnie the Pooh stories. I remember his first day of school - it was a toss up who was going to cry first, his mum or me. In the end we both did. I taught him to read when he was 4 and back then he loved books so much. Thanks to a crappy school system they undid everything and now he hates reading. Awesome. Doh.

This conversation took place just a few minutes ago and I was torn between snorting with laughter and rolling my eyes. In the end I did neither for fear it would lead to more questions I definitely didn't want to answer (especially when I know I it's my own fault, I shouldn't mutter things I don't want to have to explain).

Tosca: So it is Harriet the Spy?
Markie: No.
Tosca: So it's Blog Wars?
Markie: No.
Tosca: But you said it was one or the other?
Markie: No.
Tosca: No, wait...yes you did!
Markie: No.
Tosca: *muttering to herself* I'm not having children. I'm so getting my tubes tied.
Markie: What are tubes? Are they like your lungs?
Tosca: *blinks rapidly* Yeah, sure. They're your lungs.
Markie: Why would you get your lungs tied?!

Check out my tumblr - there's a spectacular picture there (that I did not take). Over and out ;)

'A good book should leave you...

2010-05-31T21:50:00.009+12:00

...slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading it.'
~ William Styron, interview, Writers at Work, 1958

Sometimes, though, you lose your book mojo and feel like you live several lives just opening the cover let alone trying to read a complete novel. I think that's what happened to me. I lost my romance novel mojo. For most of May I was picking books up, taking them home and reading them without really getting anything out of them. As a result I haven't posted a review to our library website all month. Ack. That's not an indictment on the authors, either, it's more about my headspace. Probably the whole birthday-ambivalence thing. For someone who produces 2 romance newsletters a month, losing your mojo is a big bucket of wtfery, right there. It hasn't quite come back, but I can feel a tingle. A possible resurge. A mojo-less Tosca has to be ignored, though, because books have to be read, reviews have to be written and newsletters have to be sent out. Were those moods just hot flashes? At 35 I'd hope not but who really knows. Let's not call them hot flashes. Let's call them 'intense, short, tropical vacations' instead. Makes me feel better. As Kalani tells me, 'To-may-to, po-tah-to.'

As usual I have books up to my eyeballs so I'm only going to list a couple that have caught my eye over the last week or so. I started 2 books just yesterday, both of which are below.

Title: Little girls lost by J. A. Kerley
Publisher: HarperCollins
Year: 2007
Genre: Crime
Synopsis: "Children are disappearing in Mobile, Alabama, the latest snatched from her own bedroom. There are no clues and, as yet, no bodies. Homicide Detective Carson Ryder is called in to investigate the abduction of little LaShelle Shearing only to find the case getting tangled up in murky departmental and civic politics. And with his partner Harry Nautilus fighting for his life after being viciously attacked, Carson is feeling increasingly isolated. Public rage is now reaching dangerous levels, and Ryder's bosses turn for help to ex-Detective Conner Sandhill whose uncanny ability to spot connections and details missed by others is legendary - but who left the department under a cloud. Ryder and Sandhill form an uneasy alliance in the hunt for the missing children, a hunt which becomes all the more urgent for tragic personal reasons. But at the root of these disappearances is something truly evil{u2026} and its source is closer to home than either could have imagined." --Publisher. (Image courtesy of FantasticFiction.co.uk).

Briefly: I enjoy Kerley's writing and I really like Carson Ryder as a character. He's a little bit imperfect, has a serial killer for a brother and genuinely wants to do the right thing. It probably also helps that I heart Harry Nautilus, Carson's partner :) Have only just started it (as in the first chapter) and yeeaah definitely liking it much!

Title: Mark of the demon by Diana Rowland
Publisher: Bantam Books
Year: c2009
Genre: Paranormal romance
Synopsis: "Why me? Why now? That's what Beaulac, Louisiana, detective Kara Gillian was asking herself when an angelic creature named Rhyzkahl unexpectedly appeared during a routing summoning. Kara was hoping to use her occult skills to catch a serial killer, but never had she conjured anything like this unearthly beautiful and unspeakably powerful being whose very touch set off exquisite new dimensions of pleasure. But can she enlist his aid in helping her stop a killer who's already claimed the lives--and souls--of thirteen people? And should she? The Symbol Man is a nightmare that the city thought had ended three years ago. Now he's back for an encore and leaving every indication on the flesh of his victims that he, too, is well versed in demonic lore. Kara may be the only cop on Beaulac's small force able to stop the killer, but it is her first homicide case. Yet with Rhyzkahl haunting her dreams, and a handsome yet disapproving FBI agent dogging her waking footsteps, she may be in way over her head...."--p. [4] of cover. (Image courtesy of FantasticFiction.co.uk).

Briefly: I'm a sucker for any story set in New Orleans. Yes, I know that there are other places in the world to visit, but since I was 8 I'd wanted to see New Orleans. Having done so, I could quite easily go back there time and again. The mix of old world history, spirituality and modern beliefs is fascinating. Just started this, love the cover, enjoying it so far :)

I've been playing in Tumblr - not with any great intent, but geez it's so easy to use. Hell, if I can do it anyone can do it. It's so simple to post a video clip, an image, a link, a quote or even an audio clip *sigh* I think I'm in love with it :) You can check me out on Tumblr. Ask me a question or post a response. Go see it if only to check out the 'starfish porn' image. Pretty colours! Jesus, I'm shallow. And...I'm over myself.

'The family. We were a strange little band of characters...

2010-05-26T22:34:00.009+12:00

...trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.'

~ Erma Bombeck, 1927-1996, American humourist and columnist

In this post, the common thread is Doctor Who. Sometimes, though, you'd like to take that common thread and wrap it around their ears and string them up from the nearest street light, geez. This is a double up post because I was 1) too lazy and 2) too grumpy at siblings to write one up last night - you know how it is with siblings: can't kill 'em, can't bury the bodies deep enough!

My family and other animals
I've been mining Kalani's brain for Top 5 Goodies for our work blog (what a scary and dangerous place that is). His most recent list was his 'Top 5 Doctor Who episodes' - the kid is a major fanatic. He dictated his list to me, I yanked the relevant details out of our catalogue and then he gave me his reasons for why he liked each episode. I took exception to his telling the blogosphere that I sob my little heart out while watching Doctor Who episodes (although work friends & family know I cry at ads, tv series, books, movies, etc). I had promised him that his comments would be wholly his own, and in his own natural language (and considering sometimes how 'fresh' he can get I'm lucky it wasn't worse). The following is a snippet of that conversation:

Kalani:*dictating to Tosca* ...and you cried really loud.
Tosca:*stops typing* No way.
Kalani: But you said!
Tosca: Yeah but not that.
Kalani: But you said!
Tosca: Fine. No more lists from you grr.
Kalani:Fine. No more hugs for you.
Tosca: Strangely, I can live with that.

The end result:

Episode: The end of time - part two
Kalani's note: Sad - the Doctor visits all his friends to say goodbye. Tosca cried really loud.

The above conversation saw us confirming, once again, that all of his Top 5 list comments will remain unedited. No matter what *gulp*

Book titles/images that catch my eye/funny bone
My Wednesday posts are usually oddball book titles etc. (and intermittent ones at that) but I've decided to make it book titles/images that catch my eye (for whatever reason - maybe no reason at all). So here's today's image - courtesy of Passive Aggressive Notes. Some days I want to hang this around my neck:

'The worth of a book is to be measured...

2010-05-24T19:59:00.008+12:00

...by what you can carry away from it'
~ James Bryce, 1838-1922, British historian and politician

The two books listed below are ones I am finishing (for the 2nd time) and beginning anew. It is the 1st title that I believe fits the quote most accurately. It's Monday which means this is my 'On the shelf' - what I'm reading - post.

Working in the back section of the reference library means that I don't get half the chance I used to for viewing new books. Everything used to come through Acquisitions, Processing and Cataloguing - which meant that I could mosey on down and have a looksee at all the pretty new books. I love the smell of new books. They signify new possibilities, new hope, new adventures and new life. Now that we outsource a lot of our buying and cataloguing I have to be three times as vigilant as branch staff about keeping up to date with new stock. It's not a hardship because I genuinely love reading. It sounds so...twee to admit that. It's almost (but not as dodgy sounding) as a teacher saying, 'I loooove kids.' Thanks to my beady eyes I'm kept very busy requesting anything and (almost) everything. I won't bore you with indepth reviews, I'll briefly list the book details (with a link to our catalogue), the synopsis and a couple of sentences about my thoughts.

Title: Everything I need to know I learned from a children's book: life lessons from notable people from all walks of life

Author: Anita Silvey

Publisher:Roaring Book Press

Year: 2009

Genre: Adult nonfiction

Synopsis: "What children's book changed the way you see the world?" Anita Silvey asked this question to more than one hundred of our most respected and admired leaders in society...The lessons they recall are inspiring, instructive, and illuminating. And the books they remember resonate as influential reading choices for families. Everything I need to know I learned from a children's book, with its full colour excerpts of beloved children's books, is a treasury and a guide: a collection of fascinating essays and the gift book of the year for families." -- Publisher's description.

Briefly: Brilliant. Quite simply, books change lives and all of the people who were open enough to share why they chose one title over another are proof of that. Overall, I had read (or had had read to me - thanks, mum) quite a few of the books listed. There were only a few that I hadn't and, one day when I get time, I might follow those up and read them. Enjoyed it so much I've read it twice.

Title: Broken (book 2 in the Fragile series)

Author: Shiloh Walker

Publisher: Berkley Sensation

Year: 2010

Genre: Contemporary romance

Synopsis: "Quinn Rafferty is working as a bounty hunter for a private detective agency in St. Louis when a new neighbor catches his eye. He's drawn to her-but he has his own soul to mend before he can worry about anyone else. Sarah McElyea is on the run, but not for the usual reasons a woman goes on the lam. She has a plan for her future. And as much as she finds herself attracted to her gruff, tough neighbor, she can't risk telling him the secrets she's hiding. But Quinn must get closer to Sarah when she turns out to be the target of his new missing persons case, and both Quinn and Sarah will have to expose their true feelings-as well as their fragile hearts-if their love is to survive." -- Publisher description.

Briefly: I picked this up from the 'smutty books bin' this evening - I love the cover. It's not quite team chest and most definitely not team back. It is most certainly team biceps/team tree trunk thighs/team enigmatic-&-mean-looking, though :) It is part 2 of Walker's 'Fragile' series which pisses me off no end (close your eyes if you don't want to read a library rant) because we've gone and gotten part 2 but there's no frickin' part 1. I KNOW this drives our customers nuts because they write in or bail me up at the desk when I'm at Manurewa and tell me so. And they're right - it's facking irritating GRR. Other than that, I enjoyed the story which had a bit of a twist at the end that I didn't see coming - possibly because I was too lazy, more likely because I was totally oblivious! Between you and me, I've yet to see a guy looking like that leaning against any of our walls here in South Auckland, but maybe I'm hanging out on the wrong street corners. With good reason. Am not so sure I care to be mistaken for a 'woman of the night.'

'A book is a gift you can open...

2010-05-22T17:07:00.010+12:00

...again and again.'
~ Garrison Keillor

I don't know about anyone else but I always judge a book by its cover - adventure, suspense, kids, teens, romance, graphic novels, audiobooks, large print (although those are sometimes in a class of they're own because there's something truly awful about most of those covers). Whatever part of the collection they come from they have about 3 seconds to grab my attention. Having said that, I don't want them to be too obvious. Like...hmm...some Mills & Boon covers are too obvious. Not to mention that some of the poses look 1) sexually intimidating or 2) uncomfortable or 3) unnatural - what man looms over a pregnant woman against the railing of a yacht looking like he wants to hit her and hit on her at one and the same time, I mean, seriously. Really? No.

So, how does any of this fit into my book cover of the week post? I popped into the library this afternoon to pick up a few holds (had to wrench myself away from a marathon re-watch of Torchwood season 1) and thought I'd mooch around looking at covers. See which one gave me the giggles. Didn't find anything. Not one. Got back home and was playing online - you know, that 6 degrees of separation works like a dream on the interwebs - and came across the gem below. And a sparkling, little geegaw it is, too :) We do not have this book in our branches but oh my how I wish we did. I would read it for that cover alone.

And so, I want to know:

* If a 'book is a gift you can open and again,' is it still a gift if it looks anything like this one?
* Or is it a curse?
* And if you do ever open it again, is it just to get the cover out of your mind?
* And WTF is up with his hair?!

Reaction:

'We're jammin' it...

2010-05-20T21:45:00.008+12:00

...and we're skanky...'
~ Absolutely NOT a lyric by Sweet & Irie

Yesterday I misheard a Sweet & Irie lyric. Probably not life threatening as things go but slightly mortifying because what I heard (and was joyfully singing out loud) was 'We're jamming it and we're skanky' when, in fact, it is 'We're jamming it and we're skanking.' Big difference. Huge difference. One is a cheap, nasty woman of 'loose morals' (i.e. slutty) and the other is a rhythmic form of reggae dancing. Yeah. Those are two very different things. Dancing - tarty. Dance - tart. Dancing tart. Ooh.

How does this tie in with my videoclip of the week post? Quite well, actually. Warning: roundabout explanation coming up as to exactly how. This week's clip is not a new one. I remember someone sending the link to me sometime last year and I snorted and guffawed so hard I almost fell off my chair, right before I quickly sent it on to everyone else I know - yes, all 2 of them. And then forgot all about it. Yesterday, after realising my lyric mistake I sent out a tweet about it and received a response from @idletick: heh, I'm really bad with mondegreens, least I'm not as bad as that ken lee chic though. http://bit.ly/NDzCy - she's right. Nobody can be as bad as that Ken Lee chic. I can't even explain it. Just watch it. And don't blame me when you pee your pants laughing. Thanks to @idletick for the giggles :)

Please note: a mondegreen is 'a word or phrase resulting from a misinterpretation of a word or phrase that has been heard.' (according to Dictionary.com)

Sweet & Irie are a local Manukau band and you can them on My Space, Facebook and Muzic.net. The particular song I misheard was 'Sweet & Irie' which you can view on YouTube.

'Family is just accident...

2010-05-18T20:26:00.004+12:00

...They don't mean to get on your nerves. They don't even mean to be your family, they just are.'
~ Marsha Norman, 1947, American playwright, screenwriter & novelist

Sometimes, though, the things they say are a serious WTF moment. The kinda moments that make you wonder sometimes if you really are related. It's Tuesday which means this is a 'My family and other animals' post where I relate one conversation very kindly provided by nephews, niece, siblings or parents that beg to be shared. The subject of this particular post is my youngest sister (the baby of the family).

As kids we would all tease other unmercifully. There used to be a running joke in our family that our dad was the milkman and we would rag each other about it, giggling and making fun. My siblings used to tell me the reason I was fairer than them was because I was adopted. Some days I used to wish that were so. Even now, at 35, I wonder if some king & queen aren't still looking for their lost little Maori princess. I remember telling my sister one day that she was adopted. She said to me, 'I'm going to tell dad,' and I said, 'Which dad? 'Cause you know that's not your dad.' I distinctly remember thinking it hilarious at the time. Not even being grounded detracted from that.

There is a 14 year difference between my youngest sibling and myself and ohmygosh she was one ugly baby. I swear, put her near a monkey cage and it would have been hard to tell the difference. And she always cried. Looking back, I'd like to think I thought that way becase I was 14 and inherently selfish but I'm not so convinced. She really was an ugly baby. Obviously she didn't stay that way and, over time, even stopped crying. As a school child she was stricly a 'colour in the lines' type - never questioned anything, did as she was told and was, generally, a dutiful child. Then puberty hit and she became the antiChrist almost overnight. These days, at 21, she's an expectant mother and still inhales books like they're oxygen. She gives me a run for my money! For all of that reading, though, she is sometimes incredibly naive and unaware. I remember reading the Harry Potter series about 10 years ago and handing her a copy. She devoured it in one sitting and has been a fan ever since, but a conversation we had when she was 16 always makes me think I should have insisted she read more nonfiction. LOTS more.

Amiria: You know the owls in Harry Potter?
Tosca: *reading a book* Not personally, no.
Amiria: No, but you know them right?
Tosca: *sigh - still reading* Yeah.
Amiria: I think it's cool that they were made up just for the movie.
Tosca: Yeah, cool. *silence* No, wait. *puts book down* What?
Amiria: Owls. They were made up just for the movie -
Tosca: No they were not.
Amiria: Yes, they were, because -
Tosca: No, I'm pretty sure they weren't. In fact, I'm almost positive they existed in real life. Before Harry Bloody Potter *trying not to be sarcastic but seriously failing*
Amiria: So, like, owls...?
Tosca: *firm voice* Real.
Amiria: So, like, Hedwig...?
Tosca: *firm voice* Very real.
Amiria: Really? Wow! That's so weird! *wanders off*

'Reading is a discount ticket...

2010-05-17T20:25:00.004+12:00

...to everywhere.'
~ Mary Schmich, 1953, columnist for the Chicago Tribune

If that's the case then, this week alone I have supped with werewolves, survived the walking dead, been a voyeur to all kinds of gay male romance goings on, travelled to alternate worlds on a spaceship, had high tea in Victorian England and celebrated a vampire mating. All of that in the last 7 days. As social calendars go...that isn't too shabby.

It's Monday, which means this is my 'On the shelf - what I'm reading' post. Thought I'd list a few books I'm currently reading or have just finished. There's an odd assortment here and I have tried to put them into some sort of order (after a fashion). They are:

General fiction - links to our library catalogue

The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho - for book club (you know, the first rule of book club is...). This is a re-read for me

Paranormal - links to our library catalogue
Wolfsbane and Mistletoe anthology by Charlaine Harris, Patricia Briggs, Keri Arthur, Carrie Vaughn and others

The New Dead : A Zombie Anthology edited by Christopher Golden - scared myself stupid with this one and slept with the light on afterwards

Romance - gay male - not held in our libraries, links to GoodReads
Duty & Devotion by Tere Michaels - the first book in this series was a tearjerker and I remember crying my eyes out. This one didn't quite yank at the heart strings but was just as good
I'll Be Your Drill, Soldier by Crystal Rose - well, wall to wall sex, really (which has its place, come on, admit it)
Love & Loyalty by Tere Michaels - a hot cop who doesn't use his handcuffs after work (shame, really)
More by Sloan Parker - 3 guys (no girl, no pizza in sight and will set your eyebrows on fire - needless to say, not held by our libraries LOL)

Romance - erotica (involves 2 guys and a girl - still no pizza) - links to GoodReads

Victorious Star by Morgan Hawke

Fortune's Star by Morgan Hawke (from the Hard Candy anthology - haven't read other stories yet, raced to Hawke's one first)

Romance - paranormal - links to library catalogue

Lover Mine by J. R. Ward (book cover belongs to 'team chest' category)

Romance - steampunk - links to library catalogue
Changeless (book 2 in the Parasol Protectorate series) by Gail Carriger - It has a cliffhanger of an ending. I know this because I shamelessly raced ahead and read that bit first. I am wholly unapologetic about that. Dirty pool, Ms. Carriger! It's months till the next one heh

Nonfiction - links to library catalogue

Outside of a Dog: A Bibliomemoir by Rick Gekoski - just started

Quick book cover giggles

Well, I never! Seriously, I never seen anything like this on a cover before. Found this while playing online. Couple of things come to mind right off the bat:

Where is her hand? I mean, is it really where I think it is? *sanity check*

Why does he look totally unmoved by her action?

How come she looks more coolly curious than anything else?

How did this one slip past staff?

Accidental or on purpose?

Funny in that laugh-out-loud-while-groaning kinda way ;)

'The secret to staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly...

2010-05-16T23:29:00.004+12:00

...and lie about your age.'
~ Lucille Ball, August 1911 - April 1989), comedienne, film/tv/stage/radio actress

I don't have much of a problem lying about my age because ordinarily I don't remember it. It's not something I think about every day - it's a part of your identity, right. Why would you? I don't wake up every morning and think that I'm straight, even though I am (although I wouldn't turn down some 'quality time' with Captain Jack Harkness and Doctor Who at the same time). I don't sit around all day thinking that I'm a girl (even though I so obviously am). Nor do I wonder why my eyes are brown. These things just...are. My age is pretty much like that. I don't think about it, it's just there, and when people ask how old I am it takes me a few moments to count it all up. When I have to count, though, it always takes me aback and is usually accompanied by a sinking-feeling like, 'Whoa, where did the years go? Am I really a grown up, now? Can I not be a tan-Peter Pan forever?'

My birthday ambivalence is legendary in my family - I detest my own birthday. Quite happy to go out of my way for others, buy presents and big, fat, chocolate-gooey cakes (that's more for my benefit than theirs, really) and do the whole loot bags thing for the little kids etc. In fact, I suspect I get into that more than they do. But I'm a real slacker in celebrating my own birthdays. I've always found them to be dissatisfying, somehow. Ever since I was young and barely had the words to explain why. In past years, it's been a time of getting presents that weren't me, and pretending to be happy with it and celebrating it with what felt like people who didn't take the time to know what would really mean something to me. Which seems much worse when it's your own family. Drama queen, much?

I think it was possibly an amalgam of things that made getting older a tad bit traumatic: feeling like I hadn't really achieved anything of note (by whose standards I'm not sure because surely that sort of pressure only came from myself?); presents that didn't really capture anything about me (did I truly have the personality of a car seat cover, a cowboy hat, a bracelet, a book by an author I didn't like?); general feeling of something half missing. I solved a third of that problem about 10 years ago. I decided to start asking people for what I wanted for birthdays. It's half worked. I also decided I should buy myself some effing fantastic birthday present each year that would blow my black skull & crossbone socks off of my feet. I have kept this tradition :) Only I know what I truly want, yeah? As for the other third of the problem, the general air of something missing, hmm, not so sure about that one. What to do or what it could be. And the last part - the 'omg my life is wasted, what have I achieved, what the hell have I done with my life, it's such a waste, I'm such a loser' thing - that used to be the hardest. I used to have this weird internal clock that would tell me where I'm meant to stack up in terms of quality of life (you know, Nobel Peace prize, cure cancer, write a bestseller while helping the homeless etc.) but this year I'm going to hit the snooze button on the clock and think differently. This year, to hell with my expectations of me! No pressure is my gameplan. So tomorrow, when I turn 35, I'm going to sleep in, finish reading a book, have lunch with 3 of my 6 sisters, have a few drinks and just enjoy it. To being 35! May it only happen once. Unless you own a TARDIS. Then really we must talk ;)