So, yesterday while I was at work on the Circulation Desk, two teenage girls were prowling sheepishly around and after a spell approached my supervisor and asked for books on sex tips. I should probably share at this time that one of the girls was most likely pregnant because she's always checking out What to Expect When You're Expecting, etc. I don't think I'm out of line assuming there's a bun in the oven.
My first thought was, well, young lady, do you really think you need any help in that area? I think you figured it out all on your own! Followed by, maybe we should skip the sex tips for a little while since that's what got you in your little predicament to begin with. Call me a cynic.
So my supervisor sputters and proceeds to ask them twice what type of tips they were looking for, making me turn a few shades of ruddy, not to mention mortifying the girls who have to say it louder and louder at his request. When asked later, he said that he was shocked that they would even ask and was hoping that they'd change their mind about their inquiry since he was trying so hard to embarrass the shit out of them. He then attempted to direct them my way, which was an epic fail because I quickly started helping another patron, much to his dismay. All in all it was so entertaining watching him struggle to help these teens while his head was silently screaming WTF! Oh, it was classic...
After he sent them on their way to the shelves for their fornication manuals and my patron was assisted as best I could, a gentleman walks up, makes a beeline straight to my supervisor and asks for the Michigan State Law and other information on sex offenders. Evidently, sex was the topic of the day and no one enlightened us with that tasty tidbit. I thought I was losing my bloody mind! Just another special day in the library! :)
Friday, February 11, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
My spiel about dreadlocks...
About a month and a half ago, I got dreadlocks. I had them before, (twice before now, took them out both times for a guy, different guys, and it was stupid, of course.) It's funny because this time, it was a nagging need to have them back, perhaps to find that part of myself that existed before these a-holes came along and stole all my dignity, or maybe just because I got so sick of styling my hair for hours everyday. There was tons of reasons that I wanted them back, but I found that I had a much harder time deciding whether or not to go through with it. I'd say honestly, I wasn't even one hundred percent sure at the time I was riding up the elevator to the small studio where I was going to get them done.
Why was I having such a hard time? Well, a couple years ago I decided I was going to be a librarian, not an artist/corsetierre after all. With this decision, came a lot of changes for me. For one, I bought nicer and more professional clothes, I started wearing heels, washed my face of the rock star makeup and took out the piercings that were visible. I chose a more conservative environment and I had to fit into it the best I could to be successful. Along with this, I had to honestly consider things that I would do to my body and my appearance. My hair color faded to more natural colors and my tattoos were covered, to never be seen by peers and other staff members. It took about 6 months for me to wear a skirt, due to a rather large tattoo on my shin and even longer for me to decide that I would get a half sleeve and just buy more sweaters. Well despite everything else, the dreadlocks were the most important and seriously a much bigger deal. Dreads don't just get covered up and go away so no one notices them. They're different and most people have this really stupid misconception that they're dirty and smell on top of it.
So I fought with myself for months over whether to really go through with it, thinking all the worst case scenarios, I would lose my job, not be able to get another one due to discrimination (even though I'm highly qualified), which would lead to homelessness and all sorts of other terribleness. It scared me to death really. Underneath everything, the thought that a decision that I made could ultimately ruin my future and my career in one fell swoop was nauseating.
So, I went to Toronto and got them done by my favorite (and only) Loctition Karen at Knot Just Dreads, sat for 4 hours to have my hair turned into a masterpiece.
I had a bit of a nervous breakdown afterward, all of my anxieties about what could happen suffocated me all at once but after a little chat with my Mom, I felt relieved and excited about my new locks. First day back to work was scary, but my boss was overall very sweet about it and commended me on having the guts to be different. Since then, I've feel the blessing of having them every single day. Every compliment I get lets me know that I did the right thing and sometimes (most of the time, really) what makes you happy is the most important thing. It makes other people happy too, and in many cases, it helps them to re-evaluate why they didn't like it in the first place. My very presence forces people to think differently than what they usually would and that makes me proud to be who I am. I'm a professional woman, intelligent and very good at what I do, I just have dreads and I'd like to see someone challenge that. I'll answer every question you have about them, no matter how silly (like do you wash your hair, how long does that last, etc?) and I'll do it with a smile on my face because now they can stop judging other people for having dreads. I like making a difference, it's what I do just by being different.
Moral of the story? Be who you are, and everything else will fall into place.
Why was I having such a hard time? Well, a couple years ago I decided I was going to be a librarian, not an artist/corsetierre after all. With this decision, came a lot of changes for me. For one, I bought nicer and more professional clothes, I started wearing heels, washed my face of the rock star makeup and took out the piercings that were visible. I chose a more conservative environment and I had to fit into it the best I could to be successful. Along with this, I had to honestly consider things that I would do to my body and my appearance. My hair color faded to more natural colors and my tattoos were covered, to never be seen by peers and other staff members. It took about 6 months for me to wear a skirt, due to a rather large tattoo on my shin and even longer for me to decide that I would get a half sleeve and just buy more sweaters. Well despite everything else, the dreadlocks were the most important and seriously a much bigger deal. Dreads don't just get covered up and go away so no one notices them. They're different and most people have this really stupid misconception that they're dirty and smell on top of it.
So I fought with myself for months over whether to really go through with it, thinking all the worst case scenarios, I would lose my job, not be able to get another one due to discrimination (even though I'm highly qualified), which would lead to homelessness and all sorts of other terribleness. It scared me to death really. Underneath everything, the thought that a decision that I made could ultimately ruin my future and my career in one fell swoop was nauseating.
So, I went to Toronto and got them done by my favorite (and only) Loctition Karen at Knot Just Dreads, sat for 4 hours to have my hair turned into a masterpiece.
I had a bit of a nervous breakdown afterward, all of my anxieties about what could happen suffocated me all at once but after a little chat with my Mom, I felt relieved and excited about my new locks. First day back to work was scary, but my boss was overall very sweet about it and commended me on having the guts to be different. Since then, I've feel the blessing of having them every single day. Every compliment I get lets me know that I did the right thing and sometimes (most of the time, really) what makes you happy is the most important thing. It makes other people happy too, and in many cases, it helps them to re-evaluate why they didn't like it in the first place. My very presence forces people to think differently than what they usually would and that makes me proud to be who I am. I'm a professional woman, intelligent and very good at what I do, I just have dreads and I'd like to see someone challenge that. I'll answer every question you have about them, no matter how silly (like do you wash your hair, how long does that last, etc?) and I'll do it with a smile on my face because now they can stop judging other people for having dreads. I like making a difference, it's what I do just by being different.
Moral of the story? Be who you are, and everything else will fall into place.
Friday, October 2, 2009
So this is it!
I just wanted to start off by saying, that I used to write...a lot. I had journals filled with poetry, and pain and even doodles of teenage angst and tattoos. This one-time passion of mine disappeared out of view a long time ago. The one thing I regret most about its recession into shadows? I really had a good grasp on who I was and what I was going through because it was right there in front of me, in black and white. Therapeutic, of sorts, and ultimately some of the best creative times for me. This is my effort to tap back into that volatile creative energy that is lying dormant in my brain. I'm ready for it. Are you?
I should probably throw out there that this will not be poetry and sadness. That was the Nicole from 10 years ago, and I'm going to leave her back there where she belongs. This is intended to be a running captains log from my cruise through life. Crazy shit happens to me, so I intend to get it down and hopefully entertain a few friends along the way. For example, the guy that was stuck with me in a minor traffic jam yesterday, and the sauve way that he nodded and waved his sandwich at me, like that's hot. Really? I'll have to remember that technique the next time I'm trying to take someone home with me. Oh and just to throw in a little more interest. Truckers and homeless people want me to be their girlfriend. I'm still trying to figure out the living arrangements on that one, but hey, I guess most men don't consider that stuff when they see someone even mildly attractive.
Ok, so for the title I want to just embellish the idea of the biker librarian concept for you. I'm going to school to be a librarian. Grad school is crazy. I intend to take the field of library and information science and tweak it into something rad. I am not and will not be your typical mousy librarian. I have tattoos and peircings, I love fast cars and motorcycles, sex in atypical places, rock concerts, etc. That being said, I'm going to start ( I should really check to see if it's the first) the very first biker librarian gang. I know a few people that have expressed interest, so don't snicker to yourself and think I'm being unrealistic. This is it, people. My alter-ego will prevail!
I should probably throw out there that this will not be poetry and sadness. That was the Nicole from 10 years ago, and I'm going to leave her back there where she belongs. This is intended to be a running captains log from my cruise through life. Crazy shit happens to me, so I intend to get it down and hopefully entertain a few friends along the way. For example, the guy that was stuck with me in a minor traffic jam yesterday, and the sauve way that he nodded and waved his sandwich at me, like that's hot. Really? I'll have to remember that technique the next time I'm trying to take someone home with me. Oh and just to throw in a little more interest. Truckers and homeless people want me to be their girlfriend. I'm still trying to figure out the living arrangements on that one, but hey, I guess most men don't consider that stuff when they see someone even mildly attractive.
Ok, so for the title I want to just embellish the idea of the biker librarian concept for you. I'm going to school to be a librarian. Grad school is crazy. I intend to take the field of library and information science and tweak it into something rad. I am not and will not be your typical mousy librarian. I have tattoos and peircings, I love fast cars and motorcycles, sex in atypical places, rock concerts, etc. That being said, I'm going to start ( I should really check to see if it's the first) the very first biker librarian gang. I know a few people that have expressed interest, so don't snicker to yourself and think I'm being unrealistic. This is it, people. My alter-ego will prevail!
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