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I’m sure I should be busy getting stuff done for the big move tomorrow, but instead I have built a playlist for our “I Hate Boys Club”. This is volume 1, with others to come, I’m sure. The goal of our club is actually not a bitter one in that we only hate boys and not men. Unfortunately, we have met relatively few actual men- that is, men who behave like men and not children, so there is a lot to discuss about the ridiculousness of boys in general. We have a fairly broad agenda, as you can imagine.

One wise friend of mine (also a member of the IHBC) has come up with a theory: boys do not know what they want in any way. They might think they do. They might profess feelings that indicate they know what they want. But in reality they just do what they feel like until something confuses them, then they drag you down into their mess right along with them. They can’t simply figure things out on their own, they must also ruin anything good that they can along the way.

In any case, I feel that the IHBC vol. 1 compilation album is a satisfying melange of angry girl rock, alt fury, and a smattering of lamenting “why do boys suck so bad?” ballads. Feel free to make yourself such a playlist, making any appropriate modifications to fit your current mood.

Recipe to rock your socks off:

Not The Doctor 3:47 Alanis Morissette
The District Sleeps Alone Tonight 4:46 The Postal Service
You’re No Rock N’ Roll Fun 2:37 Sleater-Kinney
The Old Apartment 3:22 Barenaked Ladies
The Denial Twist 2:37 The White Stripes
What’s My Age Again? 2:29 Blink-182
Erase/Rewind 3:38 The Cardigans
Shameless 4:52 Ani DiFranco
Least Complicated 4:11 Indigo Girls
The Sound Of Settling 2:12 Death Cab For Cutie
You’re the Reason I’m Leaving 2:21 Franz Ferdinand
Boulevard Of Broken Dreams 4:20 Green Day
You Keep It All In 2:54 The Beautiful South
Mr. Brightside 3:43 The Killers
Numb 4:00 Portishead
Portions For Foxes 4:44 Rilo Kiley
Chocolate 3:11 Snow Patrol
Terrible Lie 4:38 Nine Inch Nails
That’s Just What You Are 4:25 Aimee Mann

I don’t understand New Year’s resolutions. First of all, does anyone ever keep them? Secondly, what’s wrong with who we are from year to year? There may be some things about my life I’d like to change, but why wait until January 1 to do it? Plus, how can anyone be expected to start their resolutions with a massive New Year’s Eve hangover?

I know it’s all symbolic, the changing of the calendar year mirroring the changes in our lives and all. I’m down with the metaphor. But I’m sick of the hype. So this year I’ve resigned myself to doing it up 200 Cigarettes-style, maybe meet myself a little Elvis Costello and wake up in Martha Plimpton’s apartment with my party hat still on. (Or just hanging out with some friends in a low-key bar setting. That’s good too.)

Side note: I think next year I want to have a masquerade party for New Year’s. A ball, even. Who’s in?

Merry vacation! Oh yes, thanks to all of you who prayed for me to get my iPod. Baby Jesus loves me after all! And it looks so cute in it’s tiny green tube.

I must ask, is there any better way to spend a week long vacation than sitting around in your pajamas in front of the fire listening to rad tunes on your new iPod nano and watching the entire season 4 of Alias? I mean, unless you have some awesome trip plannned to Costa Rica or something. Otherwise, I am perfectly content to lounge around, sleeping in and wearing pj’s 24 hours a day.

But actually I have been quite busy this vacay, painting and packing and shopping. Visiting. Drinking. Downloading cds like a madwoman into iTunes. So I apologize for the delay in writing, it just couldn’t be helped. I hope you are all enjoying your freedom as much as I, and if you are one of the masses who must report for work detail this week then I’m more than a little sorry for you. May I recommend joining the ranks of educators?

Yesterday I watched the episode of Felicity where Noel asks Felicity to go to Berlin with him over the summer, but at the same time she has to decide if she wants to drive cross-country with Ben. And Felicity goes to Ben’s loft and says she can’t drive with him because of their “almost kiss” moment, and because he and Julie just broke up, so he just gets up and kisses her and says, “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time”. I seriously almost cried at how awesome it was. That’s some damn good t.v. I will never get tired of Felicity and her college-y angst. It brings me back to my own college days, when the biggest thing I had to worry about was whether I should nap or go to class, and which kind of cheap schnapps I wanted for that weekend.

Although we did not get a mechanical bull for our Faculty Holiday Party this year, we did manage to have some fun. This is largely due to the fact that our guitar class was “hired” to play some holiday music. Our first gig! I knew I was destined to be a rock star.

Not only did I rock the electric bass in a rousing rendition of Jingle Bells, but I also played some mad percussion for Feliz Navidad. The crowd of teachers went wild, singing along and clapping. We got a standing O. I must admit, a tear sprung to my eye, despite the fact that I was blushing like crazy. “Wow”, the teachers commented afterwards, “we didn’t think you’d be so good. We just wanted to laugh at you.”

Well, colleagues, you underestimated my mad music skills. See that it doesn’t happen again.

“Classic: A book which people praise but do not read.” -Mark Twain

I know I don’t write much here about books or the things that I’m reading. This is mostly because who really cares what I’m reading? Just because I’m a librarian, it doesn’t mean that I only read quality literature. But I think once in a while I can throw some stuff in, since I have a captive reading audience and all.

Every summer I force myself to read a classic novel. By “classic” I mean something either from the Western canon, the Harvard Classics list, or one of the Great Books. I’d say I’ve read a fair number of them, at least more than most people can claim, but in the end I don’t know that they’ve enriched me any more than, say, Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude, or Augusten Burrough’s Running with Scissors, or Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy.

Over the summers I’ve slogged my way through Anna Karenina, Four Plays by Aristophanes, Nicholas Nickleby, Le Rouge et le noir (which I was supposed to read in a college course and never did), the Aeneid, and a few others.

Don’t get me wrong- it’s not that I didn’t enjoy some of these books. And I’m also not claiming that J.K. Rowling should replace Dickens in the annals if British literary history. I’m just saying that there’s room for lots of different kinds of literature in one’s head. Right now, for instance, I’m on a mini-John Bellairs kick. These formulaic Gothic novels intrigue me. They’re spooky without being overly violent and they’re well-written. Bonus: Edward Gorey did the illustrations for his books.

Because I was a Literature major as an undergrad I feel as though this summer ritual keeps me tied into academia in a way- a way that working with 8th graders can’t provide. But maybe this summer I’ll give myself a break and stick to the YA stuff. I do work in a middle school, after all. I can finally finish up the second and third summers of the traveling pants and get a foot in the door with the Princess Diaries. Sweet!

• Learn to drive the subway trains and city buses yourself. How hard can it be? Also, you wouldn’t have to make any stops other than your own. Glorious.
• Avoiding the people learning to drive the subway trains, just walk the underground subway tunnels to work. You’ll stay warm(er) AND you might discover a flowing pink river of slime deep below the city.
• Ride Johnny Damon’s body sled-style right into Rockefeller Center, once the Red Sox fans are done with him.
• Hire the homeless to pull you in a cart or a wagon for a cup of coffee and a bottle of Jack.
• Construct a molecular transporter. The time is ripe, folks. Step up to the challenge.
• Find jobs in the burroughs. Ha!
• Invest in a moped. They’re convenient, cheap on gas, easy to park, and so damn adorable. Especially the pink ones.
• Get Mommy and Daddy to drop you off at work. Don’t forget your lunchbox!

Otherwise, cancel your gym memberships and start buying long underwear because you’re going to be getting a lot of (cold) exercise in the coming weeks. Happy walking!

PS- I heard a rumor that the Scottish wonder Franz Ferdinand and my own fave Death Cab are going on tour together in the spring. Can anyone substantiate this? ‘Cuz that would rock my world.

Things are back on track here in Library Land, folks. Spine labels are being affixed, books are being shelved in proper Dewey order, and SLJ reviews are being read and duly noted. If only the rest of my life were in such a perfect state of organization and clarity, I could use that Zen superiority to solve all the problems of mankind.

So today I get the U.S. New and World Report with a cover that states 50 Ways to Improve Your Life in 2006. “Great,” I think, “they’ve already done all the work for me. Now I can just follow their guide. 2006 should be a snap.” Was I ever wrong.

Their advice includes tips such as: pull the plug on tech distractions. Check email hourly, not every 5 minutes. I mean, HELLO? What if a teacher had some kind of overhead projector crisis, or needed a suggestion for a book title by the next period? And I just lazily ignored my computer for over an hour? What kind of advice is this? Are they actively trying to get me fired?

Another tip from the geniuses: learn to multitask. Are there any jobs left that don’t require people to multitask? Even the term multitask is insulting in this day and age. 10 year olds are creating Power Point presentations and looking up images on Google and getting facts from their textbooks at the same time. If you can’t do more than one thing at a time, sign up for the nursing home today because I predict some serious problems for your 2006 future.

Some other brain busters: pay your bills online, meditate, dive into a life-changing book. Gee, U.S. New and World Report, where would I be without your divine wisdom? I can’t believe the journalistic sages you must have working for you. Thanks ever so much.

Ok, I didn’t mean to go into a tirade about the absurd magazine article, but I couldn’t help feeling that it’s ridiculousness directly applied to the ridiculousness that is my life. Conclusion: I’m sticking with what I’ve got for 2006. Because if it’s already better than what they’ve got over at U.S. News, at least I know I’ve got a leg up on millions of people.

Without going into the details of my sad-sack life, I think at this point I am allowed to say that this is officially the worst holiday season of my short life. Basically, it would take a Christmas miracle for me to muster up any red-and-green-type cheer this year. Or at least a break from this chest-crushing cough I’ve developed and kept for well over two weeks now.

On the brighter side, I did have another snow day last Friday, which allowed me to stay cocooned in my blankets for most of the daylight hours (and all of the dark ones), thus effectively sealing my fate as the official least-prepared-for-Christmas-person alive. I did get up for long enough on Sunday to brave Wal*Marts crowds in search of curling ribbon (at the request of my mother), and the mullets and bickering I encountered were enough to send me straight back to bed. I also managed to whip up a batch of my spiced pecans for my volunteers, hopefully the seniors will be able to chew them.

Maybe this is one of those times I’m supposed to encourage my readers to telepathically send me wishes for a wonderful 25th- you know, like when Santa needs Christmas cheer for his sleigh to work? But really I’d rather you just send me wishes that I get an iPod on the 25th. So don’t waste your wishes on Ms. Grinch.

“Hard-covered books break up friendships. You loan a hard covered book to a friend and when he doesn’t return it you get mad at him. It makes you mean and petty. But twenty-five cent books are different.” – John Steinbeck

It’s much the same with Christmas presents, don’t you think? How do you know an appropriate amount to spend on someone? What if you find the perfect gift for someone you think is a close friend and they buy you a pair of socks? Then, on top of the stress of the holiday season in general, you have to cope with the fact that your friends do not know you at all. At all, I say.

Common sense would dictate that we abolish the faux-liday season entirely. Except the songs. Those can stay as reminders of an age when people were actually religious.

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