Port Timberbottom Library: Redbee Branch

The Break Room

The break room looks like the set of Mister Rogers’ kitchen in era and functionality, with the addition of a shabby couch and chair — old church furniture.  One wall of plywood cabinetry, painted “Indian Red,” a metal sink, coffee maker, electric can opener, microwave, tall refrigerator.   The round card table in the middle of the room seats four or so; there are, of course, fifteen main employees (not all librarians — some are grad students).  There is pressure to have the best homemade leftovers — fast food is just not done, lunch meat sandwiches tolerated but not remarked upon.  Tamara cannot leave the fridge alone.  She is in her early forties, Argentine, and always brings salad and a can of peas or anchovies or something strange.  She spends the rest of lunch doing detective work (“Whose is this?” “What’s been here the longest?”)  Wynn drinks coffee and shouts people down if they have not read this week’s New Yorker.  

The oft-discussed topic of “The MAIN Library” yields two factions: those who have worked there and those who have not.  The “haves” tend to win more culinary challenges.  The “have-nots” are petitioning for WiFi.  

All of this is far too srrious.

The world only gets me down because I’m a lightweight. I arm-wrestle like a tulip and take a punch like a birthday cake. Time to be staunch. S-T-A-U-N-C-H.

Day of Atonement and Reckoning

The Furies Pose for Easter Pictures

Thank you, Justice (S) and Mercy (W). Thank you to pies and hats, sisterhood and sacrifice, hysterical laughter in the choir seats, honesty and offensive hand gestures, soft rock and Wii, and a stack of t-shirts with a bow. Thank you, Jesus.

To Each Generation is Born …

One Chosen, one Watcher, one Vampire Bait. And Santa Monica is saved again this year..

It’s been a salty day.

Dancing would make it better, but I don’t dance, or at least, I don’t have the capability to form my body into shapes and motion that would eradicate tears.  But some humans do, and to them I turn (awkwardly, without spotting):

La La La Human Steps does a lot of these herky-jerky pas de deux, from what I gather on YouTube. They’re based in Montreal, and in the vicious eighties** they performed with David Bowie, and by that I mean at one point this chick, Louise LeCavelier (who looks like she got the magic pendant from Teen Witch and used it to punish Amsterdam sexually) lays Bowie like a plank across her knees as she squats … and also lifts him in the air … and pretty much stole some life goals of mine. Do you want to see that? It’s actually a little boring, but once the memory of it is in your head, it’s incredible.

** attributed to Aaron Alexis and “Promise”

But my favorite video of theirs I have already shared on Facebook, thanks to Cassandra. It is called Amelia. 

“Where have you been??!!”

Poem [Lana Turner has collapsed!] … by Frank O’Hara

Lana Turner has collapsed!
I was trotting along and suddenly
it started raining and snowing
and you said it was hailing
but hailing hits you on the head
hard so it was really snowing and
raining and I was in such a hurry
to meet you but the traffic
was acting exactly like the sky
and suddenly I see a headline
LANA TURNER HAS COLLAPSED!
there is no snow in Hollywood
there is no rain in California
I have been to lots of parties
and acted perfectly disgraceful
but I never actually collapsed
oh Lana Turner we love you get up

Insomnianemic

 

Le Sucque

Zombie Aplomb: A Life in Death, and other autobiographies I will write

Part 1

Everyone Who Has Ever Touched Me, Ever

Frockudrama

Accidentally Quoting Hitler