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Transitioning into liminal space

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(no subject) [May. 22nd, 2018|07:06 am]
Transitioning into liminal space

I'm having one of those spans of time where I miss a bunch of people and feel sad about not seeing them enough. I mean, I feel that way frequently, but I feel it a lot right now. It usually doesn't last more than an hour or so and I suspect it indicates something going on neurochemically.

But I care about you all and miss talking with you or otherwise interacting with you as much as I'd like.
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(no subject) [May. 21st, 2018|07:23 am]
Transitioning into liminal space
[State of Being |awakeawake]

From Friday last week, because I was brain-dead.

Miniature Book Fortress

Then the books all fell over and two librarians rushed out of their offices to make sure we were ok. Oops.

From where I sit at work, a low wall, probably four feet high, blocks my view of the seats and tables along the window facing the street. This morning, someone I didn't know was there just got up from one of those seats and for just a moment I thought someone had levitated up from the street outside our fourth-floor window.
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(no subject) [May. 18th, 2018|07:37 am]
Transitioning into liminal space
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I got on the Brown Line train out of the Loop. At the first stop, I switched cars to get away from the loud angry shouting person. At the second stop I switched cars *again* to get away from two loud angry shouting people who I thought at first were fighting with each other but then realized they were having their own individual fights on their phones with persons unknown. At the third stop, I realized I was supposed to be on the Pink Line and got out of the train to get onto one going back to the Loop.

I was only fifteen minutes late to work.

I took the train because after all the biking plus dog-walking yesterday, I am wiped out.
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(no subject) [May. 17th, 2018|11:52 am]
Transitioning into liminal space
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To my surprise, I biked about 40 miles yesterday. 13ish to work, 6ish to therapy, 4ish to visit Dee, 15ish riding around the 606 path with them and then going home to Evanston.

On the way from therapy, I started feeling light-headed and shaky. I stopped to get some Gatorade and made it the rest of the way to Dee's place, where they had some pizza ready for us. I think that helped a lot!
We laid down and snuggled for a while, which was not only relaxing and enjoyable, but probably helped me recover too. I was still feeling a little off when we set out on our bikes, but after some low-speed riding I was feeling mostly normal again and made it home without any issues.

I've biked to work three days this week for a total of 80 miles, which will hopefully become pretty typical for me.

As I got stuff out of my panniers for work this morning, I discovered a missing pair of my underpants in there. I'd wondered where those got to.
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(no subject) [May. 10th, 2018|10:35 am]
Transitioning into liminal space
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And on the topic of academia:

I saw someone at work yesterday wearing a Syracuse-orange-colored shirt and immediately had a fifteen-second reverie of shame, self-blame, and unworthiness, thinking about all the people my brain keeps telling me I've failed and let down.

So that's still happening.
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(no subject) [May. 10th, 2018|10:21 am]
Transitioning into liminal space
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[State of Being |thoughtfulthoughtful]

Random thoughts that a Calvin and Hobbes comic on Facebook (the one here inspired today:

The more I've thought about this kind of joke in the context of my own experiences with academia, the more I've wanted to analyze why this is funny despite its apparent trivialization of areas of the humanities that are important to me.

Academic journals are intended to be a conversation between specialists about complicated topics with arrays of nuance that require the construction of terms and phrases to refer to them. Those concepts do not exist in common understanding outside the field, so to discuss them readily, people familiar with them have to create their own 'code' if you will, to refer to them.

This is true in any specialized discipline. If I look at high-level physics, for instance, I have far less of a clue what is being expressed than I do in something like the title of Calvin's paper there. Just like published articles in humanities journals, hard-science journals are not written for a lay audience; they are written for other experts. Being understandable to the public is not a significant concern. (That is, indeed, a problem in itself, and science needs to be more accessible in many ways to many more people. But that's its own topic.)

So I have to wonder why incomprehensible humanities jargon gets made fun of so much more often than incomprehensible hard science jargon. Maybe it's because people have a sense that they already know about the topics being investigated by the humanities researchers? That these things are simple enough that people who are making them so hard to understand must be either engaging in intentional elitist posturing, or are disconnected from the underlying, far more simple, reality?

It's a strange double-standard. Hard-science research gains credence when it's so complex as to be incomprehensible to the layperson. Humanities research *loses* credence when it's so complex as to be incomprehensible to the layperson.
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Library Diversity [May. 8th, 2018|01:14 pm]
Transitioning into liminal space
[State of Being |happyhappy]

One thing that makes me really happy to work here, and I think speaks well of libraries in general too, is the composition of the meeting I just attended:

Of the 16 people, 12 were women, and 7 were people of color. Sadly, you won't find ratios like that very often.
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(no subject) [May. 8th, 2018|08:26 am]
Transitioning into liminal space
[State of Being |awakeawake]

The weekend trip was wonderful! I'll talk about that soonish.

Getting sick on Sunday evening with a bad stomach-ache that lasted through Monday evening was less good. I felt uselessly icky and was in bed through about 3 in the afternoon. I finally ate some mac-n-cheese and drank some milk, my first food of the day, because it seemed like it would be easier on me.

I'm doing much better today, thank the powers that be.

I also managed to thoroughly lose the SIM card for my new phone before inserting it, so I'll have to order another one. And the clip-on mirror for my glasses for my bike. And I forgot the badge I need to clock in at work. And I can't find the headlight for my bike either.

And I have this weird pin-point pain in my head that isn't a headache, and is intermittent, but feels weird and hurts if I touch it.

It's one of those Mondays. And it's not even Monday.
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(no subject) [May. 4th, 2018|10:08 am]
Transitioning into liminal space
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[State of Being |excitedexcited]

Despite an earlier miscommunication about scheduling, I got Longing, my three-season bike in for a full tune-up at Uptown Bikes. It's a woman-owned bike shop that focuses on commuters and has staff who know their stuff. It's only slightly out of my way to go there on the way home instead of the bike shop around the corner from where I live, and I'm happy to put in the effort.

I took the train from work to pick Longing up. Zie has a shiny new front wheel, chain, and cassette, the slightly loose headset is snugged up, and the brakes are nice and snappy. Riding was a real pleasure for the three-quarters of a mile I made it before a minor adjustment issue caused the chain to pop off the rear gears. I replaced it, then tried to duplicate the issue to make sure it wasn't a fluke. It happened again, but this time I couldn't get the chain back on. Oops! I walked back to the shop and got a quick fix, then rode about half a mile before realizing I'd left my U-lock at the shop. Oops! I rode back to the get the U-lock, then finally headed home.

By the time I got there it was quarter after the start of my volunteer shift with the doggies, and I hadn't eaten yet, and I was going to leave early to get keys to our former housemate N who's catsitting for us this weekend. I decided it made more sense to just stay home. Maybe I'd play with Factorio a little more; it's been a long time.

Instead, I shortly realized that I wasn't just tired; I was exhausted. I laid down and fell asleep, turning off the 8:30 alarm I'd set so I could go out and meet N. I figured I'd just wait for Danae to get home. She did, and after struggling valiantly to get me out of bed, we drove out to do the handoff.

I was feeling more awake than I'd expected to this morning given the trouble I had sleeping. That didn't last too long into my ride to work though. The headwind was brutal. I hope it keeps up until I leave; I love cruising along at 20 miles an hour and pedaling like I'm going 10.

This evening, Danae and I are leaving for House on the Rock and the Don Q Inn, among other things. I've been there several times, but she's never had the experience. I'm excited about seeing her reaction to the place.

My new phone will supposedly be there when I get home. I got an email two days ago from UPS saying a delivery was scheduled for yesterday. No such delivery occurred, but I got an email late in the evening saying a delivery was scheduled for today, and this time the tracking status actually has an update. It's rather bigger than my present phone and may take some getting used to.
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(no subject) [May. 1st, 2018|08:13 am]
Transitioning into liminal space
[State of Being |contentcontent]

I had a lovely ride home yesterday in weather that was warm enough to forgo jacket or vest for the first time this year. It just makes life a little better in general to be out like that, enjoying the sun.

I apparently haven't settled into a rhythm though; this morning I realized, after arriving, that I forgot to pack a shirt to change into for work. I turned my t-shirt inside out in a restroom stall and somehow strained a shoulder muscle while changing. If it's not better by 3:30 I'll end up taking the train home.

Michelle dropped by to visit Danae and I last night. It was nice to see her; it's been quite a while. We talked about how we both want to take a road trip in the future. I really miss driving around on my own with a camera and a list of kitschy things to see. I might just do that some weekend this month.


It's that time of year again! Jonathan Coulton's "First of May" with ASL. (Contains language that is not appropriate for most work-places.)

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