Indecision and abivalence

I worry that this blog post could spiral into complainy-land, so consider yourselves warned. I will follow this (*promise*) with a happy post about my kickass Sunday and Monday mini-holiday with my fabulous mum (that should balance the universe out, right?)

Disclaimer #2: this post was written while under the influence of codeine. Fasten your seatbelts, kids!

Well, here's some of the book news I've been shocked/appalled by today, for starters:

• The ongoing saga of dragging poet Derek Walcott through the mud concerns me. First of all, I don't even know if I believe this story - it seems ... a bit off. Secondly, I desperately don't want to believe it, because I like Walcott. I had the pleasure of hearing him speak at Blue Met about 4 years ago, and he dressed down Donna Bailey Nurse - it rocked. Nurse was going on about wanting to read about the black experience when she was growing up, not Anne of Green Gables, in other words, and Walcott squashed her self-righteousness by emphasising the human experience. I am hesitant to even write about this because, evidently, I am standing on thin ice as part of a Caucasian, English-speaking majority, but I think he had a valid point about the importance of reading about other communities and other cultures, both to explore them and to empathise with a collective human experience. So, Walcott, good luck with this shitstorm, and I hope the accusations are false. Amidst my fury, Bookninja's take made me snort with derisive laughter.


• To balance out the poetry universe: "so sweet and so cold" - listen to WCW read aloud. Thanks, Guardian! At the very least, the preamble about what a wife is, and about the so-called the rape of the icebox, is ... um.... illuminating?


• I'm very pleased with the winners of the Doug Wright awards for Canadian comics, and amused to see Martin Levin (of the Globe) use the spelling comix. Levin is correct in saying that we produce a fine crop of comic genius in Canada, and my crush on Seth continues unabated after reading his interview in last weekend's Globe. My crushes on Adrian Tomine and Michel Rabagliati are bigger, but that's another story.


• How come I didn't know about The Children's Book Bank until now?

What follows is mostly bad news...

• Why is BE ending? He/she provides me with most of the Quebec library news I need!


• Good article arguing against closing libraries in NYC. Reminds me a bit about something that we at OPL articulated about what libraries really are recently after coming under fire for having video games in the collection: "We are not simply warehouses of books. Libraries are ... about people: their ideas, hopes, dreams, and memories.... As long as we continue to define ourselves as providers of service, rather than tying ourselves to a particular format, we are never in danger of becoming a repository." Indeed, in these trying times, especially in the US, people are re-discovering the variety of ways in which the library as community network, and a living hub of activity (as well as ideas!) can support them.

And now for the truly depressing: Today's posts are brought to you by the letters C-O-D-E-I-N-E because I have somehow managed to develop a partially collapsed lung! Not only is this totally idiopathic, but it hurts like the dickens. The meds aren't even helping: they just make my arms and legs feel heavy, but the pain continues as is. I'm currently vascillating about going to the hospital tomorrow - for better drugs or a confirmation of the diagnosis, given that I'm not even sure the clinic doc saw my x-ray yet.

It started at work yesterday (I was back @ Rideau Branch, packing up personal stuff in my desk - to bring to my new desk at my new job at St Laurent Branch - now that Rideau's staff area is not covered in tons of stuff as it was during our recent 5-month reno). I got really short of breath and had a stabbing pain in my left side and shoulder (imagine the worst running cramp you've ever had, x1000, while an evil monkey is stabbing you with a Swiss Army knife in the shoulder!). The more short of breath I was, the more faint I felt. I left at lunch, and my mum and husband drove me to a clinic, where the rushed and almost rude doctor on duty diagnosed based on poking me, gave me my scrip, and sent me for a chest x-ray. Problem is, he didn't say how long this takes to resolve itself... Apparently small bubbles (or blubs) can go away in a week or two. Time that I don't have, of course, since I should be working on: 3 outreach visits to schools (one I just cancelled today since it's tomorrow), regular program prep, my presentation for CLA Conference, organising the pub crawl for CLA Conf., promo for our LANCR AGM (we're getting Beth from BiblioCommons to speak!), etc. Oh, and now my plans to run the half-marathon at Race Weekend are shot. Grr. On the bright side, my life is generally going less badly than that of one of my favourite bloggers, NPW. Teeth traumas scare me. I'll take my inability to breathe, thanks, although I realise that's not very logical. I also think the gods are truly out to get both of us.

I am going to out up one more post about my fun weekend, and then I am going back out onto the balcony with my drugs, my blanky, and my reading material. I'm embarassed to admit to being absorbed in quasi-literary fluff at the mo. My excuse is that I have a lot on my mind... I need a break.