Rachel's 2016 Mix Tape

Well, it has been a while. Things have been things and they have been happening. I've collected my thoughts on 2016 into this mix tape of music. I don't apologize at all.

Side A: looking back

On a rough year:

On a personal matter:

On departures:

On living through this shit:

Side B: looking up

On what it is:

On what you are:

On how we do it:

On when it starts:

Friday jams (11/21/2014)

Erin:
I was on vacation last week and was woefully under prepared for jams-time. Not so, this week!

I was listening to the Lydia Loveless album this week and the last track is a cover of the Kirsty MacColl song "They don't know." I didn't know it was Kirsty MacColl song, let alone that it had been covered by Tracey Ullman. For those of you who are too young to remember, Tracey Ullman's sketch comedy show is where the cartoon The Simpsons got its start.

Anyway, here is the Tracy Ullman version of the song:

And the Kirsty MacColl version:

Rachel:

Have I ever told you about the Cher Index of Personal Wellbeing? It's a scale I use to measure the level and nature of stress that I am under.  It uses a scale of 1 - 10, with 1 being not stressed at all.  I'm pretty sure that's on a logarithmic scale. Levels 1 - 7 can be measured by how much Cher you're listening to on your daily use personal device.  It's not normal to listen to no Cher, as it is unhealthy to have no stress.  But when you start to seek Cher out, to listen to large chunks of Cher, things might be getting bad.  Levels 8, 9, and 10 are all videos, and, well, maybe another time.  I'm rocking about a 6 or a 7 on the Cher Index of Personal Wellbeing, so we're going to watch the most hilariously bored horse of all time. Yeah, I know, I know, but Cher.

READER JAMS!

Friend-of-the-blog Jessica Olin responded to Rachel's post yesterday with her go-to jam for psyching herself up, and we share it here with you.

An Abundance of Whelming

I have recently taken on some new administrative responsibilities. It's been about a week and literally a thousand emails. (possibly more. there is a lot of email.) I'm really honored that I was chosen to do this work, I take it very seriously, and I want to do it right. Dealing with the idea of moving closer to being a full-time administrator is different than dealing with the reality of additional administration duties.  There is a lot of whelm involved.

I have great mentors, including our friend Jessica Olin from Letters To A Young Librarian, who are always there if I need a quick vent or a longer chat. I have faith in my skills, I know what I'm doing. There is this other level, like how I need a bigger container in which to store my whelm.  We all encounter it at some time or another.  Earlier in the week, two poems came to mind as thought devices for reflecting on my current whelm-excess.

The first to consider is Things to Think by Robert Bly. This is possibly the only poem by Bly I really like, as he's guilty of a lot of broetry, but I like this one quite a bit. Here goes:

Think in ways you've never thought before.
If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message
Larger than anything you've ever heard,
Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats.

Think that someone may bring a bear to your door,
Maybe wounded and deranged; or think that a moose
Has risen out of the lake, and he's carrying on his antlers
A child of your own whom you've never seen.

When someone knocks on the door, think that he's about
To give you something large: tell you you're forgiven,
Or that it's not necessary to work all the time, or that it's
Been decided that if you lie down no one will die.

This is for a feeling of yes, yes I can do this. I can do all of the things and do them well and make a real change. It is possible. Anything is possible. Anything at all.
I like the frame of impossible things as well: things you have never thought; impossible improbable things; important things.
A poem for when you've got a nice warm cup of whelm with room for cream.

But let's be honest, it's not like that. Not most of the time. It's like this:

Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

If Not Waving But Drowning by Stevie Smith isn't already one of your favorite poems, I am sorry for you and I feel like maybe you weren't raised right. Thankfully we've remedied that now.


I think about this poem every time I am overflowing with whelm. It says everything I feel and everything I need to hear.



What do you turn to in your times of stress, what helps you get through transitions? Let me know, especially if it is a modernist poem.

Keep Rockin',
Rachel

P.S. also, this song is a good one for the subject:

Friday Jams (11/14/2014)

Rachel:

I've got several jams for you to illustrate how my mind works.  We start off the week with my post conference jam:

This song by Robbie Fulks is everything to me after a lot of social interactions.  And from there we go to Robbie singing an old standard:

And from there we get to the original, my real Friday Jam.  oh my god this video, it is everything.

Now Erin seems to be still on vacation or something, so I'll go ahead and post this, I'm sure she won't mind at all:

Conference Power

Academic libraries can be lonesome, especially for folks in areas where there are not a lot of people (like my field of acquisitions). When you're already in a place like that, and you're trying to build the constructive summer, it can be, you know, a little

There are so many paths of new doctor who references I could follow from here, but I'm not going to follow any of them! Admire my restraint!

Just like Erin talked about earlier this week, we gotta take care of ourselves.  Part of that is recharging personally in things like vacations, or playing games, or building elaborate blanket forts, or building elaborate cakes to share with me. Another equally important part of recharging is taking a break professionally.

Stepping away from our daily duties to think big thoughts about what we do, to see what other people are up to, to meet and talk to people who are both as tired of the day to day and excited about the possibilities that exist, to drink new and exciting beers in new and exciting towns.  Yes, my friends, I'm talking about going to a conference.  While it is possible for a conference to be hard work, I also find them extraordinarily rejuvenating.

I just got back from my conference, the Charleston Conference, and I have a TON of new ideas, and a TON of leads to follow up from vendors, and a TON to share with y'all and maybe even a new research project or two. And I'm excited about it all. Again. It happens every year.

The level of interaction with other people can be overwhelming, and the lack of sleep can wear, but I suspend all rules at conferences because the returns on fully engaging are so high. If I wish one thing professionally, it would be a way to get a real conference experience to folks who don't have the means to regularly get to regional or national conferences.

 Go Conferences!

Here's a bonus song about feeling alone and how that's true and not true.