Obsession of the Moment #1: The Library

After another long day of doing nothing productive, I have come to the following conclusion: The library is God's most magical gift to the world.

Well, you know, God or whatever deity you choose. The point is, the place is the bomb-diggity.

Last week Michelle and I started a weekly tradition wherein we go into town on Friday afternoons and spend time at the library before stopping at Dunkin' Donuts on the way back. We call it "Books and Beignets," although beignets may be too classy a term for goods that are obtained from a Dunkins located in a gas station convenience store.

Regardless, these outings (all two of them, thus far) are magical little forays away from the real world and into a world inhabited by people who are somehow way more interesting than you and I. Since I'm currently on a mystery-reading kick, my version of an interesting person is one who not only finds dead bodies strewn about in his/her immediate vicinity on a disturbingly regular basis, but who also manages to figure out without fail who did it and why. Every time.

The nice thing about reading is knowing that everything will come to a resolution at some point. I'm partial to happy endings myself, but even bummer endings are endings. No loose ends here, no siree. (If there were loose ends, chances are this thing wouldn't have gotten published.) If only life offered the same guarantee. (I mean, apart from the ULTIMATE ending, in which we all go to the big library in the sky.) But let's not get all philosophical here. Let's get back to the library, and why it is perhaps--nay, certainly--the best public institution there is.

First of all, it's FREE. What?! Free?! And legal?! Too much, too much. I mean, you could conceivably photocopy every book you ever borrow (although the legality of that is sort of questionable) and never pay for books again! (I feel like you'd run up a pretty hefty tab at Kinko's, though.) I love buying books, and I love filling my shelves with them, but I'm also a poor college student whose bank account averages about $40 from month to month. I can't go around buying books all willy-nilly. Plus, the last time I went on a book-buying expedition, two of the three were stinkers (and the third was a French-English dictionary, so it didn't really redeem the other two).

But with the library, there's no risk! No commitment! If it sucks, return it! If it doesn't suck, pretend you lost it and steal it for your personal collection! (Kidding. KIDDING.) I've discovered some of my favorite books and book series just by picking up random ones at the library, whereas when I go to the bookstore I usually have a very organized list of exactly what I'm looking for. (I'm not saying I don't get distracted, though.)

Second of all, the library is a freaking mystical repository for books that arguably "don't exist" anymore. What? Out of print for six years? Oh, hey, here it is on the shelf, just waiting for you. You're welcome.

Third: it's quiet. In bookstores, there's no guarantee, especially if there's a Starbucks or Seattle's Best Coffee smooshed in there somewhere. In the library, you might get shushed by the stereotypical cranky librarian, but dude, you probably deserved it. And that librarian is there to shush other people so you don't have to be "that bitch who told me to be quiet. Who does she think she is, anyway?" So you see, that librarian is actually taking the fall so you don't have to. Win.

Fourth, you can increase the size of your iTunes to the nth degree just by taking CDs out of the library. Again, this point is of somewhat dubious legality, but really, what can anyone do about it? And it's not like you're going to go out and actually buy "Christmas with the Brady Bunch," but damn if you don't want that crazy clan to serenade you during the holidays. Don't even deny it.

Fifth, you get to watch movies. For free. Without Chinese/Russian/Japanese subtitles and without Megavideo cutting you off. Score.

Sixth, and this is perhaps THE most magical thing: you get to put things on hold. No, really, think about it. It is the grown-up, tax-dollar-funded method of calling dibs. No need to sit around for weeks waiting for the object of your desire to become available; just slap a hold on that sucker and you get priority over all the other schmucks that want it. If only dating worked like this, life would be sooo much simpler.

In fact, my only complaint about the library is that they don't let me live there.

Pity.

All I wanted was soup, not the third degree

Ahhhh, election day.


Now let me preface the rest of this entry with the fact that I believe in one's civic duty to schlep out to the polls; my facebook political views are "People should vote," and I complain on a fairly regular basis about people who don't vote but complain about the state of the government. "If you didn't vote," I say (to my patiently-listening friends, not to the actual vote-shirkers), "what are you complaining about? You had your chance to change things and you didn't take it."


Now let me say this: I am not the most politically informed person. Don't ask me who's running for Congress in the state of New Hampshire today, because I don't know. Something that begins with a K. Kushman? Kuster? Who knows? I'm guessing s/he is a Democrat, though, since the majority of the college's "honk if you agree" sign-holders seem to be holding signs with his/her name on them.



Don't get me wrong, if a hot button election issue comes into my realm of knowledge, I'll know which side I stand on. And if I know what different candidates stand for, too, I can come up with a pretty good idea of who I'll support. But the problem is that it's just so HARD in modern American politics to tell what the issues actually are and who stands for what, considering that most political candidates spend most of their time spouting off things like, "My opponent eats babies. I have never eaten and will never eat a baby. Vote for me." And then when you ask them, "What do you stand for, though?" they generally respond with something like, "I'll tell you what I DON'T stand for: BABY-EATING," which is not exactly helpful or enlightening.



What needs to happen is at the beginning of each campaign season, each candidate releases a list of things that they do and do not stand for. Or, you know what, given the flip-flopping nature of politicians, maybe this should be more of a Venn diagram: "Things I Stand For" on one side, "Things I Don't Stand For" on the other, and "Things I'll Change My Mind About Based On What My Opponent Does or Does Not Stand For" taking up the middle.


The point I'm trying (and failing?) to make here is that I am pathetically uninformed about this particular election, and in my mind voting blindly is worse than not voting at all, as I could end up accidentally voting for a baby-eater or something. And I don't believe in just voting along party lines. (I'm an Independent anyway.)


All of this means that I've spent the day divided between feeling guilty at shirking my patriotic duty and pissed at the political activists who are hounding me about it. As I ran to class (late for my quiz), someone with a sign shouted, "Hey! Are you running TO THE POLLS?!" which frankly was not as funny as the other sign-holders seemed to think it was and made me, in my already cranky mood, want to reply, "It's none of your damn business where I'm going."


So when I had to walk into Collis to get lunch later I had to brace myself and brave the activists who had stationed themselves between me and the one thing (a giant bowl of soup) that would keep me from descending into a hunger-induced streak of madness. I'd almost made it to the door without incident, which was somewhat disappointing since I was actually craving some confrontation (like I said, I'm cranky today). But as I was heading up the stairs, a girl yelled to me, "Hey! Have you voted today?"


Politeness (cowardice?) won out, and I answered, "No, not today."


"But today's the only day when it's going to make a difference!" she said.


"I know," I said, but what I really wanted to do was stop, stare at her for a minute in mock disbelief, and then exclaim, "So THAT'S how voting works?!" before heading off on my not-so-merry way.


I want to make this clear, though: I honestly believe people should vote. I'm not planning on making a habit out of not voting. But I also think it's out of line for people, particularly strangers, to question you as to why. It's a personal thing. Maybe I'm not a US Citizen. Maybe I'm not old enough to vote. Maybe I've already voted but I just don't want to have a conversation about it with some rando on the street. Maybe I'm lazy. The reasons don't matter. The bottom line is that this aspect of politics is a personal decision, and my feelings toward people who badger me about it are about on par with people who ask me if I've accepted Jesus Christ as my personal savior.


So for the rest of the day, I am going to "be a Canadian." God bless Canadians and the fact that they're virtually indistinguishable from Americans unless they're a.) playing us in a game of hockey or b.) apologizing for something ("soor-y!").


And I am not going to feel guilty about not voting. I am going to put on a happy face and attend all my commitments - class, work, rehearsal - despite the fact that I haven't had an hour to myself for days, I desperately need to catch up on schoolwork, and I don't feel well. And in my one hour (literally) of free time, I am going to eat dinner, take some Advil, and lie down. I am making an executive decision to take care of myself first.


And that's my right as an American. So there.