year 1, apartment hunting, and the plague: it's summertime!

So when you're in graduate school, the best part of summer: it means you survived the previous year! So it is official: I have survived Library School Year 1. (And yes, in my pathetic mind that is an oblique Harry Potter reference...)

Speaking of Harry Potter...one of the delights of the past month has been suddenly rediscovering that wonderful long-lost friend Free Time. I just completed a Harry Potter movie marathon. Any suggestions as to what I should watch next?

So I've nailed down my housing for the next year...in August I will be moving literally across the street (but trust me, it's a MAJOR upgrade) to a new apartment with three awesome library students. Let the nerd fest commence. Seriously, though, I'm really excited to live with three other girls who can relate to each others' insanity.

I've also just today begun my new job at the United States Geological Survey's National Wildlife Health Center in Madison. They've hired me to work in their library department, handling cataloging of wildlife journals and articles, responding to wildlife reference questions, and other miscellaneous tasks as needed.

The highlights of my first day:

-Because the National Wildlife Health Center is a federally funded organization that deals with wildlife diseases, it's a closed facility. Meaning I literally had to be buzzed into the building by staff. In my mind, of course, the whole thing felt very CIA and awesome.

-Because they deal with actual wildlife (mostly of the avian and amphibian type) and actual diseases in the facility's labs, I only have access to about 20% of the building. The rest is key-code access limited. I didn't have the courage to ask what would happen if I tried to get into those areas...after some reflection, I decided there are some things you just shouldn't ask on your first day.

-Their main lab is called the "Necropsy Lab," and it is exactly what it sounds like; it's where they do the wildlife autopsies. Unfortunately for me, the lab is viewable from the outside via huge glass walls. And doubly unfortunate: today they happened to be doing autopsies during my tour of the facility. Let's just say I white-knuckled it through, but there was one particular moment when I was morbidly certain I was going to hit the floor. Why is there never a Victorian fainting couch handy when you need one?

-I suddenly know a LOT about the following: white nose bat syndrome, chronic wasting disease in deer, avian flu die-off, and the plague.

-The last thing the HR rep told me after our meeting was "So since we still need to get you finger-printed to issue you an ID badge, until further notice you'll need to be escorted everywhere...and just generally try not to look suspicious, ok?", to which I naturally replied, "Darn it! That was my entire plan, to be creepy and suspicious. NOW what am I going to do?" To which she laughed.

So yep, I think this is going to be pretty awesome...



evil, evil basements

As I generally leave laundry as a weekend chore, about every Sunday night I am forced to dig deep into my reserves of courage and brave my apartment's dreaded basement. And before you prematurely decide that I'm being over-dramatic, let's take a look, shall we?

Stairs off the kitchen that go down to the basement:

The view at the bottom of the stairs (ahead to the left is an empty room with broken floor tiles; possibly it was the room where a previous tenant/psychopath kept his victims chained to the wall)

The laundry area. And yes; I have tripped many, many times into the mini-sinkhole on the floor.

 

And this is the view out the basement window:

So yeah...that's my creepy-as-heck basement/laundry area. I've been here seven months, and it still gives me the creeps every time I go down there after dark. Who knew doing laundry can take as much bravery as Harry Potter going into the forest to meet Voldemort in The Deathly Hallows?

grad·u·ate school. n. def: insanity you voluntarily signed up for.

The good news: inexplicably, in spite of four classes, two-and-a-half jobs (the half being an unpaid practicum internship), living in a shoebox on a non-existent budget with no time for sleep, I love my life. (Well, 99 percent of the time, anyway...)

This semester has been grueling. I'm taking four classes (against the advice of my advisor, who told me three per semester is the maximum they recommend), which should allow me to avoid summer semesters/summer tuition, yet keep me on track to graduate next May. The result: I am never without a textbook in my face (which has on occasion made crossing streets honk-filled adventures) or giant bags under my eyes. Yet I'm constantly reminded that I'm studying what I love, living in a great city, and having more (mis)adventures than I could've hoped for.

Life is good.

more about the new job

So this is the entrance to the library. One must persevere through kind of a maze in the basement of the building to reach this destination, which makes our patrons the few and the determined.

These are some pics of the rolling shelves...

And this is our label-maker I was introduced to yesterday: (what is UP with all these Star Trek themed supplies, anyway? So curious as to what company they buy from...)

Because the audio library is located in the basement, the main circulation department upstairs utilizes a dumb waiter to return music library materials back down to us, which of course as a dork I find completely cool:

Still settling into the new job, but I'm learning a lot, and I really love the quiet atmosphere. And the facilities, in all their musty-smelling old-ness, have a definite charm.

new job hilariousness

So I was recently hired to work 10 hrs a week at UW-Madison's audio library. The main library building is really big and beautiful, with tall ceilings and spacious study areas. That's not where I am. The Mills Music Library is its own separate library collection, located in the basement of the building.

The first time I walked down there to hand in my resume, the library reminded me of Fox Mulder's office from The X-Files. Obviously the library is much bigger than his office, but it definitely gave me the impression that the Music Library is the main library's embarrassing cousin that lives in the basement and is mostly ignored. Of course I fell in love with it right away.

Highlights of yesterday, my first day of work at the library:

Behind the audio checkout desk, available only to staff, is a closed "cage" where they store music related cds, dvds and videocassettes. This area is what they call "closed stack;" patrons can't browse, but they can search the catalog and tell us what they'd like, and we go back into the cage, look through the shelves and grab it for them. These shelves, however, are not your regular book shelves. They are on tracks, and they have big wheels on the sides so you can get between them. The first time I walked back and slipped between two of the shelves, I got this unshakeable feeling that I was about to be crushed accordion style, much like Han Solo in the trash compactor from Star Wars: A New Hope. This is going to take some getting used to.

So in the midst of walking me around the library, one of my coworkers introduced me to the audio library's public services librarian. We walk up to him, and she says, "Lindsay, this is ____" He's a white guy, somewhat preppy-looking, in his early-mid thirties. He turns to me, I smile, and just as I start to put my hand out, he bows. And not the Japanese, head-waist bow. Oh no; he thrusts back his right leg, puts out his arms and gives me a full-on Victorian-era bow. I freeze, looking around in panic. Am I supposed to laugh? Does he expect me to curtsy? (Without falling over? Because I actually doubt I could do that...) My other coworker who is introducing us makes no reaction, and the moment passes, but five minutes later I'm still looking around, waiting for either the hidden cameras to appear, or my coworkers to start laughing and enjoy the prank on the new girl. Nope. Pretty sure this guy is just that eccentric. That night I nearly died laughing describing this moment to my sister. It must be my inner weird that gets such a kick out of the strange ones...

At one point one of my coworkers tells me, "I'm going to show you how to scan the items that patrons browse, since we keep track of those statistics. Let's grab the phaser."
HUH?
My face reflects the above, and she laughs. "Oh; yeah, you'll understand when you see it. It looks exactly like the phasers from Star Trek: The Next Generation." And folks, it really does.

So I think this job's gonna be pretty interesting...

:D

snapshots of Blizzard Draco and holiday break

Blizzard Draco crept in under the cover of night December 19th, 2012, and in 24 hours dumped a total of 15 inches on Madison:

By Thursday morning, Governor Walker had closed all city buildings. Day off for me! As public transpo wasn't running, and none of the streets got effectively plowed in the first 24 hours, my camera and I trekked all over Downtown on foot, taking pics of the city. It was a blast.

Saturday morning, December 22, I managed to dig my car out from under a mountain of plowed snow, and (very slowly) made my exodus.

One bit of excitement: M (my car, named after the immutable Bond character) desperately needed a fill-up. So the moment I got out of Downtown Madison, I stopped at a gas station. And discovered their satellite was down, and so was their ability to take credit cards. Three gas stations later (and with poor M coughing up fumes) we FINALLY found one that was able to take credit. Let me tell you what: as far as I'm concerned, Blizzard + no satellite = Armageddon.

Then for the REAL fun: Holiday Break in Holt, MI (AKA mad fun with family & friends)

We FINALLY saw The Hobbit!

Pixar's The Incredibles movie night with David and Kaitlin and the kids. Pretty sure a bomb could've gone off, and Benjamin wouldn't have moved an inch.

This little dude so contentedly nestled in the snow is Orville. Heather bought him last summer when she found me making friends with him at the store. I took him back with me to Madison, as he will be a traveling knome for the next year. He and I are looking forward to having many adventures together in Mad-town.

Yep, we really did make an upside-down snowman. And it was boss. (And quite the neighborhood sideshow.)

Yep, we are those nerds, the kind that make their own board games. Try not to be terrified of our awesomeness.

Highlights of break: 

• Creating The Princess Bride Monopoly together
• Playing Wheel of Fortune
• Eating Mom's Christmas cookies like they were going out of style (which they NEVER will)
• Seeing old friends
• Throwing clothes over fitting room walls at resale shops
• Getting Benjamin hugs
• Heather's expression when I showed her my poopy cow keychain
• Late-night talks with Megs
• Making leg-warmers (I know, right? Me, enjoying SEWING. The mind rebels)
• Gina's laugh as we watched Boy Meets World 
• Wrestling Shelby in the snow
• Sledding in precarious 10-person trains down Dead Mans Hill
• The dozens of situations I labeled Christmas miracles (everything from our white Christmas to green traffic lights)

Quote of the week: Megan (just after showering): "I'm gonna grab some cookies from the garage freezer." Me: "Okay." ::two minutes later:: Megan: "Could you give me a clue where to look? It's cold out here, and my hair is starting to freeze."

one of those days

So last week I had one of those days:

-I overslept
-literally had to run to class
-was one minute late, so I had to do the walk of shame to the front of the class to get the one empty seat
-forgot my water bottle at my apartment, so I got dehydrated at work
-forgot to return my library books before work, so I had to walk home during my break instead of eating lunch
-forgot my umbrella, and because it started pouring rain JUST as I left, I had to run from building overhang to building overhang on the way home from work

And the kicker: on the way home I literally stepped in dog poo that someone left in the middle of the road.

?!?!

The good news: I got home that night, fell into bed, and went to sleep with the comforting knowledge that the next day could not POSSIBLY be worse than the day I just completed. And I was right.

 

and just when over-confidence threatens:

At work today, as I'm helping a woman in her early thirties:

Customer: "Hey, do you remember a few years ago when the museum used to sell the old farmer tractor t-shirts?" Me: "You'd have to ask one of my coworkers. I've actually only worked here a month." Customer, surprised: "REALLY? Wow. You seem like a natural. I thought you've been doing this for years." Me: ::supremely satisfied:: "Why THANK you! It's so nice to hear that I'm -" Catherine (my coworker): "LINDSAY!! What on EARTH did you do to this register screen?! I've never even SEEN this error message before!!" ::Awkward pause:: Customer: "Uh, never-mind..." ::we bust out laughing::

a week of hilariousness in a nutshell

-Last Tuesday at work: in the middle of the afternoon, I walk by the store's jewelry display, and notice that one of the jewelry boxes is facing the wrong way. Sure enough: it's empty. I notify my manager, and she and I narrow down the general time it must've been shoplifted. She walks me over to the surveillance camera hub, and we start watching the morning activity in the store. Within ten minutes, six other museum employees are crowded around the screens, laughing hysterically as Heather takes turns speeding up and slowing down the museum store tapes, thereby making my recorded self look like Captain Jack Sparrow.

-An hour later: I'm being questioned by a Capitol Square cop, trying to give her information about the woman we caught on camera stealing the jewelry. By the time she leaves, I'm shaking like a leaf, and my manager finally asks me, "What's wrong with you; why are you freaking out? YOU didn't do anything wrong." To which I replied, "Did you HEAR that cop?! I felt like I was being questioned by The Closer!! I nearly made up a crime in my head, just so I could confess to something!"

-Last Wednesday I'm walking over E. Johnson and Butler. Without warning I suddenly hear a succession of loud pops, and literally stop in my tracks in the middle of the intersection. A glimpse into my mind at that exact moment: 'Holy Mother of WALES!! Is someone shooting? Is it the capitol lawn? Should I call the cops? Am I going to DIE?! Did I leave my underwear in the middle of my bedroom floor?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?'
And then, in the middle of my stream-of-consciousness panic attack, I hear the sound again, and subsequently my eye catches on something floating through the air. It's a long ream of bubble wrap. Yes, the popping sound was cars running over the bubble wrap. And yes, running over bubble wrap with my car is most definitely now on my bucket list.

-Last Friday at work: a local Wisconsin public middle school brought in their kids for a tour of the museum. I'm watching as four of the boys walk in ahead of their group, carrying the giant lunch coolers. I make a passing comment to the 10-year-old boys about their impressive muscles, and one of the boys turns to me, levels me with a scornful look and says, "Well, yeah, WE'RE strong. We're GUYS. WAY stronger than YOU." Next thing I know, I'm challenging a 10-year-old to an arm wrestling competition, whilst my male colleagues verbally egg me on. The contest never actually occurred, but the kid and I walked away with mutual respect for each others' smack talk abilities.

-Later that same day: I'm finishing up a change order for the bank, when suddenly two cop cars, sirens blaring, drive up the sidewalk and park outside the museum entrance. Two cops bust through the doors, hands on their holsters, yelling, "WHAT'S THE EMERGENCY?" Turns out someone at the museum's visitor services rep. desk accidentally hit one of the panic buttons. Suffice it to say, my manager ended up having to pat me on the back, telling me to take deep breaths. Yeah...unfortunately, I'm that token person in the crowd whose first instinct in an emergency is to panic.  ::facepalm::  Oh well, so I'll never be an Avenger. Or a cop. Or a doctor. Or a lifeguard. Or...well, let's just say I've probably picked the correct career for me...

ridiculist for the day

It was sunny and 87 degrees yesterday, here in beautiful Madison, Wisconsin. Today: 56, overcast, windy, rainy: FREEZING. The forecast for tomorrow: 77 and sunny. (You Michiganders get why this bipolar weather makes me homesick...)

Speaking of Michigan: found out today that one of my coworkers grew up in Saginaw. We both nearly fell off our chairs when we realized we know some of the same people/places from back home...

So a group of men (old/70s to young/20s) walked into the museum store this afternoon, looking pleasantly confused. I walked over to greet/help them - (WAIT; did I mention one of the younger guys had INCREDIBLY beautiful eyes? And a great smile? And more than slightly resembled Zachary Levi? Because that NEEDS to be mentioned...) ::dreamy sigh::

So ANYWAYS, it turns out the company they work for split them up into groups of six and sent them out on a scavenger hunt. So this is why I ended up wandering around on the museum's third floor, helping them find a) a giant book in our immigrant exhibit, and b) our life-size replica of a cow. (Her name is Buttercup, FYI).

An hour later: I'm dangling from the fifth step of a ladder, leaning over two displays of glass beer mugs, trying to hang a marionette puppet (made in the likeness of Gaylord Anton Nelson) from the ceiling. And for those of you who don't know this about me: I'm the type of person who is thrilled to the bone to drop 350 feet on a roller coaster, but panics if I have to lean even slightly over a one-story balcony. So there I am, trying to hook a creepy-as-heck puppet onto the ceiling, with two coworkers taking turns holding the ladder and panicking over the possibility of me falling into a giant display of glassware.

Suffice it to say: my day was ridiculous.

the older ones

So I met a couple today at work. They are retired. They volunteer part-time at the museum for fun. They are HILARIOUS. A snippet of a conversation I overheard:

"Paul, I'm going to buy two of these stuffed animal fish from the gift shop. Okay?" "
"WHY, Dawn?"
"Well look at them: they're just wonderful. And one's for me and one's for you."
"But I don't want one."
"Too bad! One is going in your car, and one is going in mine."
"But I HATE stuff that just sits around."
"Oh shush. They're CUTE."
"The only thing I keep around because it's cute is you."
"Well then your standards are too low."
"No, they're too high. That thing's not cute enough. Put mine back."
"You old CRANK!"
"I love you too."

::grin::

So I answered the store phone just before close today; an older woman (I'm guessing early seventies) was trying to find a number for the historical society in northwest Wisconsin. She eventually gave up and called us for help. She was very nice, but very frustrated: "I hope you can help me, honey! I searched the Internet using The Google, but all of the phone numbers I found were disconnected. And then a window with four naked men popped up on my screen! Honey, I don't WANT to look at the naked men on the Internet! I JUST WANT A PHONE NUMBER! It's just scandalous that even folks like myself can't get away from the nakedness. I tell you what: the 'net is going to be the ruination of us all."

At this point I'm covering the bottom half of the phone, laughing hysterically, and Evan (the VSR at the admissions desk) is staring at me, trying to decide if I'm laughing or having a seizure...

Here's to the older ones: you make my day.

victory is MINE...

For all you fellow West Wing fans: Friday afternoon at work I was able to legitimately bust out with one of my favorite quotes: "Victory is mine...I drink from the keg of GLORY." I'd just taken my first phone order ever, and found out I did it correctly from beginning to end. ::fistpump::. Unfortunately, none of my co-workers understood why I was telling them to bring me the finest muffins and bagels in all the land. I need to find me some kindred spirits around here...

The last few days have been quite the mixed bag, full of awfulness and awesomeness. I've been hit on by a creepy coworker and simultaneously rescued by an awesome one, received a parking ticket then given some excellent advice about how to avoid them permanently, taken a disappointingly abbreviated tour of the capitol yet had the pleasure of creeping on two weddings held in the Assembly Chamber. And this morning I listened to a sermon I hated, yet was treated extremely kindly by total strangers.

But the pinnacle of this mixed bag weekend: this afternoon I got pulled over for running a light while driving home from the grocery store. So there's the awful. The awesome: the cop looked at my info, realized I've only been here two weeks, believed me when I admitted I wasn't paying attention because I'd gotten a little turned around, and let me off with a warning. She also looked at my home address and took it upon herself to give me some safety tips; apparently there's been a lot of break-ins along my street over the past couple weeks.

And then the random hilarious: she looked at me funny when I told her I'd moved here from Michigan. She then handed me the printout of my info; turns out the DMV made a mistake and put in that I'd moved here from Minnesota. "Probably just a typo," she said, "But you probably want to give them a call and get that fixed. I'm looking at you and I'm pretty sure you're not trying to "Bourne" and switch identities or something, but it doesn't look great to have that mistake on your information."

?!?!?!

Oh yes, she DID use "Bourne" as a verb. AND she gave me directions on the quickest route home.

So yep, the cops around here are REALLY cool. :D

Bob the Builder...I am not.

So turns out there's 5 things you should know before buying/assembling an 89 dollar bed stand from Walmart:

1. A "bed stand" sounds a LOT lighter than it actually is. In reality, it's like 90 pounds of dead weight in a giant rectangular box that's VERY difficult to move. Especially if you have to move it by yourself. Through two sets of apartment doors that're INCREDIBLY heavy. (You know, 'cause when the doors are really heavy, it adds to the safety features of the apartment. I mean, what self-respecting thief feels like opening TWO sets of heavy doors? By the second, they'd be like, "Man! This is too much work. I'm just gonna give this up, go home, make myself a healthy meal, and comb through the yellow pages for a respectable job.")

2. When the instructions say "minimal assembly required" AND under "necessary tools" lists "two people" and three hardware tools, you know you're in trouble.

3. Sometimes when the guys who are preparing the bed stand kit drill vital holes in the boards, they get tired or bored halfway through. So they stop. Halfway through. Which requires you to walk 2 miles to a hardware store to buy a really big nail so you can hammer the holes the rest of the way through.

4. When you go to a hardware store, spend 8 cents and buy one nail, the guy at the checkout is going to treat you like an idiot. This might be true if you're male or female, but I'm guessing the odds are greater if you're a female.

5. One side of the boards will be shiny and finished, and that's the side that's supposed to be showing when you're done assembling. However, if you can't figure out how to make the pretty sides face out, it's okay. The bed stand will still work. It just...won't look QUITE like the picture. But hey, we're not spending 89 dollars on a bed stand to look classy, right?

So yep, my bed stand works great.
:D

the usefulness of a stay-at-home umbrella

A Tale of Weather Woe

So I walked to class late yesterday afternoon under the cover of blue skies, whistling into the humid air.

Two-and-a-half hours later: I walk out of the building and straight into a weather advisory storm. No kidding: lightning, thunder, heavy rain, and winds so strong there's outdoor restaurant chairs flying toward me down State Street. And let's remember: I've not been too fond of storms since traveling through Joplin Missouri this past summer, experiencing the aftermath of their very BIG weather event of 2011.

But what can a girl do, when she's walked the 1.5 miles to campus for her very first class of the semester, with nothing but an empty notebook and (apparently) misguided optimism about the weather?

So there I am, running down State Street, dodging fallen branches, flying debris, and the occasional dead bird on the sidewalk, shoes squishing with every step, when suddenly the street lamps go out. I hear loud exclamations from fellow pedestrians, and we all note with relief that the traffic lights are still working. I decide to ditch my usual route (which takes me down several not-so-busy and DEFINITELY not as safe roads) and run straight for the capitol. As I cross over one of the busier intersections, the air is suddenly filled with hoots and yells. There's a group of guys running straight through the street and the storm, wearing nothing but boxers and U.S flags around their necks. Thank you, rush week, for keeping us classy.

I hit capitol square and hear sirens going down E. Johnson. And at that exact moment I happen to look to my right; there's a group of people huddled on the steps of the Wisconsin Department of Justice building. This group is made up of American Apparel-wearing students, people in business suits, vagrants hugging their packs, tourists in sandals and fanny packs; you name it, they're there, trying to find shelter under the awning of this architecturally beautiful building. As I run by I take a mental snapshot, dodging puddles, wobbly bikers, and frantic motorists trying to exit the capitol loop.

And all the sudden the complete ridiculousness of the entire situation hits me. I'm running through the streets in the middle of a lightning/rain/wind storm, and all I can think about is my stupid umbrella sitting on the bottom of my bedroom closet. The umbrella that would've only made me an easier object for the wind to catch and blow into the side of a building.

I stop in my tracks. And laugh. Out loud. In the pitch black, in the middle of the street.

My hair is dripping in my face, my white socks are now black, and I'm shivering with the cold.

And I'm having the time of my life.

there and back again: getting lost Hobbit style

So turns out the city looks COMPLETELY different after dark...who'd a thunk? Last Thursday night I attempted to drive out of the city to spend the long weekend with family in Rockford, Illinois. Ended up driving in this never-ending circular loop for a good 10 minutes before I raised the white flag. Found myself at a gas station with a map in my hand, trying to get directions from a lovely Indian man whose adorable accent - and my complete lack of language skills - created a bit of a barrier. Turns out this guy knew what he was talking about; I found US-14 in no time after following his directions. My last image of him: his earnest face pressed against the gas station window, willing me on to the correct road. Thank you, random angel of mercy, for taking pity on a directionally challenged small-town kid.

And on this subject of getting lost/being directionally challenged: I'm thinking about wearing a sign around my neck that says "Don't bother: I don't know where I am right now, much less where you're trying to go." For some reason, I am one of those unfortunate people who never really knows where they are or where they're trying to go, but apparently LOOKS like they do. I swear, every other person on the street asks me for directions. It's just not a good idea, people. Don't do it. Even if I'm familiar with where you're trying to go, I'll still manage to get you lost. It's like my superpower. VERY unhelpful power, FYI.

Gearing up to assemble my bedstand this afternoon. Probably going to involve much drama, because in these tools/assembly/reading directions situations I'm much like Vanna White from Wheel of Fortune: I can pose very prettily and make the smarter people look REALLY good. But that's about it.

Well, we'll see what happens...

numbers, numbers, numbers...

5 - The number of times I walked through Capitol Square today.

5.5% - The sales tax rate in Dane County. Not to be confused with other counties in Wisconsin, where the sales tax rate is 5%. Way to make it easy and non-confusing for us gift shop clerks, people.

3 - The number of times I nearly became a bloody smear on the road today, courtesy of drivers and bikers around here who get a bit, umm, CREATIVE in the ways they interpret traffic signage.

2 - The number of times I went back and forth about what to wear in this 95 degree heat.

4 - The number of people who busted out singing with me in Subway this afternoon when Gotye's "Somebody That I Used To Know" started playing on the radio.

87 - How many times throughout the day I thought about this weekend, and getting together with my family in Illinois.

awe·some·ness: def. 1. being paid to have fun

So my day today WAS pretty great:

This morning I show up at the museum to begin my training. I walk in the door, and my new manager shoves a map of the museum in my hand, gestures to the elevators and says, "I want you to spend the next two-ish hours touring the four floors of the museum. Start at the top and work your way down. Have fun, and come find me when you're finished."

:D

Don't mind if I do.

Did I enjoy myself? Why yes, I did. My favorite floor, you ask?

Floor #3: The History of Wisconsin.

-The History of Wisconsin: Daily Living section has a replicated clothes iron from the 1940s that you can hold. Can I just say this: the women of the 40s must've had muscles like POPEYE after using that insanely heavy, ridiculous thing all day. In their place, I would've chucked it out the window and said, "Hubby, kids, your clothes are going to be wrinkled. Get over it." Ladies of the 40s, you rock.

-Nearby in a different section they have a life-size touch/sit/play-inside-of-me tractor, complete with all the gears and knobs. Did I press every knob and pull every gear? Why of COURSE I did, silly.
 
So after spending one-and-a-half hours playing, I finally did finish and return to the main floor, where I learned from my supervisor the ins and outs of the gift shop, supply areas and display cases, memorizing relevant facts and important security tips. For instance:

-If I were to accidentally hit any one of the three conveniently located panic buttons behind the gift shop counter, within 60 seconds four Capitol Square law enforcement officers would burst through the doors with guns drawn. Coincidentally, these men who guard Madison's Capitol Building and its surrounding businesses do not appreciate false alarms. AT ALL.

 -Also: the giant window display on the front of the building is an entirely separate section of the building, accessed by a heavy, ancient door on the side of the building. The door happens to be located in a wind tunnel created by the Capitol Square. So if, say, I were to go in to replace the display, didn't happen to prop the door open and it were to shut while I'm inside, it'd be impossible to open from the inside of the display. I would then (apparently) be forced to frantically mime and gesticulate to passersby on the street, until one of them notices me, interprets my crude communication, takes pity, spends their valuable time going inside the museum and tells a staffer that there's a crazy person stuck inside the front display window.

Good to know.

(Read this article if you're curious to discover why Madison's city council voted in 2009 to designate the lawn flamingo as Madison's official bird.)

quiz: what's NOT in a Walgreens?

So about today...

The strange:

-The mattress I ordered awhile back arrived tonight via FedEx...turns out mattresses bought from Walmart and shipped via FedEx are actually BORN. No really; they're vacuum-sealed in this cylindrical shape in a tall rectangular box. When you open the box and break the seal, suddenly the springs begin to pop and stretch, and the mattress begins to grow, gaining mass, until suddenly it pops out of the plastic wrap entirely. Honestly; I felt like I was watching an animal special on the Discovery Channel...

The funny:

-At the beginning of my grad program orientation this afternoon, they split us up into groups of five. So I'm sitting there with four of my peers (we're all between the ages of 22-26) chatting, and our host interrupts to tell us that each group needs to choose a spokesperson. So one of the girls at my table suddenly yells, "NOSE GOES!" and just like that, we all revert back to middle school. Ah, the comfort of the familiar...

-Walked to Walgreens tonight looking for shower cleaning products and WD-40. Turns out they don't carry WD-40. So as I'm buying, I ask the guy at the register if he can think of any product that might substitute for WD-40. He starts giving me suggestions, and as we're talking, his bored co-worker wanders over and inserts himself into our conversation. And then suddenly they're arguing about cleaning supplies, the ingredients in them, and whether or not any of the things I'm buying could be substituted for WD-40. I have to remind the original guy to give me my receipt, and as I'm walking out, they're still arguing. So yeah...I think I broke Walgreens tonight...

city life: people on the street

This afternoon: I'm walking home to my new apartment and I find I have a special spring in my step. The sun's shining, I just completed #12 on my to-do list for the day, and I'm feeling good.

And suddenly I look around and realize I'm walking next to the capitol building in the middle of the city, bustling with pedestrians on bikes and on foot, and I'm feeling REALLY good. I start thinking to myself: 'I LOVE street people! I love being a person on the street! All this co-mingling of the masses, the nods and smiles we all share as we walk by, the way we all share this city and the space so well...' And just as I reach the height of this good-feelingness toward "the people on the street" I turn a corner and a tough-looking woman blows a mouthful of cigarette smoke in my face. And suddenly I'm coughing and wheezing, and walking away QUITE fast just in case she thinks I'm being melodramatic and decides to pound on my smart aleck behind...

:D

But cigarette smoke aside, the city is beautiful. I'm able to walk nearly everywhere I need to go, and despite the city feel of the area, I'm finding the people here are generally kind, solid Midwesterners who look out for each other.

And dude, my apartment is a stone's throw from the capitol. No kidding; I can see the top from one of my windows.