To-whit, To-woo: The Donsie Lass Blogs

A Penny Dreadful

Maybe This Was Just Some Big Misunderstanding October 16, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — donsie @ 21:25 pm
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I still haven’t heard back from my department’s graduate admissions head.  She will not respond to my emails.  This leaves me with the small but sustaining hope that this was all just a big mistake and so I still may have the opportunity to take up my previous plan of living as a wandering hermit among the sheep.  I have purchased a small volume in preparation.  

 

Good for the apocalypse and/or an unexpected PhD.

Good for the apocalypse and/or an unexpected PhD.

 

 

 

Still, from its title the book may well prove useful even if I do trade the moors for research in the underground stacks of the oh-so-alluringly titled “Rarely Used” section. At least that way I can keep up my indie street cred by reading books nobody else has ever bothered cracking.

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Mission Totally Mundane: A Library Security Breach October 15, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — donsie @ 22:19 pm
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Turnstile be damned!

Turnstile be damned!

 

Tonight I decided that the best way to spend my time treading water, as it were, while I wait for her child’s illness to subside and thus stop barring my departmental head of post-graduate admissions from beginning to register me was to get out some library books and pretend to begin conducting research.  I was being dragged there anyway to watch a mad Englishman hunt for texts relating to the profession of librarianship and so I decided I might as well come home with a few at least peripherally topical texts.  The problem was that when we arrived, while his External Borrower card allowed non-staffed hours access, I possess only my expired ID from my MA because of the gap between the conclusion of that degree and the delayed start of this PhD.  I was stuck at the turnstile without a friendly but incomprehensibly broad-speaking Yorkshireman porter to aid my entry and so, despite a web of CCTV coverage that would surely put MI6 to shame, I got on my knees and slid under the metal bars.  I am pleased to relate, Dear Reader, that my trench coat suffered no ill effects but I now live in fear that I will be hunted like the criminal I am by those very same porters, if they ever get the England score they so desperately sought.  As to what sport this referred I cannot say.  I was lucky enough, however, to experience the special and, I can only assume, prophetic thrill of having the lights in the stacks turned off on me while I searched among them.  I continued to poke around in the dark until an above-mentioned porter discovered me, shook his head, and pointed me toward the light switch.  I left it dark.  Expect more of the same in the coming months.