Happy Birthday Kate. Kate has managed to be the only member of my nuclear family without a web page. She is also the youngest. Coincidence?

Please remember, eager holiday freakos, that Easter is only really a holiday for those who believe in Jesus, the resurrection, bad grammar ["he is risen"??] and so forth. According to recent data, this is maybe 50% of the US. Kindly remember this when I am trying to buy my airline tickets from you and you insist on wishing me a Happy Easter. It's like saying Happy Superbowl, it quickly becomes inane and meaningless out of context.

But I did buy airline tickets, to go visit Greg and help him pack and scoot out before his cable modem turns off and I have to get back to work. The next big plan is to go to Vermont in mid-may, meeting Greg and the caretaker there and embark on a short East Coast road trip before settling in for the summer. Come August, who knows? Tomorrow, I may manage to get to the Center for Wooden Boats early enough to actually get in on the free boat ride they do every Sunday. Last week I missed it by at least ten minutes, maybe 30. If I blow it again though, there's always the open-to-the-public library [pictured] to hang out in with a view of Lake Union and all the free coffee you can drink. Know any other good microlibraries in Seattle? Let me know.

Note to society at large: it may make me an elitist snob, but I do not have a TV nor did I seek one out this past weekend. I encourage you to donate five dollars to Oxfam every time you utter the words "Gwynneth's dress" Thank you.

Learned something today, maybe a few things. Got up early for another in a series of endless dental appointments. This time I thought I was going in for a cleaning and wound up actually being there for a filling. Had I known about the filling -- being the big sissy that I am -- I would have fretted all night and not enjoyed anything I did after maybe 4 pm yesterday. As it was, I had a great time winning and at least placing at bar trivia and only felt bad when I was in the chair saying "A what? I thought I was here for a cleaning?" It's rare that I understand what people mean when they say there are things they'd rather not know about. However, I was already strapped in with the mouth-obscuring dental dam by the time I remembered that I was trying not to put any more mercury/silver in my mouth. Too late, watch my mind deteriorate.

Then off to the post office. I went to mail a package. I have been trying to learn the precise combination of phrases that will actually let the post office folks tell me the lowest possible price for sending my box without trying to upsell me to priority mail, sell me any stamps, or tell me I can use my credit card if I want to. I pretty much nailed it today "I want to know the lowest price for mailing this and I don't care how long it takes." The post office guy was visibly agitated when I said I didn't want priority mail, even if it was only a dime more. I said I had stuff in mind for that dime. I then asked him why they had two price points so close together, if it made them do the extra work of saying "You know, for only a dime more...." like some used car salesman. He told me that the Post Office is trying hard to send more and more stuff -- epsecially small stuff -- via air mail when at all possible. Using fewer trucks and less fuel and becoming a lean mean capitalist machine [those are my words, natch]. However, he added, the post office didn't want to tell anyone what to do, so while they would strongly encourage everyone never to use parcel post for small packages again, they are powerless to mandate you doing so.

I got my boots resoled again. It was expensive, but I realized I haven't bought a pair of new shoes in over a decade. Are there any American-made sneakers anymore? I need a pair. A lot going on this week. For those of you who didn't see the slightly buried link from Saturday, here's some large image files of the article in Library Journal that I was in:

• the article itself
• my face on the section cover
• my face on the supplement cover

When Todd and I headed to the library to take a few pictures, who knew it would be getting this much exposure? I've actually known the woman who wrote the article -- Marylaine Block -- for some time and I thought she did a pretty good job of explaining what I'm all about. It's unnerving to be pegged so accurately; of course I like to think I'm inscrutable.

Meanwhile I'm reading this book called The Assertive Librarian. It was written in the early eighties, has no fun illustrations to scan, and generally has convinced me that I straddle the line between assertive [where you stick up for yourself but do not infringe on the rights or beliefs of others] and aggressive [like the other only you tend towards trampling over the poor other people]. I'm not sure if this personality led me to my political beliefs or if the political beliefs delivered me to this personality. Reading the book just made me more and more grateful to not be working in a library or other excessive hierarchy, even though I pine for the reference desk some days.

Tonight Chris comes over and we try, for the third time for me, to get these blasted i-opener appliances up and running with some variant of Linux. The task involves some sort of BIOS flash, booting from a teeny Linux disk image, and some mojo hand. Anyone ever successfuly done this?

Okay, the pictures from my trip -- all fifty of them -- are finally up with some sort of a narrative. Missing due to low batteries are any shots from the wrestling match which was probably the most photogenic of any of threse events, any shots of my friends except one of Pete, looking blurry, and my trip to Berkeley. I especially think you would have enjoyed watching me cup up boxes full of icicle radishes but it was not to be. Then on Saint Patrick's Day, a holiday I normally avoid, I saw Saint Bushmills Choir, self-proclaimed "drunken Irish band from Capitol Hill" play at Graceland. They had a bagpipe band opening for them which was really awe inspiring in that tiny space. If I ever get married again, I want the choir to play at my wedding. It's weird going to a show in Seattle after all the bars and clubs in San Francisco where smoking is completely outlawed. It seemed like a poisoned basement, more than usual.

Our trivia master from the Monday night trivia session is moving to NYC next month so next week is his last week. They may be getting someone else, but it won't be the same. This means 1) anyone who wanted to join me at bar trivia should come next week and 2) if there are other good bar trivia nights in Seattle someone should let me know. This week we won $28 and a lot of little plastic butterflies and animals.

I yelled at a Girl Scout today. I had just gotten back from SFO and was making my way home on the bus, a process that takes about 90 minutes. At one point I transferred to another bus and had to stand at a stop for about 15 minutes. This is where the trouble began. First off, it was snowing. Secondly, there were a whole gaggle of chirpy Girl Scouts hawking cookies right at the bus stop. They would jump up and down and holler at people and try to get them to buy tons of bad-for-you expensive goodies in the name of some sort of girl-loving philanthropy. I don't think this approach helps anyone. Let me add that I quit Girl Scouts in the third grade when it became clear that I would have to sell overpriced junk food to strangers or be ostracized by my peers. Let me also add that I suspect this was my first introduction to my own anti-capitalist philosophies. I mean, we were supposed to sell cookies that we did not bake for an unknown amount of profits [the rest of the money going back to the mothership, I presume] and the money we did "earn" would be spent on who-knows-what, certainly not getting to shoot guns which is what the cool Boy Scouts got to do. At the bus stop, people would actually apologize as these twelve year olds got in their way "No, I already have some, sorry" As if it's everyone's patriotic duty to introduce girls to the joys of a pseudo-free market economy. They were even squeaking "we only have to sell two more!" as if their Girl Scout mom, also in attendance, was peddling their freezing asses to make some fictional quota. Anyhow, they came up to me twice, the first time I told them I would prefer to be left alone, the second time I believe I started my reply with "I'm not playing with you, step off...."

But I did manage to get home. Here is the bullet pointed list to the rest of my week. Photos coming soon.

• Tuesday Bloodhag show kicked ass, highlighted by my name being on the guestlist. We had some extra time to kill before the show so Pete and I checked out the view from both Coit Tower and Twin Peaks in under two hours, plus Lombard Street
• Wednesday was New Friends day as I took in Point Reyes with a long-time correspondent. In the evening I hit art night at the Exploratorium with Dennis and friend
• Thursday was a blur of welcoming Rebecca back, having a burrito with her and Matt in the Mission, Chinese food in a tiny upstairs restaurant and then off to Incredibly Strange Wrestling which was, as advertised, strange
• Friday I went and cooked for Food Not Bombs and then ate my final burrito with Derek and Heather and Pete.

That's it. One burrito per day. Three books read [almost]. Sights seen, and libraries visited. It was a good trip; I'm already planning my next one. While I was away, I started getting famous, again.