a love letter to how people my age say things

Hey, friends. This book, Never Have I Ever: My Life (So Far) Without a Date by Katie Heaney, is pretty great. It is my memoir, except I didn’t write it, which is weird. And also it is not at all like my life, but it totally is, too.

It’s like this. Katie Heaney is my age (in this book; actually, I think she’s about a year and a half older than I am) and has never dated someone. She, like me, has yet to understand how it is that two humans come to an understanding that they are going to publicly acknowledge that they hang out with each other. And accept the other person, more or less, how they are. So this is her life story, punctuated by crushes and almost-kisses and situations which totally should have made a right turn into boyfriendlandia but didn’t, all of which I am also painfully familiar with. (I should be fair and say that Heaney and I have had very different ways around this noboyfriendness when it comes to sexytimes, and also there was a four-month period in which I did have one, this one time, but it was very much out of our friends all dating each other, so it just made sense, and also, clearly it’s not one of those situations where having done it once changes your pheromones so you can become a member of the club – I am still not a member of the club of People Who Know How To Get Significant Others.) Continue reading


super pop!

Today I’m happy to be part of the blog tour for Super Pop!: Pop Culture Top Ten Lists to Help You Win at Trivia, Survive in the Wild, and Make It Through the Holidays, out now from Zest Books. I had forgotten how much I liked books like this. Sometimes it’s good to have a book around that isn’t a narrative but instead is fun to pick up and put down and pick up again. And obviously by the title of my blog, pop culture is one of my favorite things, because it’s media. And I just took a pop culture class as my final (eep!) class for my MSLIS. So it’s perfect and fitting and fantastic.

I feel like approaching the reading of this book from a librarian’s perspective is the best thing, since that’s probably how I will look at it. It’s like a reference book that’s not boring and that’s up to date, and it’s like reader’s advisory the Hannah way, since it has themes like “Adopt a more outlandish childhood” and “Stop being such a philistine.” Win! If you’re a librarian and you do reader’s advisory, likely you want to purchase this book. Or if you like pop culture, and you do, because you’re a human living in the developed world reading this blog. No excuses.

Top 10 Things About This Book That Are Relevant to You, I Hope (In No Particular Order) Continue reading

i hate libraries, creepy people, and everyone who thinks i’m not human because i’m a woman of color

Today my (white and blonde) friend and I went to a library to do some observations. We’re in library school, preparing to be youth services librarians, you know, so we were sitting in the teen section of said library and critiquing it. We were being pretty quiet and respectful, or at least she was – I kept saying things like “This blows” and “This is the most badly designed space ever.” We were in a back corner of the library, far away from most other humans there except for two teenagers who looked pretty annoyed that we were there and talking shit (sorry, it’s a beautiful building for a house, but the space was deeply uncomfortable and way too quiet). We both believe that teen spaces in libraries are for teenagers and that adults only have business in those areas if they are quickly browsing and then leaving or if they are the librarian. Obviously we are not technically either of those things, but clearly we had a legitimate, non-creepy reason for being there, and if a librarian had come up to us to ask why we were there, we could have explained that we are graduate students studying library science and that also we are pretty young, as far as adults go.

Anyway. We’ve been sitting for awhile, and all of a sudden I hear, “Hi, beautiful.” HORRIBLE, I know, but I looked up the way you do when you hear your name. GROSS. A telling reaction, I think you’ll see. Anyway. It’s this man who is maybe in his 50s and dressed kind of strangely and layered (but in a way distinct from the average homeless library patron – he was clearly the quirky kind of person, not the down on his luck kind of guy), and he comes over and says, “So, you must be either Hispanic or Ethiopian.”