It might seem like I'm back, but I'm not.

There's still an emptiness in my spirit, in my soul.

Yesterday, a pretty young woman asked for a book on pregnancy, and with my characteristic feigned enthusiasm, I swatted the keyboard to kill the usual amount of time before walking her to the six-eighteens.

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(ok. you're right. that was gross. so I deleted it.)
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ok, I'm a pansy for deleting it. i shouldn't let readers control my writing (based on the article here that i haven't finished reading) -- so here is the delete text, but in white, so you need to drag over it to see it.
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And when I handed her one of those, your pregancy, minute-by-minute books, I casually mentioned that we have a "don't let scabies eat your babies" book. "Hmm, where is that? Did you know that your unborn little slacker in there can get scabies. It's because I didn't wash my hands. And the temperature inside you is the perfect incubator for the little buggers."And the look of horror on her face when she dug into her purse to find the bottle antibacterial schmootz, reminded me how much my Colgate-Palmolive and Johnson & Johnson stocks have appreciated this year and how that will help my retirement. And maybe her little brat can absorb that fear right through her bloodstream and clean his hands 100 times a day after he's been spawned. Cha-ching! Man, those margaritas, rocks, no salt, aren't just going to buy themselves.

Normally I would smile and feel my spirit soar like the great eagle. But it only hopped like the tiny frog. I don't know what's wrong, but I need help.

So help me. Help my tiny frog to become a great eagle, again.

The Good News

I'm not back, yet. I suppose for some of you, that's good news. You can delete my feed from your browser or whatever goofy thing you use to get here because I stopped writing this blog. Yeah, it was in all the papers. But that's not what I'm talking about.

Do you ever read the news over there on the left? Well, you should. I know you go to LISNews and you read the blogs, but you should read some of the general news stories that show up on a basic search for library news.
There's a lot of cool stuff going on out there, not hugely important stuff, but good stuff nonetheless. There are stories about retiring librarians looking back at long fulfilling careers; there are stories about library programs, and new partnerships and literacy initiatives and book displays. This is good news. And there's lots of it out there. You should read it because it's good to be a librarian. It's effing brilliant.

So, no joke today. I told you, I'm not back. What? You think I'm here to entertain you? Did you just say, "Dance, you effing monkey, dance"?

I'm starting to feel like Robin Williams. He has to be the saddest guy in the world. He keeps trying to be a serious actor, but people won't let him stop being funny. I could see him on Leno, at the most serious moment in his life; he walks out on the stage carrying a sword as if it's an offering. And Jay says, "So what ya been up to, Robin?"
And Robin says, "I just came back from Heaven where I had an audience with God. And He told me that I had been chosen to be His judgement and His vengeance here on Earth." And the entire audience uncomfortably and simultaneously shifts its weight.
Jay senses his audience's unease and tries to prod a joke from Robin. "What about that scandal with the President?"
Robin raises the sword which bursts into pure, white fire. "I'm serious," he pleads. "Hear me. I come from the Lord, your God, to punish the wicked and purify the guilty. With His sword and His flame, His judgement will be final."

Jay laughs nervously. The feeling of betrayal from the audience is palpable.

Robin senses it, and has a complete change of heart. "About God. Heaven is so high, that was the only way I could see Him." He presses his thumb to his index finger and pantomimes smoking a joint. "Oh, yeah, the Big Guy has the best shit in the universe."

The audience is laughing. And Jay looks relieved.

"Now you know how to tell that God has a messed-up sense of humor? He created us, but he put a waste-disposal facility near the snack bar."
The audience rocks with laughter, even though Robin has told this particular joke many times.

Slowly the sword's flame dies out as Robin continues his routine. When it is completely extinguished, he drops it onto the stage. And deep, deep, down below, Satan can be heard cackling.

So when I come back, I'll try to be funny. For now, I'm trying to save the freaking planet from total destruction. It should only take a couple of weeks. Because I'm awesome.