The Good and the Bad

Well, I had my official training run today with the Steel City Runners Club.

I wouldn't call it a successful run but I wouldn't call it a failure either.

The Good News: I had my fastest five-mile time. It was a small group of runners today because of the race at North Park that I had originally intended to run but registration was full. We were divided into groups by the mileage we had signed up to run. I registered to run seven. No one else had though; they were either running smaller or higher mileages. Two other runners offered to run their four-mile loop first with me and then run their five-mile loop while I ran a three-mile loop. It ended up that five of decided to run five miles together and figure out afterwards what loops to do next. I'm not going to lie. It wasn't easy but I pounded out five miles and recorded my best time.

The Bad New: I was so exhausted from the five-mile loop with my new running friends that I couldn't do two more miles. The rest of the group didn't continue either. I attribute my inability to run further to be a combination of my faster pace this morning and the fact that I probably should not have run six miles and lifted yesterday. I was so sore. Needless to say, I was pretty discouraged and mad at myself for not getting the seven miles in. Later at lunch with my boyfriend, he reminded me that I had only wanted to run five miles today and I only ended up with seven miles because I clicked too fast during the online registration. That made me feel a little better.

It was a good experience. It was nice not running by myself or at least talking with other runners. I guess slowly I am becoming an official runner. I love when you pass other runners multiple times on a run and you give them a wave or a smile. And I must be crazy but I joined the Steel City Runners Club today. I'm running again with them in two weeks and maybe once before that.

For now, I'm just going to try to stay motivated and not get to down on myself because of my pace. I just want to finish my first half-marathon!

I think I can. I think I can.

Sometimes I surprise myself.

Today's training plan, according to my half marathon guru Hal Higbon, said I needed to run four miles. Plus I need to make up for a strength and stretching session that I missed earlier in the week.

Well, I ended up completing both but I ran 6.1 miles instead of 4 miles. I was pretty impressed with myself.

Granted, I know my pace time wasn't the greatest. I started out pretty fast. I blame Pandora's poor song line-up and too many intersections for my bad time.

Maybe one of my sisters or friends with an awesome collection of music on their iTunes would want to load my phone or iPod with some sweet running jams. It would be much appreciated!

Tomorrow is my first official training run with the Steel City Runners. I'm a little nervous. I'm not a runner. I'm a wannabe runner. It's 7 miles. That will be the most I have done so far.

Plus, I'm a little lost without my running partner who is in London getting married this weekend. OK, that's a good excuse but I miss you Amy!

Positive thoughts. I can do it. I might just be slow.

So, here's to 7 miles!

"I want to be Gracie! I want to be Betty!"

When I was little, my late grandparents would babysit my sisters and I on Thursday evenings while my parents were at bell choir rehearsal. We had special bedtime rituals with our beloved grandmother - we watched airplanes from my bedroom window, listened to stories from her childhood, sang "White Coral Bells" and then gave each other butterfly kisses - her signature. These traditions were preceded by another treasured memory.

My grandma had seven older brothers and sisters. The three youngest were very close - Betty, Billy and Gracie. (When my grandma was seven, she became an older sister after my Aunt Margie was born.) As my sister and I prepared to get ready for bed, we would pretend we were her and her older sister. I always wanted to be Betty, maybe because we were both the older sister. My sister, Annie, was always Gracie. She was and to this day still is the spitting image of our grandmother. There would be happy cheers of "I want to be Gracie!" or "I want to be Betty!" and we would run up the stairs to bed.

From those early days I had nothing but love and admiration for my grandma and her sisters. Of my great aunts, I was the closest to my Aunt Betty even though she lived on the other side of the country in Sun City, Arizona. In the eighth grade, my Aunt Betty and Uncle Ed came to visit. Thinking it would be a nice surprise for my grandma and her sister, my parents asked Annie, Meg and I to sing "Sisters" for them. We fought it but in the end we sang for them (some persuasion in the form of $10 bills from grandpa helped our resistance) though honestly I would have done anything for both my grandma and aunt. They loved it of course!

I loved hearing stories of their youth and adolescence. Most of the stories starred my grandma and Aunt Betty and could make me laugh until I cried and my stomach hurt. The two of them were crazy. They dropped and broke a watermelon once and thought no one would notice if they pieced it back together. They had a bond that couldn't be broken though, no matter what life brought them or how many miles separated them. When the bickering and fighting between my own sisters and I got bad, I remember my mom, grandma and aunt saying..."Be grateful you have a sister." I am. My sisters are my best friends and I know that is how my grandma and her sisters felt even when they stole each others clothes or played pranks on each other.

When my grandma died in 2004, my Aunt Betty helped me through a very difficult time, which I know was also a hard time for her too, losing one of her younger sisters. We wrote letters once or twice a month for the next seven years. I have all of those letters tucked in my precious books and each one holds a special place in my heart, especially now. My dear Aunt Betty died on Monday. The last time I saw her was 2007 and we hadn't written in a few months due to her declining health. It's hard because her death makes me not only miss her but my grandma as well.

The two of them were amazing women, as were all of the sisters. I used to be an awe when looking at old photographs of their beauty and style. I am blessed to have had my grandma, Aunt Betty and all of my other great aunts in my life. They helped to shape the woman I am today.

My memories of these remarkable women will stay alive through the fabulous stories I have of us together and them during their childhood; the photographs - old and new; and all of my wonderful cousins (nine kids makes for a lot of cousins!).

RIP Aunt Betty

I love you! Butterfly kisses!

“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather
openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down
upon us to let us know they are happy.”

Librarian Support Groups

Today I got to spend the morning with other teen librarians at the fabulous Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh for the teen summer reading training.

These meetings are often much needed doses of support and reality.

Sometimes I get very frustrated and think that I'm not doing my job to the best of my ability... My participation numbers are too low. I'm not conducting enough outreach. I haven't found the perfect time and day for programs.

Then I go to meetings with other teen librarians. We talk. We vent. We share ideas. And I realize that we all have the same problems. It's not just me. It's not just my library.

I love my job and after coming back from these meetings, I often realize I am grateful to have such a wonderful job, awesome teens and supportive colleagues.

My name is Carrie and I am a teen librarian.

Happy Hunger Games!

Well, I will be the first to admit that I was not originally thrilled with the Hunger Games series. I read the first book but had no desire to read any further. Normally, I'm not a fan of popular series either but with all the hype surrounding the film release I caved.

During the last month, I have had two teen programs at the library to celebrate the film release. The first party had wacky trivia, a cornucopia challenge and archery (plastic of course). Then yesterday, we played trivia games beforehand at the theater and then watched the movie.

Somewhere along the way, I got hooked. Perhaps it was seeing the excitement of the teens regarding the book and the movie release or that the movie ended up being absolutely fabulous! Now I want to read the first book again and the last two as well.

From a librarian's perspective, it makes me so happy to see that the teens, both boys and girls, are excited about a book! So many, that today when I checked the hold list, it was almost 800! I loved watching the kids laugh, cry, scream and clap during the movie yesterday.

Now, don't get excited, I am not jumping on the Twilight or Harry Potter bandwagons yet. I tried and it wasn't my thing. Hunger Games may be though! I want to be Katniss for Halloween next year!

Happy Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor!

(The odds aren't in your favor if you want to get the book from the library. Sorry, I'd buy it if you really want to read it.)

Here Comes the Sun!

I am absolutely in love with the beautiful weather we are having in Pittsburgh right now! Nothing puts a smile on my face like sunshine, a warm breeze, windows down and Simon and Garfunkel blasting on the radio.

It seems the coming of spring and warm weather always makes me want to escape outside and drink in the glorious sunshine...

When I was little and the weather finally turned warmer all I wanted to do was ride my bike all night or read all day on the front porch glider or run barefoot through the grass.

In middle school I still did all of those things but it also meant treasured afternoons fishing at North Park or playing tennis with my grandpa.

In high school we used to leave early and head to Rita's for a delicious ice on forbidden time, the perfect invitation to warm spring afternoons.

During college, I used to relish studying or reading in the quad at Mount Union or playing tennis at La Roche.

When I lived in Annapolis, I loved spending time in Baltimore, drinking on the deck and enjoying time with friends.

Now, in my old age, I want to do all of those things and probably will do some of them this spring but all I want to do in this weather is RUN!

I hope when I'm 70+ the coming of spring will find me frolicking barefoot through the grass, relaxing in a hammock with a good book, playing tennis with my grandchildren, enjoying a glass of wine on the patio and running.

So happy that warm weather has returned... Get out there and enjoy it!

And spring also means, that Lakeside is only a few short months away!

A Red Headed Woman for St. Patrick's Day

Happy St. Patrick's Day to all of my Irish friends and family! I'm not a big fan of the holiday. My Scotch-Irish heritage from my grandfather never really prompted me to want to celebrate the holiday. This picture, however, was taken on the first and probably only St. Patrick's Day I will ever celebrate. Ahh I miss my long, red hair that went well for the holiday since I always wanted red hair like some of my Irish friends. So, I say that St. Patrick's Day back in 2008 was well celebrated but I'm content just relaxing this year and coming years.

An Accidental Drain Death

Back in October, the children's librarian and myself decided to add a fish tank with tropical fish to the decor of the children's department. So I happily pulled my old fish tank out of storage, a treasured birthday gift from my late grandfather, and donated it to the library. Much to the dismay of the circulation ladies and director, we named those original fish after them. We quickly filled the tank with a collection of zebra danios, mollies and platys. It looked wonderful and the kids absolutely loved it.

Throughout the last six months, we suffered some mass casualties in our happy little fish community. At first we attributed this to a number of different reasons: the big fish were eating the little fish, the fish had ick (ironically the librarian got the flu this same week), the tank was too clean, the tank wasn't clean enough and the list goes on and on. After much thought and frustration after about thirty fish deaths (try explaining all of those to a preschooler), we realized that one fish NEVER died and SURVIVED every mass exodus, Rita, the lone zebra danio from the original fish family. Rita, named after a sweet, older woman who works at the circulation desk, either had a strong will to live or was the culprit in all of these deaths.

Early this week, I decided that the best decision would be to kill those last two fish, including Rita, and start fresh with a clean tank and a brand new set of fish. As today approached though and I prepared to clean the tank, I did not have the heart to murder Rita and her unnamed little fish friend, so I talked one of the other circulation ladies into taking them home for her grandchildren. Knowing that Rita was going to a good home, I put the two fish in a cup in the library kitchen until I had finished cleaning the fish tank, not thinking there would be any problem with that for a few minutes. Well, I cleaned the fish tank and then the hermit crab tank and took the hermit crabs for their weekly walk around the library (yes, I walk our hermit crabs) and went to check on Rita.

I let out a shocked "Oh know" when I saw to my dismay that Rita was no longer in her cup. At this time, Laura and the real Rita joined me in the kitchen to help find the lost fish. The three of us were laying on the floor looking under counters, in repair supplies and behind boxes. We feared the fish had become the latest victim of the library's most unwelcome inhabitant, a mouse or that she had fallen into the repair supplies and the woman who works on those would soon find a dead fish amongst her replacement cases. Just when we were about to give up, we found Rita the fish covered in dust under the counter. Alive! The real Rita grabbed her namesake and headed for the sink to wash her off. At this point, thinking the worst was over, we breathed a sigh of relief.

Wrong! The unnamed friend decided to jump ship and attempt a suicidal plunge right then, so Laura and I jumped around the kitchen trying to catch the fish. We caught him just as the real Rita let out a cry. Rita the fish had squirmed out of her grip and taken a free fall down the drain. So much for our attempts to save her life and find her a new home, she just wanted to continue ruling her watery kingdom in the library fish tank. So, now our little Rita is swimming through the sewers of North Fayette I suppose...

Ah, all in the day of a librarian.

From Strep to Success

Last week was crazy with grant deadlines and I had the hopes that this previous week would bring productivity with another grant to submit, a presentation to deliver and the biggest program next to summer reading to execute. Wrong.

Monday brought a terrible sore throat and after two doctor's appointments I was rendered contagious and out of commission for two days. Say what? Not what this frazzled librarian needs and I will admit that I tried unsuccessfully to work from my bed but sleep won.

Thanks to my supportive coworkers who led my outreach visit; my awesome parents who made me raspberry smoothies and soup; and my amazing boyfriend who brought me flowers and a get well care package, I survived.

And after three negative strep tests, it was declared a bad viral throat infection. Great, thanks for messing with my schedule.

With the final grant submitted and presentation delivered, I finally rested better yesterday. Tonight I am going to rest much better knowing that today's program is done as well.

AND BECAUSE...

I am fortunate to work with the most fabulous teens. They raised $960 at today's Annual Teen Read-A-Thon, which supports teen programming at the library.

AND BECAUSE...

The grant that my colleague and I submitted back in August was awarded $5,000 this week to start a new department. No details right now, sorry.

So, finally I will give myself the best medicine for my lingering sore throat, headache and fatigue...SLEEP WITHOUT A CARE.

Monkee Memories

I'm saddened by the recent death of Davy Jones.

I was a huge fan of the Monkees in high school. I knew all the words to all of the songs. I loved jumping on my bed with my sister singing, "Hey, hey we're the Monkees!" Yes, I jumped on my bed. A lot. But my favorite Monkee memory is remembering how my infatuation with this fabulous band started...

It was the spring of my seventh or eighth grade year I believe and I attended a retreat at our local church camp. The band for the weekend sang "I'm A Believer" but changed the words from "...and then I saw her face" to "...and then I saw his face." "He" being Jesus. Well, being the very impressionable youth that I was, I thought I had just learned this great new song about Jesus. Ha ha! I had no idea it was a famous song until my Dad asked why I was singing it like that. And to that I'm sure I had a smart reply. Apparently, I had ruined a classic hit of his generation. Great song. Not about Jesus tho.

After I discovered it was a real song by real artists, I was blasting the Monkees all the time and singing the correct words. Ahh my stupid teen years...

I fell in love with the Beatles that same weekend. The lyrics weren't manipulated tho.


RIP Davy Jones