From the catalogs of babes

{September 28, 2010}   oh, I have a blog?

Oh hai! I can haz a blog! It’s not like I forgot, it’s just that, well, doing things like fixing up a house and putting it on the market and moving across the country to a brand-new city and starting an entirely new school program kinda distracted me a little.

I really intended to post over the summer. I had some great ideas for posts! (Well, in my opinion, anyway.) But things happened and time got away from me so much that not only have I not posted anything since July, I haven’t even read any blogs since then. I feel very out of touch with not only the library world in general, but most especially professional practice.

This worries me, not just on a personal ignorance level, but especially in the context of this blog. See, the whole point of this here little exercise was to report experiences from the trenches–unique and bizarre trenches, sure, but real, day-to-day  experiences and effects nonetheless. And I’m no longer in a position to do that. While I don’t ever want to sacrifice my professional vocational experience in my studies, the fact is that I am starting to view things through the scholastic filter of academia. My goal is to always be able to keep a balance between the two sides of that coin, but I honestly have no idea how realistic that is or how successful I’ll be at it.

So what does that mean for this blog? (In English, since you can see I seem to already be getting caught up in the esoteric speak of academics…) I feel untrue and hypocritical trying to continue writing here under the guise of professional experience. Sure, I have backstories I could tell, or parables inspired by recent news events and happenings. But part of why I started writing in the first place was because I was tired of irrelevant edicts from academic theorists who knew the “right” way things “should” work without any real-world experience or context. I don’t want to become one of the voices I was retaliating against in the first place.

I still have plenty of opinions and things I want to say, but I’m not sure this is the right place for them. I’m not sure yet where such a place might be. And I’m not sure I won’t be in a position again in a year or 5 to once again offer and comment on concrete experiences and ideas stemming from there. I’m not sure that I won’t start some other blog or writing project in the meantime–people who know me seem to think I’ll explode without some outlet for my thoughts an opinions (though I suspect they may just be tired of shouldering the brunt of listening to all of my rants…) But I’ve always hated bloggers who’ve  left their projects to trickle off, so I wanted to offer some sort of conclusion, even if it ends up being transitional or temporary.

I really want to thank everyone who read this blog, ever commented (positively or negatively!), everyone who linked here or emailed links to others. Thanks for all your feedback and encouragement and support–deep down, I still believe librarianship is a profession about people, and the people I’ve met and connected with through this blog are amazing! Putting thoughts out there can be immensely intimidating, and every time I opened my email or read the comments I thought, “this is it, this time I’m on the chopping block.” But you people were crazy enough to respond encouragingly and supportively (and sometimes even in agreement!). I can’t tell you how much strength and confidence that builds, and I know it played a role in my professional development and this new academic path I’m following. Thank you.

If I decide to start writing again, or some other project, I’ll post here to let you know. This might be the last you’ll hear from me for now, but (barring any unforeseen accidents involving bread trucks) you’ll hear from me again. I’m far too opinionated with too big a mouth to stay silent for long. Comments & email should still work, if you need to reach me.

I don’t know what else to say besides: it’s been fun. Thanks.


et cetera