Library Literacy

The incoming BYU freshman has an average GPA of 3.8. You would think that it would be a fair indication that the above-mentioned freshman would possess a certain amount of intelligence, or at least common-sense. Yet, as a student library assistant on campus, I never cease to be amazed at the questions and responses I get from patrons at our reference desk. Maybe part of the problem is that we have so many elderly patrons, who are getting a little forgetful in their advancing age, and who did not have the advantage of growing up around technology. Whatever the reason, I constantly hear questions and responses that make me wonder how much intelligence the 3.8 GPA really stands for. A few prime examples:

Today while I filled out a microfilm order form, I asked the patron if any of the films she wished to order were in consecutive order. In response I got a blank stare. "What does that mean?" Maybe I'm being a little harsh, but didn't we learn about consecutive numbers in 7th grade?

On the right-hand side of the reference desk, we have a big black sign that clearly states "Check Out Books At Circulation." Yet, every day we get more patrons asking "Can I check this out here?" than I have fingers and toes to count!

Also today, while I was filling out the aforementioned microfilm order, another patron came up to ask why her film was printing white words on black instead of black words on white. The same patron that couldn't define "consecutive" promptly began explaining to patron #2 that if she wanted to read her film, she needed to turn it upside down before putting it in the printer. When patron #2 replied that she had put the film in the right way, patron #2 repeated herself, insisting that the film must be in upside down. Finally I interrupted patron #1 and informed her that the real reason her film was turning out black was because someone had pushed the Negative/Positive button on the machine.

Question over the phone: "I need to find a book, but I don't remember the name of it. My brother gave it to me, but I don't want him to know that I lost the book."
Me: "Do you remember what the book was about?"
Patron: "It was newspaper interviews of David Whitmer and I think it was volume 7 in a set."
Me: "Can you remember anything else about the book?"
Patron: "It had a sillhouette of a woman on the front cover. Do you have any books that look like that in your section?"

One of my most recent favorites is our signature card machine. The machine can check the balance on student cards, put cash deposits on cards, and sell guest cards. On the top, right-hand corner of the machine there is a little screen that gives very specific instructions "Insert and remove card. Insert bill. Done. (to name a few)" Yet without fail we get patrons complaining "I can't figure out how this thing works!" while attempting to stuff a bill in without swiping their card first or even pushing the start button. Did we not learn how to read and follow instructions in first grade?

Another personal favorite: Patron asks me to come read a word on a film page. I tell them what I think the word says. The patron corrects me: "No, it says such-and-such!" Well, if you were so sure, then, why did you ask me?

One common problem occurs when patrons try to print census pages from Ancestry.com. Usually the census page is embedded within the Ancestry.com webpage, and has its own print button, also embedded within the middle of the page. Many patrons try to print by clicking on the File button and then scrolling down to print. The problem is that for some reason when you click File + Print, Ancestry prints a blank page. You have to go into the print button within the census page to actually print the census. Frequently we get patrons asking why their census didn't print. Often when I explain that it's necessary to use the inner print button, the patron retorts "I already did that." Yet, when I insist that we try the inner print button again, 100% of the time it fixes the problem. Amazing. Who would have thought a reference assistant might actually be right?

I'm sure it won't be long before I have more to add to this list, but in the meantime, at least I get a kick out of my job. And, at least I know how to read.

Change

Change. It can be so good and so bad. Every time I have a major change in my life, it is always a little scary. Usually change means taking a step in the dark-- facing the new and unknown. And, as my family and friends know, the unknown and I are not particularly great friends. I prefer things to stay stable and comfortable. (Why else do you think I still have the same blanket on my bed that I slept with when I was eight? The "Scottie-dog" blanket even made it through the mission and back.)
But, sometimes change is necessary. I know my sisters had to work hard on me to change a lot of things. If I had had my way, I never would have known the joy of pierced ears, flat razors, makeup, layered hair, highlights, clothes other than the ugly checkered button-up shirts I always used to wear, country dancing, and a lot of other minor but life-altering things.
At this time of my life, it seems like change is inevitable. So many things change so easily when you're a single college student. Just over the last few weeks, for example, I have changed classes, work schedule, wards, apartments, roomates, and more. As I reflected back on the changes that have taken place this week, mainly in moving, I have realized there are both benefits and disadvantages to changing apartments.

Good things about moving:
1. A change of scenery
2. New people to meet
3. Nice new roomates
4. Closer to Mom and Dad
5. I don't have to be Ward Family History Consultant anymore!
6. I don't have to be in a ward full of guys I have dated and rejected anymore!
7. Fun ward

Less-good things about moving:
1. Not knowing anyone's name yet when everyone knows mine
2. 20 minute walk from campus (Brr. At least it's good exercise, though.)
3. Tiny parking lot that makes driving the van feel like maneuvering a school bus.
4. Packing and unpacking. Can I just say yuck!
5. Carrying all my boxes down 3 stories and up another 2.
6. No storage space (Just try splitting fridge and pantry space between 6 girls. Or worse, splitting bathroom space.)
7. Farther from the married siblings (and all the cute nieces and nephews!)

Here's to a new semester with lots of good changes. Hopefully it will be my best semester yet.

Moving messes

Why is moving always such a pain?

I should be getting fairly good at packing by now-- between all my mission transfers and apartment switches I think this is at least the fourteenth time I've packed everything up in the last three years. In spite of all that experience, it never seems to get any more enjoyable. It never ceases to amaze me how much junk I manage to cram into half of an apartment room, a bathroom cupboard, and a kitchen cupboard. Somehow it doesn't seem fair that all that stuff multiplies like rabbits. It seems like every time I'm congratulating myself on finally putting together a stash of bags for D.I., it's suddenly time to start all over again. One of my mission companions used to say that when she got old and lived alone, all she wanted was a rug, a spoon and a plate. That was it. No mess, no materialism, just simple peaceful solitude.
As much as I'd like my mess to diminish overnight, I'm not sure I'm ready to go that extreme. After all, how could I do without my computer? Or my cell phone? Or my many books? Or my stack of every letter I ever received on my mission? (Okay, fine, maybe I could do without that one!)
I guess I'm not ready to completely give up all my material possesions yet. But, I guess everyone has their weakness. I guess what I really need is a bag like Merlin has, on the Disney film, The Sword and the Stone. No matter how much clutter he has in his tower, somehow it all fits into one small bag. Just a wave of his wand and everything flies neatly into the satchel. Wouldn't that make packing so much simpler?