Thursday, August 09, 2007

E is for...

For the last few days I have been stuck on E. I had no clue what to write about and nothing was happening that I could even finagle into an E entry. However, two e's popped up--they're not fun e's but there's e's none the less.

Editor, Letter to the
The local paper comes out on Tuesdays and Thursdays and as of late, every Tuesday and Thursday means that there will be a Letter to the Editor about one of the local libraries. The library down the road is in a mess of trouble--there's high staff turnover, patrons are upset with what they see as poor service and lack of useful materials, and the board and the director (who supposedly is evil and in cahoots with the mayor) is completely in denial that there might be a problem. Now, in theory, this wouldn't affect the library where I work--but it does. Because people are reading all about the problems at this other library and then writing in to say "Oh yeah, all of the libraries in the area are horrible! I once had someone who was rude to me at this library and there was another time at the other library!" This is not good. Not good at all. Our library is in the middle of proposing the budget for next year and we're also trying to get a new library (the drama behind that is a whole nother post all together) and any negative press throws a wrench in our efforts. We're now to the point that our director is telling me to hint to our favorite patrons, our regulars, about the letter to the editor in the hopes that they'll write a favorable one defending our library. I can't do that! And speaking of can't do (or perhaps shouldn't do) I should probably shut my yap--don't want to get dooced.

Yesterday, I thought I was getting asked out by one of my patrons, a 13-year-old girl who I'm pretty sure will someday become a serial killer (she is CREEEEEPY). She asked me if I had plans for Friday night after work. I told her that I was going to Madison (for a dirty dancing party! :)). She said "Oh well, Friday is the start of our parish picnic! We're kicking it all off with an outdoor mass and I was going to invite you! It's going to be a really great service and then there's a rummage sale afterward in the big cow barn."

Luckily, I escaped this one but this isn't the first time I've been asked to go to church and I'm sure it won't be the last. Just about once a week, patrons ask me what religion I am, if I've found a church, if I'd be interested in hearing about their church, if I'd like to go to the contemporary outdoor service at the local Lutheran university with them (that was Bernice, my neighbor downstairs). I hate these questions, mainly because I have huge issues with religion. I was born and raised WELS Lutheran and I went to Lutheran school for 7 years (I could probably write an A-Z series of blogs all about the evilness of Lutheran school). Then, my family transfered to an ELCA Lutheran church where I was pretty happy until about a few years ago. Then, a nice little crisis of faith hit and that's where I find myself now. I don't like organized religion, I don't like the politics of it, I don't like the closed minded nature of traditional Lutheran services but I hate the scary praise-band, stadium seating churches, I don't know what I believe in anymore and I don't want to talk to a professional about so he or she can fix me. And plus, my commitment phobic tendencies about relationships tend to play a part in my issues with religion. The idea of testing out new churches and getting tied down to one that is going to make me uncomfortable, smothered and miserable terrifies the crap out of me. See? Religiously speaking, I'm a mess. And all of this patron pressure is NOT helping. Especially when the patron pressure comes from 13-year-old potential serial killers.


At 3:58 PM, Blogger Librarian Girl said...

Yikes! And I thought I had it bad when a somewhat creepy 80-year-old patron asked if he could kiss me to thank me for good service.

Ok, that WAS bad. But I don't get asked about religion from anyone, let alone 13-year-old serial killers. Blah!


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