A found hour…

I got up at about 11:00, and was delighted when I booted up my computer and saw the time say 10:00. I had completely forgotten about the time change. Yay.

I had a very productive day at the library today. Volume 3 of Technical Communication Quarterly has still not been reshelved, presumably, since Will used it early last week to make some copies from.

I found the book with the periodical in it containing the third paper on Gender that I need to read to do my Literature Review paper, which is due Wednesday. I typed the lit review section of the article into my laptop, and then went through all three articles noting how each was using the lit review section. This has me set up nicely to write the paper now.

I looked up three other articles to be used for reference in our group project. They contain findings about what differentiates men’s writing from women’s writing in a few studies — particularly when describing a picture. To this end, I think we should have the class write a description of a picture or photo, instead of writing about where they were on 9/11/2001. I used the results of the studies to create a criteria list we can use to analyze the written descriptions of Renoir’s, The Luncheon of the Boating Party.


Of the three articles I had to read to come to that conclusion, one was in satellite library, one was in the stacks on the 5th floor and the other was in the stacks on the 4th floor. I used the workstation on the 8th floor, where I originally was, to put in a request for a copy of the article out of the satellite library. That should arrive in my email tomorrow. I went to the 5th and 4th floors respectively, and found the other two articles. I like knowing how to navigate around that huge library to find the things I need.

On the way out, I stopped at the reference librarians’ desk, and asked them what could be done about that Volume 3 of TCQ being missing for over a week. They told me to stop by circulation to ask them to help me locate it. Walking up to that desk, the only attendant there was either writing out a check or balancing her checkbook or something. I told her about the missing volume, and she said, “The best thing to do is to go put a hold on it. That will force the people in periodicals to look for it.

At home, I wrote an email to Will and Tanya telling them about my proposed change to the writing assignment, and then logged into the NCSU Library page to “put the hold” on that missing book. I couldn’t find any way on the website to put a “Hold” on a book, so requested a Live Chat with a Research Librarian.

“Jack” came online and told me, via a chat session, that I needed to call the circulation desk to initiate a search. It’s not called putting a hold on it, it’s called initiating a search — as in a search for a lost book. I told him that I had just been at the circulation desk, and they’re the ones who told me I needed to put a hold on the book. He offered to walk over there to see who was on duty, which was a good customer service, and appreciated, move. He returned to say that he couldn’t find the supervisor, but that I had been given bum scoop, and I should call there again, and ask to speak to a supervisor to initiate a search. With that, we ended the chat.

I called the service desk, and got a very helpful, and committed, “Matthew” to help me. He said he would initiate the search, and when they found the book, they would put a “hold” on it until I came to use it next — so it wouldn’t get reshelved again with the possibility of someone else nabbing it before I could get to it.

I left the library at 6:30, and checked in with Joe. I said, “I need a drink.” He was thrilled, and we agreed to meet for dinner at NY Pizza on Hillsborough St. We each had a slice of pizza and split a third. They are huge slices. I had a pepperoni and sausage slice, and Joe had a pepperoni and mushroom slice. We split a slice of “White Pizza.” It was all delicious, and the scenery in there was just to die for. There was one guy sitting right across from me, with a tank top on and the thickest black pit hair in history. A five o’clock shadow, and thick black leg and arm hair completed the package. Oh yeah, and like, 20 years old. A soccer player in my mind.

We had a great night for a change at Flex. No Andre. No David B. We were just left alone. At one point this guy named Brian, with major attitude came over to play pool. Joe and I were on our 4th or 5th game, and he put his name on the board to play the winner. When Joe and I finished, we just stopped, as neither of us likes to play other people who have any talent at the game at all. We told him we weren’t interested in playing because we’re terrible, and he said, “Come on, play,” so I did.

I did a terrible break. He went next and started calling his pocket. I said, “Excuse me, but if I’m playing, it’s going to have to be shit pool. I can’t call the pockets — only on the eight ball.” He agreed to that, and just had major attitude while playing. It was not at all enjoyable. He beat me, and asked Joe to play with him and Joe refused.

Matt was DJing and played some really good tunes. After a while, Karaoke started, and Rob, a guy I had met a long time ago there, who now lives in Asheville, and we had seen just last night at Legends, came over to talk to me and Joe, and then Joe introduced himself to a guy also standing next to us — what was his name, something unusual, like Koroto? It wasn’t that, as he was Latino, not Japanese, but anyway the four of us carried on singing songs, and goading Joe to sing — which he eventually did. He sang At This Moment and Piano Man. We screamed along.

All in all, it was an enjoyable night without the pests around.

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