Seen this place before?
Blogs with continuity are really good. They tell stories, like little soap operas (hopefully with more normalcy). Each new installation picks up where the old one left off, characters return, and you, the reader, gets to watch the story develop.
I am here today to tell you that this is not that kind of blog. Not yet, anyways. At this time, I am lurching from anecdote to news item to quick shared link, and failing at completing long posts. I wish I wasn’t: I like blogs with continuity. But this little blog is still finding its way into my social media ecosystem.
The start is always a little rocky, more so when we try to make it look marvelous and simple, and I am sorry for that.
Today I’m trying to make my little room pretty with flowers, and perking it up with a Twitter feed. Twitter is also a new shoot in the ecosystem.
While you wait, and wonder when that whole continuity thing will happen, tell me–have you seen that building now featured in the header before?
The first I heard of the tragedy at the Boston Marathon was when I logged on to io9 to see what was new.
Here’s the article I found: How the Boston Marathon tragedy revealed the best side of social media.
This article hit home something that is often lost as
librarians people argue over whether technology is “good” or “bad”: Technology is a tool people use. Whether it is good or bad is totally dependent on whether the people using it are doing so for good or bad.
I’m glad some people are using technology for good.
The ACRL conference is a terrific lead-in to National Library Week. Get all the librarians pumped up on a mix of new ideas, camaraderie, and vender-funded coffee, and then send them back to their libraries glowing with the joy of librarianship. For the record, I bought my own coffee, but I got pretty hyped up seeing what’s happening in academic libraries and hanging out with my awesome librarian friends.
I’m really pleased this year’s theme is “Communities Matter,” because really they do. As a Horrendously Awkward Teen, my only friends were the ones I met in the library’s teen volunteer group. A few years later, my community was the extremely quirky group of library pages I worked with: the only thing any of us had in common was that each of us was extremely passionate about some utterly random thing. When I graduated library school and left the public library, I didn’t join a book club or a tutoring group, but I was was building a community. It was a community of librarians, sometimes awkward, most working in different libraries, always passionate about some random thing.
Who’s in your community?
As if attending a conference wasn’t fraught with enough decisions–which sessions to attend, exhibit hall or no–they also present us with ribbons with which to identify ourselves. Part of me feels just like a Girl Scout collecting badges, and the other part feels like I’m maybe trying too hard to establish a marketable identity.
Oh the agony of decision-making when your body insists it’s only 5:30, not 8:30.
The Association of College and Research Libraries annual conference starts tomorrow, and in the past fee weeks, I have been bombarded with print and e-mail advertisements from what must be every single vendor attending the exhibit hall.
I’m coming already, people. Just be forewarned: I’m not coming with a budget.