All My Gettings

So, I'll be among the first to admit that the name I go by in real life is a bit confusing. People are sometimes unsure how to say it. People sometimes think I am Asian before meeting me. A few, let's call them initiated, know that it's a Welsh shortened form of a very popular name. I'm ok with this, as it often leads to a much more interesting first conversation that I would have with most people. Sure, there was the guy named, I kid you not, France who asked me when introduced to me "What sort of name is that?" in a tone that was both condescending and incredulous. His implication, I can only assume is that it's normal for parents from Bluffdale, UT to name their children after geogrpahic entities (his brother's name was Platte and he had a sister Paris), but my name was simply beyond the pale.

All this being said, it still is a little disconcerting to receive, in answer to an email about whether a job is still open, a missive that opens "Ms. [my last name]." I'm going to chalk this one up to the overwhelming majority of women in my field and not, say, a feminine turn to my phrasing. I guess, when in doubt, assume a uterus in library land.

I just handed in my last assignment for this semester. I think I'll pass all my courses. Which means I'm unofficially three-fourths of a librarian. Now, I just need to clean my entire apartment (something I've neglected these past few weeks), pack my bags, have meetings with both supervisors (one should be good, the other iffy), work two more shifts and then I get a month off from all committments. Huzzah!

It's the end of the semester. I'm pretty sure I'll get the worst marks I ever have this time around. This is based on: a teacher who has marked me low for no real reason in one course; another (online) course for which I was hoping to slide by on my charm (sadly my charm is less evident electronically); sleeping in on the day I was supposed to critique a student's presentation and the slapdash group work we turned in for a third course; and in my last course I should eke out an ok mark (say A or A-, depending on how much he bought the Five Wise Virgin Church). I still have a really stupid assignment for my online course to complete (Israeli comics, anyone?) and a project to plan a library space that is worth 50% of my mark for the course. I'm a little stressed, a little despondent (though in no way because of fondant), and a touch panicky. I'm sure it'll all get done...eventually. Or by Friday, as the case may be.

Here is the current question that has forestalled work on my assignments: When making a references list, how do you alphabetize items that are written with non-Roman alphabets? Thoughts?

Currently, I'm listing them after the English titles, in Jewish letters* according the alef-bet order of things. But surely there's a rule here that I just don't know. I don't want to Romanize because then the teacher will know I'm just talking out of my hat when I discuss Israeli works. But the Hebrew is awkward (not to mention that copying and pasting from websites ends up with flipped letters due to the different directions of reading).

On a lighter note, I got to learn that English isn't the only language that uses organ as a euphemism for a certain piece of male bodies. However, due to Hebrew's wacky semantic overlaps (too few words, too many meanings), this same word means limb. And yes, it is sometimes used in the phrase אבר חםשי /eveʀ xamiʃi/ (fifth limb).

*the alphabet that Hebrew is written in is called Jewish letter to not privilege Hebrew over Yiddish.

Yesterday, I was in a car en route to the Legislature Building to hear some singing. In said vehicle was me, my friend, his defacto girlfriend, and the df/gf's roommate. Almost entirely out of the blue, the roommate asks, "What would it take for you guys to use a man purse?" I chuckle, point to the one currently around my neck and say, "not very much, apparently."

She later wanted to dissect my owning of a purse, as if I needed to explain myself. Can't a guy just want to carry a bag? My friend disputed that what I carry (see picture) is actually a purse. Which, of course, led us to a discussion of the features of a purse. He claimed that my bag is too butch to be a purse (and we all know I am the embodiment of butch). He was opting for satchel (which always makes me think of bindle for some reason). I stand firm in my calling it a purse. It's even marketed by Eagle Creek as being "built and designed specifically for women and how they travel." If that's not a purse, I don't know what is.