I saw a nice job posted today, with Ymddiriedolaeth Gig Felindre. Only problem... what if they asked me to pronounce the name of the department at the interview?

Do you see the little labels "sold" underneath the paintings Pentre-Ifan and Proleek? Do you know what that means? Huh? I'm *so* excited. Happy. Humbled. Did I mention speechless? They will be arriving any day, and my heart is full of stories of the Children's Crusade, of pilgrims and wolves. Of anger and loss.

I'm on the radio: the CBC did a radio documentary on Canadian librarians in NYC [listen here]. Howdy to any listeners who straggled on over after hearing it.

I'm feeling kind of sad about the whole thing at the moment, and it's mostly about my ability to stay here. The librarian from Queens Public Library mentioned at the end that he'd been able to get a green card from his employer. I've had no such luck with my library system. When my work visa expires - in 2006 - I will have been in NYC for 10 years. There is no flexibility with the INS... once the visa is up you are to leave immediately.

Thing is, I'll have to decide, soon-ish, if I should head back to Canada. There's a fun-looking job currently advertised on Cape Breton Island - and it's such a good match. My favorite Buddhist lives on Cape Breton Island, actually.

So the question becomes am I being pushed? And should I jump?

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

A very unglam thing happened on the way to work Friday. I was daydreaming along in the last car of the "F" train when ... WHAM ... in the space of about a half second I was lying on the floor of the train. Turns out something triggered the emergency brake and we screeched to a stop. That is, the train screeched to a stop. Me, I kept going. You know, objects in motion and all that.

I sprained my ankle, bashed my shoulder, banged a rib. I was mortified (very undignified, very unladylike, very unglamorous) but two nice men plucked me from the ground and one of them even gave me his seat. For the few seconds I was down there I couldn't help but think "what an interesting angle... down here on the ground with all these shoes and boots and ankles and knees all around me.... great photo op...." Yes, this is what photography has done!

I'm dinged, but not broken, and I'm back at work today.

[Postscript: I never found out what triggered the brake, but I hope it was something important. Like a llama on the track. Or a herd of reindeer.]