Guest lecture: Paul Wouters

Paul WoutersPaul Wouters, director of the Virtual Knowledge Studio in Amsterdam, was our inspiring guest lecturer today. He talked about a lot of really fascinating things, but one thing that really struck me was at the very beginning of the lecture. Paul mentioned how in the U.S., we use the term “information technology,” while Nederlanders use the term “information and communication technology” (ICT). Americans’ omission of “communication” in connection with technology seems pretty significant to me. After all, if it were not for communication, it would be nearly impossible for people to get information using the technology we currently have. (I could go off on the meaning of information here, but that’s best left for MLIS classes.)

Technology does, in fact, change the ways we communicate. Continue reading ‘Guest lecture: Paul Wouters’

Market day

I needed a day to wander around by myself, so I went to flower market and the Albert Cuyp market. The flower market had quite a few fresh flowers, but mostly it sold tulip bulbs and wooden tulips. I enjoyed fantasizing about planting hundreds of tulips in the scraggly flower beds outside my duplex, but I didn’t end up buying anything. The Albert Cuyp market was amazing. It’s a huge street market that is open daily (except Sunday) from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., and it sells just about anything you could ever need. There were stalls for bicycles, fish, stroopwafels, footwear, household items, fabric, produce and much, much more. I was tempted by several items there, but I only bought fruit. Produce here is super cheap, but it doesn’t seem to make it into very many meals in very detectable quantities. I savored my affordable apple.

Frites, churches and a group dinner

After lecture this morning, Greta and I decided to go to the Anne Frank House museum. When we got there, however, the line to get in stretched around the block, and we didn’t know if we’d have time to wait and go through before our group dinner tonight. We were both feeling a bit hungry, so we asked a man working in a nearby souvenir shop where we could find some good frites (Dutch-style fries). He gave us some convoluted directions to a shop several blocks away and assured us that all of the locals got frites there. He promised they would be “the best frites you’ve had in your life.” Continue reading ‘Frites, churches and a group dinner’

Tall ships and fireworks

Today was the first day of the UW iSchool’s Netherlands Exchange program. Almost everyone in the program arrived today, so people were tired. I came a week early to check out Copenhagen, however, so my inner clock had pretty much adjusted to the time difference; I was ready to play. Luckily, I talked a few people into going to see the ships that were here for Sail 2010. Pretty cool. There were ships, people singing sea shanties, and fireworks that we watched from behind the bow of a particularly humongous ship. By the end of the fireworks show, the smoke was so thick that the fireworks were almost completely obscured, but we still had a great time. It was a great start to my Netherlands experience.

It’s been awhile

I’ve neglected my blog for a few months now, so I really need to get back in the blogging habit. Eventually I’ll do some backblogging, but for now I’ll add some posts that I wrote for a blog on the three-week class I’m taking in the Netherlands.

The poor girl’s guide to auto body repair

Last summer when I was in Arizona, someone dinged my car while it was parked on the street outside my house in Seattle. The inconsiderate someone didn’t leave a note or offer to pay for repairs, and I was too poor at the time to get it fixed (I’m still too poor). So the dent has bugged me every time I drive my car, which is only about once a week, so it has been endurable. The thing that really bugged me about it, though, was that the dent distorted my bumper enough that the clips on the car didn’t hold the bumper flush to the side of the car. I don’t know why things like that bug me, but they do. So this weekend I decided to take things into my own hands.

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Happy birthday, Celia!

This morning I woke up with a headache and sore throat, so I seriously contemplated skipping class and staying home to look at pictures and watch videos of my angel sister, Celia, since today is her birthday. Then I started thinking about the last few days of Celia’s life. Last year I spent the night at her house the night before her birthday, and — as I often do — I read late into the night. The next morning, I woke up groggy and grouchy because I hadn’t had my eight hours of sleep. Celia had stayed up pretty late, too, and she woke up with a headache, an occurrence that had been way too frequent those days. Celia asked if I wanted to go to church with her family, but I decided I’d sleep a little longer and count going to my nephew Josh’s blessing later that day as my church attendance.

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Can’t sleep

Every once in awhile I have a bout of insomnia. Last night was one of those times. It didn’t help that the tapping I kept hearing outside my window reminded me of those creepy urban legends (or contemporary folktales, as we called them in my BYU folklore class) my friends used to tell me. You know, like the stories where the babysitter goes outside to check on a tapping noise and never comes back and the kids hear the tapping all night but don’t go outside to check on her because they’re scared, but then in the morning they go outside and see the dead babysitter hanging from a tree, her dangling foot tapping against the window. (Yes, urban legends are best told in run-on sentences). That sort of thing.

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Librarians galore

I just got home from the Public Library Association‘s 13th national conference in Portland. Oy. I think when my brain has had a chance to process everything, I’ll find that I learned a lot while I was sitting in those dark rooms of the Oregon Convention Center, but the main impression I had was that there are a lot of librarians in this country. Thank goodness. If you’re reading this post, I want you to take a moment and think of the ways librarians have contributed to the betterment of you and your community. If you can’t think of anything, send me a note and we’ll talk.

Big Climb

The overblown, schmaltzy strains of Queen’s “We Are the Champions” filled my ears as I stepped through the doors of the 73rd floor of the Columbia Center in downtown Seattle. I had just climbed 1,311 stairs — 69 floors — in Seattle’s tallest building to help raise awareness and money (by the way, you still have time to donate) for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, but I didn’t feel like much of a champion. The first 60 floors of the Big Climb were pretty easy as I kept a steady, gentle pace floor after floor. But when the bracelet Maria gave me the day of Celia’s funeral snapped in half after catching on my pocket, I just wanted to be done, so I raced up the last nine floors. I was a sweaty, breathless mess by the time I got to the top, and I had awhile to wait while Meg caught up with me. Thinking time.

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