I've been reading your blog for a couple of years now, but I think I need to take a break. I love the entries about the rogues, but we've been reading a *lot* lately about the inner workings of your bowels and what you find in the liberry's bathroom. I'm often reading as I have my breakfast, but even if I weren't, I think it would still be a bit much.
Just wanted to know I really enjoy what you do, but the entries about rogues and your life with your sweetie are much better fodder for reading than entries about doo and speculation about the goings-on in your liberry's bathroom.
Although I'm being honest here, I remain a fan. I hope that's okay. I'll check back in later and see if you have "moved" out of bowels of bathroom lit.
Michelle, the academic liberrian.
P.S. Sorry to hear about your fish. We are pet lovers around my house.
Thanks very much for the letter.
I suspect you're right about there being a few too many bathroom-related entries as of late. It's not my intention to write a gross-out blog, it's just that the bathroom-related problems we're having are the ones driving me the most insane right now. Still, I have actually been thinking along similar lines myself, particularly after penning last week's And Now, We Now Return to Our Regularly Scheduled Program entry. It was chock full of disgusting bathroom-related material and got me to thinking that I might be dwelling on it a bit much.
A few years ago, I had a similar realization that much of my output had become devoted to the patron who was driving us most insane back then, the man known as Parka. Rather than continuing to devote the majority of my blog output to chronicling his annoying behavior, I decided to just let readers take it as a given that he was continuing to behave annoyingly and just not write about it anymore. Of course, there was still the occasional incident that deserved chronicling, but by and large I left him out. And not terribly long after I stopped writing about him, he went into a self-imposed exile from our branch after figuratively showing his ass one day. He eventually returned, like a big, annoying, Michelin Man-parka-clad, bad penny, but within a couple of months had actually left town, seemingly for good. This may yet be more evidence in my theory that the more energy and thoughts you beam toward the Rogues the more power they gain; which is why I never mentioned his ultimate departure here AT ALL, so as not to jinx it. (And let us hope this note doesn't accomplish that.) I guess the lesson to be learned about poop humor is: a little goes a long way, but a lot can stink up the place—kind of like Fred Schneider songs.
So, that said, barring any major newsworthy poo-festivals or stank ho-downs that occur, my official New Year's Resolution for the blog is to let my readership assume that the horrors in our restroom are continuing unabated, though unchronicled. Believe me, I have plenty of material to cover beyond it. (Plus, maybe if I stop obsessing over everyone else's mookystinks, they'll stop leaving them behind for me to find.)
Don't go anywhere just yet, Michelle. I enjoy having thoughtful, honest people such as yourself as readers.