Once Handwritten, Twice Shy

I am a correspondent. Not like a Brit Hume Rita Cosby Nina Totenberg kind of correspondent. I don't rove the globe in a trench coat seeking answers to questions like what brand of fetishy boots does Condie Rice wear or how come Dick Cheney shot his homie in the face. I am a correspondent in the sense that I enjoy corresponding with people. I like emailing, and love IMing, and I write good old fashioned snail mail letters at least once a week.

So as part of my schtick here in Libraryland, sometimes I try to make community contacts a few different ways. Email works for some, but for others an email from me, the librarian they haven't yet met, is something that goes straight to the trash. To them, seeing my name pop up in their inbox in no different than a gem from Hortense Lipschitz with the subject line "pretty baby and nothing hardness?". (That's an actual spam that sits in my inbox right now. That Hortense. Always talking about people's nothing hardness.)

So to combat this, I do a few different things. Sometimes I do what I call a "drive by," where I stop in to the school/community center/organization unannounced with all sorts of library goodies to introduce or re-introduce myself to whoever may be in need of my librarianing services. Sometimes they have time to chat with me, which is great, and other times they don't, but in any case I always leave behind a packet of info and my business card. I figure maybe they will remember me if they've taken a gander at my fancy shoes or my winning ways.

Another thing I sometimes do is write a handwritten note to some contacts, along with sending them whatever information I am peddling that day. I really believe that a personal touch will be noticed, and although I am most likely deluding myself, it makes me feel more optimistic about getting these effers' attention. And I need to keep the faith, because sometimes my relationships with community contacts hearkens me back to the days of Bad Boyfriends for Librarian Girl. I chase them and call them, then wait by the phone, willing it to ring. Do you think he noticed me? Will he call? Only to be disappointed when a local teacher strolls into the library and I excitedly say "hello again," only to be met with a halfhearted "oh, hi. what was your name again?" I swear, all these teachers would have to do is go to third base with some other hoochie at Mike Maverdes' party and I will be convinced that I am in 11th grade again.

So today I sat at my desk and wrote out a few handwritten notes to some area teachers, inviting them and their students to a library program coming up next week. I put the notes in an envelope, along with my business card and a flier, and mailed them off in hopes that they would stir up an audience. "I hope to see you there! Sincerely, Librarian Girl." This was the way I ended each note. After writing this a dozen times, I sealed up all the envelopes. Then, I froze. HAD I written "Sincerely" on each of those notes? Because, you see, I write a lot of cards, notes and letters in my personal life, and I never write "sincerely." I usually write "love." Had I, in my ever-so-personalized-but-yet-absentminded way, accidentally signed my name the way I usually do? Had I said "hope to see you there! Love, Librarian Girl"? Oh good lord. Now that I have had this thought, I am 50% positive that I could have. So do I rip open all these envelopes and check? No, because that would be neurotic and wasteful. Because I didn't write that! I don't think. I pay better attention than that. Don't I? I went ahead and sent the notes, for better or worse, even though I know that the last thing you want to do with a Bad Boyrfriend/School Contact is to ever use the word LOVE with them. Right? And if any of you out there tell me that these contacts are Just Not That Into Me, I will pull a Dick Cheney. Seriously.

Kiss the rings, I'm out.
Librarian Girl