I found my study spot. Here I was naively scouting out the best places to thesis edit, blog, do classwork, and lesson plan in all the different typical places in Kirkwood and the best spot was right up the street from me: Kirkwood library!
I'm meticulously picky when it comes to "my spot" - Sheldon Cooper has nothing on me. Once I find the perfect study location I will hunker down for days, only getting up to eat, take a bathroom break, and ask an employee what day it is. Freshman and sophomore year of college it was the dining hall. Junior year it was Blue State coffee on Commonwealth ave. Senior year it was the 2nd floor study lounge in my apartment building. First year of grad school it was my cubicle.
I'm not sure which fibers in my brain connect to tell the rest of my brain that this is the spot, but without a doubt it happens at the beginning of every semester. And once I sat down in the classic wooden chairs in the corner of Kirkwood library - I knew I was settled in for good.
I tried Kaldi's Coffee but honestly the constant coming and going of middle schoolers and high schools left me on the anxious side. There is nothing cute about a pre-teen. And Pizza Temper Tantrum man ruined the whole "chill vibe".
I tried Bread Company but the lack of outlets, big tables, and overall space made me feel claustrophobic and limited in my choices.
Doing work at home was nice for all of 5 minutes until I needed internet (my parents are in the 1% that do not have WIFI) and Luna kept pawing my computer (perhaps she's trying to communicate? "Hello. This is dog.")
There's a small bookstore in Kirkwood that I thought would be great until I realized it smelled like cat litter and the squinty employee made me feel like I was an imposition more than a guest.
Reluctantly, I headed to the local library. The library has never been my thing. I like "my spot" to have a consistent population base, with a flux of about 10 people preferably over the age of 30. I don't like libraries because on any given day of the week during the semester it'll be completely empty. And I'll find a nice spot - maybe not "my spot", but a nice spot - and do my work throughout the weeks. Then, the week before exam week, people literally come out of the woodwork and camp out at the tables, on the floors, in the aisles, on window sills, on top of each other, etc. And so here I come on a Saturday morning, ready to do my work in my usual spot...only to find some sorority biddy with her all her notebooks and papers and highlighters and notecards and cheat sheets and graphs spread all over my spot...while she's texting and on facebook and talking loudly to her sisters about why she's 'incredibly hungover.'
And then I have to stand there in the middle of the room in all my awkward glory, gawking, and trying to calculate what the best form of action is...which usually ends up in me going home rather than comfortably sitting myself in the only open spot - which, on a university campus during exam week, is usually under a table at the foot of some sleeping engineering major.
I am, however, delighted at the Kirkwood library. Although it's about 5 degrees too cold, the big paned windows and dark wood makes me almost feel like I'm back in the Boston Public Library. In my experience (which has been the past two days) there has always a giant table open, and currently my only neighbor is an adorable old man reading the newspaper (approximate age, based on the size of his ears and sock/shoe combination, is 76). A bronze statue of a buffalo and the bust of who I think is Benjamin Franklin (I'll check on that one in second) is across from me, making me feel all the more literate.
There's huge black and white pictures on the walls, a clock within clear view, and comfy chairs with desk attachments. The ceilings are high. The room is airy and well lit. I particularly like the stucco walls and the Greek inspired columns.
I am also amused the people who work here, which is the most important factor of picking "my spot". The woman at the front desk spent no less than 20 minutes explaining every detail of what I am agreeing to when I sign the Kirkwood Library membership card agreement (comparable to a divorce packet). She took time away from scanning a stack of library books that stretched straight to the ceiling to inform me: how to access internet, how to print both color and black/white documents, and how to copy, fax, and scan items. She told me about the fees associated with a variety of different items available at the library, the different classes that are available, about other libraries I can rent from with my library card, how to check a library book out, the hours of the library, and how I can be involved in the library's governance. She also told me in a tone that denoted the utmost respect, that this particular library is apart of The Municipal Library Consortium - not the 'county libraries.' I responded with a serious nod that I hope reflected my reverence and not my naivety. She seemed satisfied with my response.
After the lecture, which I found myself taking notes on and questioning whether I should have my lawyer present, she even provided several pamphlets for my reading pleasure later. I do love a good pamphlet. After encouraging me to not hesitate to ask if I had any questions, she sent me on my way with an armload of papers, my personalized library card, and the feeling that one wrong step in this 'consortium' could land me in a federal prison.
I'll take the risk. If someone asks, this is where I'll be.
The bust is William Shakespeare. I was right about the buffalo, though.
I'm meticulously picky when it comes to "my spot" - Sheldon Cooper has nothing on me. Once I find the perfect study location I will hunker down for days, only getting up to eat, take a bathroom break, and ask an employee what day it is. Freshman and sophomore year of college it was the dining hall. Junior year it was Blue State coffee on Commonwealth ave. Senior year it was the 2nd floor study lounge in my apartment building. First year of grad school it was my cubicle.
I'm not sure which fibers in my brain connect to tell the rest of my brain that this is the spot, but without a doubt it happens at the beginning of every semester. And once I sat down in the classic wooden chairs in the corner of Kirkwood library - I knew I was settled in for good.
I tried Kaldi's Coffee but honestly the constant coming and going of middle schoolers and high schools left me on the anxious side. There is nothing cute about a pre-teen. And Pizza Temper Tantrum man ruined the whole "chill vibe".
I tried Bread Company but the lack of outlets, big tables, and overall space made me feel claustrophobic and limited in my choices.
Doing work at home was nice for all of 5 minutes until I needed internet (my parents are in the 1% that do not have WIFI) and Luna kept pawing my computer (perhaps she's trying to communicate? "Hello. This is dog.")
There's a small bookstore in Kirkwood that I thought would be great until I realized it smelled like cat litter and the squinty employee made me feel like I was an imposition more than a guest.
Reluctantly, I headed to the local library. The library has never been my thing. I like "my spot" to have a consistent population base, with a flux of about 10 people preferably over the age of 30. I don't like libraries because on any given day of the week during the semester it'll be completely empty. And I'll find a nice spot - maybe not "my spot", but a nice spot - and do my work throughout the weeks. Then, the week before exam week, people literally come out of the woodwork and camp out at the tables, on the floors, in the aisles, on window sills, on top of each other, etc. And so here I come on a Saturday morning, ready to do my work in my usual spot...only to find some sorority biddy with her all her notebooks and papers and highlighters and notecards and cheat sheets and graphs spread all over my spot...while she's texting and on facebook and talking loudly to her sisters about why she's 'incredibly hungover.'
And then I have to stand there in the middle of the room in all my awkward glory, gawking, and trying to calculate what the best form of action is...which usually ends up in me going home rather than comfortably sitting myself in the only open spot - which, on a university campus during exam week, is usually under a table at the foot of some sleeping engineering major.
I am, however, delighted at the Kirkwood library. Although it's about 5 degrees too cold, the big paned windows and dark wood makes me almost feel like I'm back in the Boston Public Library. In my experience (which has been the past two days) there has always a giant table open, and currently my only neighbor is an adorable old man reading the newspaper (approximate age, based on the size of his ears and sock/shoe combination, is 76). A bronze statue of a buffalo and the bust of who I think is Benjamin Franklin (I'll check on that one in second) is across from me, making me feel all the more literate.
There's huge black and white pictures on the walls, a clock within clear view, and comfy chairs with desk attachments. The ceilings are high. The room is airy and well lit. I particularly like the stucco walls and the Greek inspired columns.
I am also amused the people who work here, which is the most important factor of picking "my spot". The woman at the front desk spent no less than 20 minutes explaining every detail of what I am agreeing to when I sign the Kirkwood Library membership card agreement (comparable to a divorce packet). She took time away from scanning a stack of library books that stretched straight to the ceiling to inform me: how to access internet, how to print both color and black/white documents, and how to copy, fax, and scan items. She told me about the fees associated with a variety of different items available at the library, the different classes that are available, about other libraries I can rent from with my library card, how to check a library book out, the hours of the library, and how I can be involved in the library's governance. She also told me in a tone that denoted the utmost respect, that this particular library is apart of The Municipal Library Consortium - not the 'county libraries.' I responded with a serious nod that I hope reflected my reverence and not my naivety. She seemed satisfied with my response.
After the lecture, which I found myself taking notes on and questioning whether I should have my lawyer present, she even provided several pamphlets for my reading pleasure later. I do love a good pamphlet. After encouraging me to not hesitate to ask if I had any questions, she sent me on my way with an armload of papers, my personalized library card, and the feeling that one wrong step in this 'consortium' could land me in a federal prison.
I'll take the risk. If someone asks, this is where I'll be.
The bust is William Shakespeare. I was right about the buffalo, though.
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