Friday, February 04, 2005

Imposter

I'm having flashbacks. I'm currently hanging out in the library of Columbia University's Teachers College trying not to reveal myself as an imposter student. This is not as hard as I would have thought since I'm dressed in my work clothes and apparently this school either attracts a very different crowd than my alma matter or the college fashion world has dramatically altered in less than five years - there are no threadbare sweaters, teeny skirts, hippie sandals or band t-shirts to be seen. Maybe cause it's grad school?

It feels really weird to be back in a college library, which surprises me. I spent like 93% of my time at school sleeping, snacking, spying, reading, highlighting, emailing, gossiping, thinking, writing and occasionally even kissing in the library. I loved our ugly, comfy Mudd with its seventies kitchen colors and its dubious cushions and its hidden corners. If there's one regret that I have about not pursuing honors it's that I never got my private study.

The only libraries I've been in the last four years are the of the Brooklyn Public variety. And while I love the urban majesty of Brooklyn Central, it's a bit of a walk and it depresses me that the video rental section is the most popular. The closer library had its hours cut and is barely ever open at a time when I can get there. I like to peruse its two rows of fiction and it always offers up amusing, surprisingly small-town style episodes like the hubbub caused by a trapped squirel. But it is by no means a bastion of learning and does not fill me with a passion for knowledge.

This library seeps knowledge and learning and scholarliness from its polished table tops and orderly shelves and I should love it but I don't, not as much as I want to. Maybe I'll go find a place to nap.