Just a moment ago I was sitting at the reference desk, browsing articles online, and I came across the obituary of super smart lady/general badass Diane Middlebrook. What really caught my eye (besides the reference to her as a "salonnière" - how awesome is that?) was the mention of a biography she authored on jazz musician Billy Tipton.

Born Dorothy Lucille Tipton in 1914, she lived as a he (at first only professionally; later in life, entirely) from age 19 until his death in 1989.

You know there are just A TON of fascinating stories, there.

I did a quick check in our catalog to see if we had the book in our library system, and -yay!- we did. The single copy was checked in and sitting on the shelf about 30 feet away from my spot at the desk.

Ah, instant gratification, how I love thee.

So we know what I'll be doing tonight. Drinking wine and reading about a cross-dressing lesbian jazz musician who had a thing for prostitutes and strippers.

Same old, same old.

Another cool job thing: earlier this morning a little girl, about four years old, hugged my legs and told me that I was her best friend. Sure, she was eyeing the stickers I was handing out, but still.

(I totally gave her three.)