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book cataloguing

I am spending this evening re-cataloguing my books on goodreads by ISBN after purging my out of date account, if you have an account then add me! If you don't, then go make one and then add me!

It may well take me all night to finish this, but it's something I love doing. Plus I'm armed with a hefty glass of wine, be damned the consequences! Perhaps that's a little insight into why I want to be a librarian (not the wine part). Just as soon as I get around to finishing my literature degree and getting a masters in library science that is. I abandoned a great dream of mine because I fell in love, packed a single suitcase, moved from England to the States and married the man of my dreams. Or something like that, Johnny Depp wasn't actually available at the time. And the man of my dreams isn't ignoring me for a videogame right now.

Just as soon as I work out exactly how to get my transcript over from England and translated into American, I'll be applying to finish my degree. Then I get to pretend to talk smart again and stuff. I know.

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I am a 24 year old British stay at home mother to a two year old boy. Married to a U.S. soldier and currently living in Germany.

I have seen the Vatican from the very top of St Peter's Basilica, the mud in the World War I trenches outside Ypres. I have walked through Montmartre side streets bustling with people in the evening, gotten lost in the streets of Greenwich Village NYC, run through cornfields on the Welsh border and sat outside with a cup of tea watching fireflies in the fields of the outer Chicago suburbs.

I have held the hands of others through addiction, fear, suicide, despair and come out the other side. I have left everything behind to begin anew.
I have fought mental illness and walked through snow in the mountains of the lake district, England. I have explored the morgue in the bowels of an abandoned hospital on a summer evening, climbed to the top of scaffolding on the outside of a five floor warehouse to look at the city lights of Nottingham at night and I have watched the sun setting on the Texas horizon.

I have held my son's tiny hand through the plastic window on an isolette in the NICU ward. Walked, speaking only in whispers, through the catacombs beneath the ground on the outskirts of Rome and seen the fireworks over Heidelberg castle.