Once upon a time there was a girl named Caitlin who loved her school very much and whose favorite color in the world was blue. Everyday she would arise and say: 'I love my school and I love blue . . .but . . .' But indeed. Caitlin adored the mountains and was practically in love with the library (especially the antique-feeling music/dance reading room) she found her suitemates to be charming and her aquaintances in the room just below them to be engaging. She had formed an attachment to the smallish basement piano room and found living with a girl who has perfect pitch to be excessively advantageous. She had developed a taste for morning walks and had even started to be on speaking terms with Blackboard. The total lack of humidity did wonders for her Ginger curls and she was drinking kabillions of gallons of water everyday, which helped with overall health, fortitude, not to mention her skin. She found meeting new people a nercitng (nervous and exciting) experience and daily strived to become better at it. Nothwithstanding all the afore mentioned lovelies there was always a tiny but for Caitlin (in more ways than one). There were things that dumbfounded poor Caitlin about the place she was growing to love so dearly. One was that no matter what time one should go to the library and sit at a computer in the 'No Shh Zone' there would always be an angry baby. Now Caitlin understood the idea that you could say words or chit chat on the phone or sing an aria or cry real salt tears to your heart's content in this 'No Shh Zone' but it never ceased to amaze her that always there would be a displeased baby somewhere nearby. This made her think that the library is not a positive place for babies and could eventually lead to a dislike of places that store books and then to a general mislike of all books, which is probably why today's youth do not read as much as they ought to . . .they were all taken to the 'No Shh Zone' in the Harold B. Lee library as infants and screamed to the top of their tiny lungs, no matter what wiles their internet-surfing parents tried, and now they are scarred towards books, libraries and the 'No Shh Zone'. And because of the tangent the author just indulged in, you, poor reader, will be unable to find out what else Caitlin found dumbfounding . . .for the writer cannot recall what it was for she is still comtemplating angry babies and the illiteracy of America's young people. Not to mention that she needs to read about the scientific method for the nine-hundred eighty-six thousandth time in her ife.