To an old friend

Dear Hoodie,
Oh, how I have missed you. Your smooth, cozy, goodness knows no bounds. These many long months, I have longed to feel your fleecey goodness envelope my frame in a cocoon of warmth and snuggage.
I know your pouch pooches in the most unflattering way, but it keeps my hands so cozy warm on those frigid chilled-to-the-bone days.I know your shapeless form masks what precious little feminine shape I have.

I know the bunchage around my neck from your hood is not known to be necessarily becoming to a lady, such as I.

But Hoodie, dear Hoodie, I knew today was the day. I felt the chill in the air as my eyes peeped open this morning. Fall is here.

It's so nice to see you again. Welcome back.

Love,

Me

Impulse control--it's a good thing

For some reason, in the past few weeks, I've been grateful that the inhibition center of my brain is fully functioning. I have these random thoughts that, were it not for my brain putting the brakes on these terrible (but usually funny-to me anyway) ideas, I would be that awkwardly weird classmate/friend/family member that constantly halts the conversation (hey...maybe I already am that person...).

Some real-world examples.

I was sitting in my Perception Psych class and the teacher was droning on about visual systems in various animals. I was trying to pay attention, but found the content of the lecture, the manner of the lecture, and the sequence of the lecture DRY and boring. The professor asked for another example of an animal with extremely keen telescopic vision, and my immediate thought was, "Unicorns." It made me inwardly giggle. And for the rest of class I desperately wanted to answer his questions, any question, with, "Unicorns."

Last night, I was in a Prepping for College Teaching class and the teacher was pontificating on the importance of promoting critical thinking in our students, but acknowledging that sometimes students just don't want to apply themselves and blah blah blah. When she asked, "What would be a good way to instill motivation in your students?" Out of nowhere, my thought was, "Death Threats." (funny, huh? I laughed too...and started thinking of various motivating death threats I could make to college students.)

Thinking about inhibition reminds me of an experience that I had last Christmas at our Church Christmas party. We had met in the basement at a ward member's house and were all sitting around listening to some spiritual talks about the Nativity--Mary, Joseph, the Wise Men, etc. One of them talked about the shepherds. The room was quiet, there was a hush as he talked about the Angel visiting the shepherds in the fields with the flocks. His voice was almost a whisper as he talked about the shepherds who came to kneel before the baby Jesus. And he asked, very sincerely and very poetically, "And what would you do before the baby Jesus?" And, out of nowhere, I thought (in song...), "I'd play my drum for him, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum."

Ha...still makes me laugh. I'm glad I don't have inward impulse control, because then I would never get to have these ridiculous thoughts.

Anyhow, gratitude for impulse control. That's what is on my mind today.

Juxtaposed

So, I recently finished a fantastic little read: Warriors Don't Cry, by Melba Patillo Beals. Melba was one of the "Little Rock Nine" who bravely integrated Little Rock, Arkansas' Central High School in the late 1950's. Her story is one of honesty and bravery in the face of a decision that made her, her friends, and her family very unpopular. It was humbling to reflect on these amazing nine students and the impact their example ultimately had on the world at large. Could they have known the magnitude of what they were doing at the time? I hope that, if they didn't feel it then, that they have since felt the gratitude people such as me feel for the cost they paid to set an amazing example. Truly inspiring. Read it. It will confirm the perspective that we all should just simply be nice to each other. Regardless.

After I finished the book, I needed a new book to read. Gone With the Wind was suggested as I've never read it, and it's a great American love story. Can I tell you that, after having read the story of the Little Rock Nine and the racial injustices they endured for the sacrifice of integration, Margaret Mitchell's depiction of the Slaves on Tara actually made me physically wince? It did.

I'll let you know what I think of the love story part.

What I've been up to

These days, any given night/hour/minute, you can find me here.At my desk, reading, reading, reading. This semester, I have ladled oodles of new information into the pot that is my brain, and for now it just feels like a pile of gloppy mush sloshing around my noggin. Concepts flitting about in the space between my ears longing to spill out and be forgotten forever. But I hope that, in time, I will make sense of latent trait analyses, lexical restructuring models and the motor theory of speech perception. I hope that, in time, I will be able to awe my peers and superiors with my organized brilliance and insight. I will wow the scientific community with groundbreaking theoretical models and processes.

Someday.

For now, I just read. And read. And read.