The letter of the day is C

Today, class, we will be focusing on the letter C, as in Confusing. Our studies will be centered around unlearning everything you already know about school. We will begin with the essay. The essay, as you all know, consists of an Introduction, a Body, and a Conclusion in five paragraphs. Well, even though this is what you have practiced since first grade, it no longer applies. You are to "stretch your abilities" to write without a rigid structure. M'kay? Also, the forbidden temple of Wikipedia is now an all-access arena. Are we all on the same page now? Good.

Ashley and I had our first cleaning check on Thursday. Growing up, I would've rather not moved around as much as we did, but by doing so, I did learn how to make a room look show-perfect. Thanks to my mother and to Fly-Lady, I can whip-clean a room in about 15 minutes using only baby wipes, tissues, and H2O.

The amount of dust that can accumulate on a storage shelf over the period of a few months is astounding. Dust, consisting of tiny skin and hair flakes, is nothing more than a collection of microscopic body parts. Sleep on that.

In Psychology 111, our professor read us an extensive list of words with definitions (that may not have clearly applied to those words) at the beginning of class. We were instructed to remember them without writing them down. I was skeptical of our abilities to do so. At the end of the class session, he read aloud the definitions of the words, and we would reply with the corresponding word. I think I got all but two correct. "Think about that over the weekend," he said. So, I did. I was reading part of our assigned chapters later that day in my room when I realized that we had effectively participated in a demonstration of "chunking". This is the memory process that allows us to remember multiple items at once by dividing them into related groups. Because of chunking, telephone numbers are easy to memorize. I couldn't believe the fact that I had read information from a book, used it in class, and connected the two applications to come to a conclusion about the subject. So... I learned in college. I'll be darned.

Had dinner at Legends Grille with my peer mentor this week. The food was not spectacular, and the "big-screen TV" aspect did not phase me; I don't watch football. But it was a good chance to think about something other than homework. Later that night, after I had met with my Dinosaurs group to finish our cladogram (dinosaur genealogy based on acquired characteristics, not lineage), I sat and talked with Liesl and her friend, Kika (a journalism major) for a good 30 minutes. Then I walked home. I felt, for the first obviously recognizable time, like an adult.

Yesterday, after the Neurology study, I went to Jamba Juice to get a smoothie and a pretzel. The time was all mine. New, slightly uncomfortable, and refreshing. The experience, not the smoothie, for those that were wondering.

At the close of this session, let us consider the words of a great philosopher: "Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?" I think each of us has a subconscious desire to be the one in the pineapple.

The letter of the day is B

Today, class, the letter we will focus on is B, for Baffling. After 12 years of formal education, I just realized that in the typical grading scale, you earn an A, B, C, D, or F. F does not come after D, but it DOES stand for Fail. Logic at it's finest. At BYU, you can earn an A, B, C, D, or E. E does, in fact, come after D, but does not stand for Fail. And thus begins the long list of confusibilities that BYU has presented thus far.

For example: The syllabus. The all-important, holy grail of college upon which every single aspect of the course is reliant. The syllabus is the umbilical cord that connects you to your grade, via a bribe or two to the TA. The professor will hand you a syllabus. You accept it. And your relationship with said professor ends. All you will need to know about the course is on the syllabus, they say. Or is it? When you have a class of 500 students, your only hope is the syllabus (you cannot expect the professor to give you time when 499 other students also need it). So what are we to do about the assignments that were on another mystical document posted under a broken link somewhere in the vaults of BYU's randomly designed website? I have no idea, really.

Well, listen up, you assignments that are not on the syllabus. You can run, you can hide, and chances are, I'm not going to find you. But when you show up after the due date, I cannot promise we will still be "besties" afterward.

The letter of the day is A

Hello, everyone. The letter of the day is A, for Awesome. As in "this blog is Awesome." Let's establish a few things... I enjoy college. I like waking up at 8:30 am. I enjoy writing my schedule for the day down in my little planner I bought with my own money. I threw away the receipt, and it felt good. I like the little paper lanterns hanging above my desk, and I like my roommate Ashley. I like setting appointments and I like eating at the Cougar Eat if I don't have time to go back home. I like saying no and I like going outside to sit in the sun because our air conditioner is rather chilly. I do not like the spinning feeling I get when I try to match up all 7 syllabi. Oh well. I have no one to please but myself. That makes up for it.

The day began with regional Stake Conference. There were half a million LDS people at the Mariott Center this morning to hear from Elder Snow, Elder Holland, Sister Beck, and President Packer. 'Twas delightful, I must say, to hear so many messages addressed directly to me. President Packer is a very funny man. Occasionally he would just start cracking up during his story about a young Elder Bednar. You know, it's comforting to see that General Authorities have a sense of humor. When you only see them twice a year, they don't have a lot of time for jokes. BYU allows them to relax and laugh a bit.

This evening, we heard from Elder Richard G. Scott at our CES Young Adult fireside. I'm a young adult, so I went to the fireside. It's fascinating the way things work out in life. At age 15, you are so close to being able to date that it's embarrassing to admit your age, because adults always say something stupid like, "Wow, almost old enough to date, huh? Are you just SO excited?" Well, I was, until you killed it with your dumb question. When you turn 16, dating becomes legal, but it's still sort of taboo because "you cannot get serious in any way shape or form", so honestly I didn't see a reason to get very involved with the whole shebang at that point. You turn 17, and prepare to finish High School. Many of your lifelong friends prepare for missions. At this point, you realize it was a pretty good idea not to get serious, because a long-distance relationship at college is like going on a diet... at Krispy Kreme. You turn 18, and now the same adults ask you more of their questions: "You're going to college? Aren't you just SO excited?" Uh. Huh. Now you move in, drudge through the shock, and buy the rest of your textbooks that weren't on the syllabus but are "required" for the one essay at the end of the year. Cool beans. And what do you know? The adults are now your friends. They ask a new question: "Are you engaged yet?" ...I'm sorry? But you just said (seriously, a second ago) "DO NOT GET SERIOUS IN DATING UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE BECAUSE YOU WILL BE CURSED WITH LICE AND FROGS AND FLAT TIRES IF YOU DO." There is no transition. Don't date turns instantly into Get married. Now. Have you ever seen a train running at full speed try to slow down before hitting a wall 100 feet in front of it? I am in college, and there are bricks scattered everywhere. You can ignore it when the question comes from obnoxious people in other wards who have a friend who knew somebody whose cousin went to BYU one time and got engaged. You cannot ignore it when Elder Richard G. Scott tells you to buckle down and DATE. So... Who's up for ice cream tomorrow night?