ALS

I read Tuesdays with Morrie for the first time a few weeks ago. (And found my own copy for a dollar at a thrift store, score.) Obviously I was effectively touched, because reading the biography of the author (conveniently placed at the end of a book about how material things don't matter) meant absolutely nothing to me. It was kind of cool. I have been known to say things like, "Dude, TIGHT" when people tell me they've had concussions or other kinds of neurologic problems. Naturally, I find amyotrophic lateral sclerosis fascinating on paper. Not only does it involve the nervous system (which I love) but it also often affects speech (which is what I'll be doing with the rest of my life). But in real life, this disease is terrifying. Your neurons just die. No cause has been discovered, nor is there a surefire method of diagnosis. But as a future speech-language pathologist who wants to work with patients that have neurologic disorders, I am grateful that I have a grounded belief in something beyond this life. If I didn't, I'd probably cry every day of working with patients. I probably still will anyways. Don't judge me.

japanese noodles, graduation, and nice notes.

There comes a time in your life when you realize that all the answers are not on the World Wide Web, nor are they even in existence. I reached that point this week. Note to self: it's very difficult to do a research paper when there is not enough research on a desired subject. Obviously, I'm going into the right field. The subject of research for the week is stop closures. (Can you tell I'm in love with this stuff?) Think about someone who stutters. (We call this "disfluency.") Have you ever noticed that this person might have abnormally long pauses in between consonants? Say the word "udon." (This is a type of Japanese noodle. It tastes delicious with teriyaki sauce.) The sound /d/ is what we call a "stop." This means that there is a stop to the flow of air when you make this sound. Try it. Feel how your tongue pushed up against the roof of your mouth? (This is the alveolar ridge.) Feel how the air stops flowing out? You've just constricted your airway to form the pressure required to create a burst of air that inevitably comes with correctly phonating the sound /d/. Now place your hand in front of your mouth while saying the word "udon." (If you're hungry at this point, you can pick up some udon noodles at your local grocery store or make a little trip up to Doc Chey's in Atlanta.) Feel how the air seems to stop when you say the /d/? Try it a little more slowly. Isn't this the coolest thing ever? (If you don't think so, you are obviously cut out for much different things than I am.) Anyways, there are only 39 results for "disfluency" and "stop closure" in my library database, and I'll bet at least half of them are nowhere near what I want more information on. I feel like I am moving up in the world now that I can beat the system.

In other news, I am graduating from an unspecified university in an unspecified month in about 6 weeks from now. Yesterday I went to speak with one of my professors about his research and my plans to earn a doctorate degree. He was ecstatic. (Good sign, right? Hopefully he will be willing to write me a good letter of recommendation despite my slightly sub-par grades.) There you have it. I plan to get my PhD by the age of 27 and go on to change the world, one stop closure at a time.

Finally, as per my mother's request, I will explain the concept of "nice notes" to the rest of you out in cyberspace who do not have the lovely pleasure of living inside what we affectionately call "The Bubble." A "nice note" is a note of niceties (or other sentiments) written during a weekly church meeting and handed out afterwards be a specified committee to the person to whom it is addressed. They can be anonymous and can really say whatever you'd like them to say. (But I have to admit, my attempts at anonymity have been failing recently.) A few of my favorites have said things like "I've been to your house" or "you bring pain to my heart every time I try to invite you to do something." Breaking hearts since '92. But still writing nice notes.

this is summer...

...where I respond to names like "Boudreau" and "Banan." This is summer, where I spend my nights playing the piano while my family tries to sing along. This is summer, where at any time I have at least 3 Wikipedia tabs open on my computer, along with at least one Google Doc on something new I am trying to learn. This is summer, where I can't tell you that I've wasted any time, but when asked what I did with my day, I really don't have an answer. This is summer, where I memorize things like airport codes and flower names. Where I drive barefoot. Where my hair sometimes resembles a lion's mane. Where I watch Disney movies with my brothers. Where I cook chicken and rice and steak and potatoes and make snow cones and brownies and ice cream and cake. This is summer.

your weekend is probably much better than mine.

I have a confession: I can't really think right now. My roommate is talking animatedly in Russian on the couch next to me, and I'm popping cough drops in my mouth that say things like, "Push on!" or "Don't give up on yourself!" approximately every 4 minutes and 16 seconds. Needless to say, I have been sitting in the same spot for the last 40 minutes and have done the following:

- felt my head for a fever
- popped a cough drop
- looked at a list of things I should be doing this weekend
- popped a cough drop
- logged into Facebook and logged out because it's unproductive
- popped a cough drop
- read the blogs of people with lives much more interesting than mine
- popped a cough drop

At least I had the good sense to fix my hair and do my makeup so it could be wasted on my computer screen. Happy Saturday, folks.

karma.

For some reason I seem to have gotten it in my head that blessings are limited—that I am only allotted a small portion of good karma for each day, and that said karma will only come a. when I am feeling at my lowest, or b. to buoy me up right before something terrible happens. I'd really like to believe that this is not the case.

As I walking to campus today, I took a strange route. While on said strange route, I passed a guy in a pink shirt, who, upon seeing me, promptly stopped, looked me straight in the eye, and said, "Have a great day." Here's the thing. I think that deep down, it is imbedded in my nature to accept the good things that happen to me, because my immediate response was a sincere "thank you." This surprised me, to be honest. I wondered where the thoughts were that questioned this nicety, or that asked, "Wow, do I just look that hideous today?" They weren't there. So here's to the belief that good things happen all the time, and they are the result of some greater power simply trying to give us all a reason to smile, whether we think we need it or not. Good things are not conditional. (This is important for those of us who have a tendency to doubt themselves, such as yours truly.) Good things are not limited. Good things are abundant, and they are all around us. So start looking for them today (if you haven't already), and enjoy.

search bar lately II.

"asha loan forgiveness"
"duke vs. miami" (Obviously this is old since they're both out of the tournament. Not that I'm mad or anything.)
"veins in the arm"
"munificence"
"stanford university"
"leaf phoenix"
"hide and seek" 

scarred.

So today I was in the student center just eating a lovely salad with a friend of mine. And I heard some freshman boys whispering about something. So I looked. And there, at a table not 20 feet from mine, was a couple. Their chairs were about a foot from each other. And it looked like he was trying to swallow her face. And she liked it. Scarred. For life. Never letting another man touch me. Just kidding. Kind of.

For a visual, please watch the following:

obligatory post about snow.

The only shoes I trust to get me through this mess.

an update.

To those of you who are biting your nails with concern about my health, I gave up on the diet about 20 hours after deciding to do it. No adverse effects.

In other news, I am wearing sweatpants to school for the first time ever since my freshman year of high school. This is due to the fact that 1. my feet are killing me from skating last night and you just don't wear these tennis shoes with jeans, and 2. I have a bruise on my hip from falling (for the first time ever) and really don't want denim rubbing up against it. With that being said, here's to Casual Friday.

probably just symptoms of hypochondria.

So. Saturday night I had an episode. An episode typically involves me eating who-the-heck-knows-what and then being completely incapacitated on account of nausea, headache, the shakes,  a sudden drop in body temperature, etc. The usual. In order to figure out what exactly the who-the-heck-knows-what is, this week I am gluten-free, lactose-free, and peanut-butter-free. So here I sit, eating my breakfast of eggs mashed up with cut-up pieces of turkey jerky and spinach leaves. In the microwave, my lunch of a single chicken breast is defrosting. For dinner, I will have an apple. Joy. Whatever you do, don't let me eat a cookie.