to the left, to the left

I shouldn't love it as much as I do, but I do. And when I hear that someone else is, I feel an instant kinship to them. I love when people I've known forever finally notice, as if it was some special trick I've kept hidden from them. It's silly I know, but I love love love being left-handed.

Sure there are disadvantages like the perpetual stain of pencil or ink on your hand or the need to seek out certain "left-handed" desks in a classroom. Oh and then there are things like learning how to crochet–a little tricky when the person teaching you is doing everything with the opposite hand. I bet you didn't know that there are quite a few objects like bunch bowl ladles or scissors that are right-handed. I also blame my lack of coordination on being a lefty. I kick and throw with my right, but with little skill. What was I supposed to do when all the other kids were doing it with that hand? I'd like to think that if I'd learned with my left, I'd be a master (maybe).

But guess what? Being a lefty is the best.  You get special treatment. "Oh sorry, you can't sit there. I'm left-handed; I need to sit on the end." You get special items like left-handed sewing scissors. You have the advantage in sports (not that I would know about that).  Left-handed people are definitely smarter (remember this is my blog). Out of the last 14 presidents, half of them have been left-handed. Significant? I think yes.

And apparently, I would be really great at primitive fighting.


signed,
your little lefty
M

Jealous

Dear Charlotte Brontë,

Want to lend some of your amazing vocabulary to me? Even just for a day? I wish I could throw words around like caprice, piquant, quiescence, assiduous, celerity, or salubrious as if it was no big deal.


your devoted reader,
M


PS if you love the Brontë sisters, you'll love this.

what I really believe

Last week I read this article, part of a regular column Michael Otterson writes for the LDS Church. In the article Otterson relates how church members in Davis County, Utah were asked to help each other clean up debris from a storm and prepare for another one. On that Sunday church was canceled and neighbors gathered to help one another. Otterson describes this as "pure religion" and I couldn't agree more. I am so grateful that I belong to a church that is prudent and practical. Worship is vital to religion, but so is serving and helping the people around you. Acting on principles of faith, love, charity–that is what God put us on this earth together to do. I have never felt closer to people than when I am serving them.

I came home last Friday to find my roommates in the apartment next door. I turned the corner to see why they were there and my eyes met a large puddle (or puddles rather) of water down the hallway, in their kitchen, etc. And there were my roommates with buckets, towels, brooms–ready to get to work. I joined them, sweeping up water (not the most effective tactic, but it did the job). We don't know the girls across the hall as well as we should, but I'd like to think we share something now that is stronger than if we had spent 3 hours talking. I couldn't help but smile as I swept dirty water into a bucket. This is me, living what I believe.

Sunday I found myself among the Christmas books. Every year, no matter what other books I read, I have to include my two favorites at least a few times: The Year of the Perfect Christmas Tree  and Why Christmas Trees Aren't Perfect. It's ironic that their titles are antitheses of each other, because they are essentially about the same thing: giving of yourself when you feel there is nothing to give. I cried as I read how Ruthie's mother, her husband away at war, cut up her wedding dress so Ruthie would have the perfect Angel's dress to wear in the Christmas pageant. I cried as I read of the Queen who saw Small Pine's true heart, that he was more beautiful than all of the other trees because of who he was, not what he looked like. I've read these books hundreds of times, but this time their messages hit me more poignantly than before. More than anything, God wants us to give of ourselves. He wants us to fall, to be vulnerable, to love. When we love others, we love Him with a love deeper and more transcendent than before.


Happy Christmas,
M

the agony and the ecstasy

Eat dark chocolate covered peppermint Joe Joe's and you'll never taste something so wonderful.
Eat dark chocolate covered peppermint Joe Joe's and you'll probably die.



We may or may not have gone through a box in less than 24 hours. Oh dear.

So I decided that

• I should wear red lipstick and ruffles more often. Not necessarily together (although that could be a winning combination). Sometimes it's good to feel extra girly.
• this is the reason why men at BYU are not allowed to have beards:

"Disadvantages of the N-95 masks include the difficulty in ensuring a reliable face-mask seal with each use and impossibility of effective use by bearded individuals"*

Administration just wants to make sure everyone has equal protection from ebola and other VHFs.

• changing the topic of your research paper the day a draft is due is not a smart thing. Changing the topic of your research paper to something that you really don't know how to put into words, is not a smart thing either. However, changing the topic of your research paper to something that is way cooler than your first topic could be a good idea.
• sometimes being too much is not being enough. 
• home-grown potatoes (or pretty much home-grown anything) are way better than store bought.

OK. back to my paper.

M


*Borio, L, et al. "Hemorrhagic Fever Viruses as Biological Weapons." JAMA. Vol. 287: 18. May 2002: 2391-2405.

The solution to every problem

But seriously.
I haven't found a problem that dancing to Tainted Love by Soft Cell couldn't solve. Best. Song. Ever.
It's a life philosophy I've been living for quite some years now and it's served me well. 

Happy finals. Mine will be so much better now that I've danced it out.

M