Accelerated Adolescence

Some more statistics

Tomorrow I will spend approximately four hours in classrooms where some form of statistics will be discussed. Interestingly, it's Recitation Thursday (a little R&R, if you know what I mean... BLEH!). I'll be reviewing the quiz that students took today in my course. The other classes, I'll be learning statistics. I'm no longer concerned about working with and assisting the students in the secondary level statistics class because I have now had such a thorough review of the basics that I can explain the standard error of the mean to myself (which means that when I explain it to them, they'll stare at me with a look of befuddlement on their unfortunate faces).

On another note, I have a professor who strongly reminds me of Nathan. He's in his mid-thirties, just starting to grey a little in his beard. He carries himself with the same self-assuredness that Nathan has and is so fluent in his area of study that I am often stil processing what he has said a few seconds after he has said it. The most sizable difference between the two is their relative energy levels (you thought I was going to make a pun? To be honest, it would have been fitting:). My professor is so mellow that he probably has to take stimulants to keep his heart rate abover 40 bpm. This professor has also mastered the comedy of the dramatic pause, which makes his humor as dry as stale cornbread.

To give you an example; today I accidentally wandered into his office. In that "accidental" way being, the new PSYC building doesn't have a trash can in every office or classroom. My office is one of the unfortunate (though it does have furniture!). So, I walked into the nearest open door without a conversation going on inside (it was actually Dr. Waller in the middle of a dramatic pause); it happened to be his office. He looked at me and then paused for a while.
I looked at him and paused back.
Then I looked down. and saw that there was a trash can in his office.
We paused together a little more.
As I threw the candy-bar wrapper in the trash he asked me, "Mendon, is there anything I can do for you?"
I paused to watch my wrapper slowly flutter to the soft embrace of the plastic lining.
"No, not really," I finally responded. -PAUSE- "I'm just looking for a trash can."
Slowly a look of confusion came over his face (I'm certain that he was wondering, "what brought you so far afield?").
"I have an office a couple doors down," I explained, "I'm another prof's lackey this semester."
After an Eorish pause he said, "I suppose that lackeys don't merit trashcans."
And, that was pretty much the extent of the conversation.
... Just like Nathan...