Yesterday was a bad day. I knew it was going to be a bad day before I got out of bed. I woke up feeling the early symptoms of some lurking illness. It was too early for me to tell if I was getting a cold or the stomach flu. Yes, both have extremely different symptoms, but I really could not tell so I took a shot of orange juice then followed it with a dose of Pepto. As the day progressed I realized that it was in fact a cold. It's 80 degrees here!! How am I getting a cold? Then again, I seem to always get one in the summer so I can't be too shocked.
While I suffered through the day with my pre-cold, I took an in-class exam (aka my first "real" test in graduate school), taught a faux practice lesson in front of my peers, and paid my phone bill. I did not enjoy completing any of those tasks. As if I wasn't feeling low enough, one of my professors handed back a homework that we turned in last week. I did alright, but I was extremely pissed after comparing my grade with a peer that I helped out. His score was significantly better than mine, yet I helped him finish his the day it was turned in. It was due on Friday, but he thought it was due Monday so he came to school with slightly less than half of it complete. After I reminded him it was due that day, he freaked out so I offered to help with all of the problems he did not understand. Apparently, I communicate better orally than in writing.
When I finished at school I went to the store to stock up on different vitamins. As I walked in, it hit me that I was actually chasing the lows and running from the highs. My day wasn't so bad, I was just building it up to be that way. In some sick, twisted way I was making my day worse on purpose. As I walked through the aisles, I realized that it was not the first time that I've chased down the lows. I've done it before, but why? How could I think that I could make myself feel better by making myself feel bad? I hate to say this, but maybe it's a...female thing? My dad always calls it "feeling sorry for myself". He's right. That was what I was doing, but still, why does that make me feel [faux] good? After making myself feel low for most of the day, I decided to finally book my flight home for winter break.
My hypothesis: maybe I make myself feel low so that when I finally knock myself out of it, I feel much better about the things that I thought were crappy in my life prior. Example: I was holding off booking my flight home for winter break because I am having monetary issues. I was unnecessarily stressing myself out by avoiding the issue. After my bought of "Sorryness" yesterday, I finally came to terms with the fact that I needed help with my situation. This morning I woke up feeling boatloads better and as I got out of bed I knew that today was going to be a better day. So far, it has been better. I made a delicious turkey sandwich for lunch today and everyone knows [except for my roomies] how wonderful a delicious turkey sandwich can be. Oh, and I also picked up a student for tutoring. We are starting tomorrow, which means...I can pick up some groceries tomorrow! Yay, I don't have to eat spaghetti for the rest of the week!
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
A Little Anecdote that I Just Remembered
The calculus students that I help have online homework called WebWork. Whenever they have trouble with a problem, they can email the professor and [unbeknownst to them] it's emailed to me too. Well, WebWork can be a little tricky sometimes and it does not accept answers that are not entered in perfectly. Usually the emails are: "Um, Dr. ____, I know the answer to this problem is ___, but WebWork is not accepting it. Will you still give me credit?" His response is usually, "Um no, ____ your answer was wrong. You were missing ___." Anyway, I usually don't read the emails, because [to be completely honest] I don't really care, but today there was a really short one so as I moved the arrow to the big red X to delete it, I read:
Baaaaaaaahahaha! [cricket, cricket, cricket] Ok, ok that's not funny to most of you [if any], but when I read it I pictured the girl on the computer screen handing her homework a pumpkin pie so as to coerce it into accepting her answer.
*Pi [not pie] is a number and it's usually not [if ever] preceded by "a".
Teeheehee. "A pie"...hilarious!!!
Um, Dr. ____ how do I insert a "pie" into WebWork?*
Baaaaaaaahahaha! [cricket, cricket, cricket] Ok, ok that's not funny to most of you [if any], but when I read it I pictured the girl on the computer screen handing her homework a pumpkin pie so as to coerce it into accepting her answer.
*Pi [not pie] is a number and it's usually not [if ever] preceded by "a".
Teeheehee. "A pie"...hilarious!!!
How Many More of These do I Have to Take You Ask...
Test #1 down...I survived. It was a takehome test given to our class (ie 5 students) on Friday. It was not like the Yay Takehome Test Alright!! that we all loved in high school...wait did we get those in high school? I feel like I've been in school for so long that I cannot even correctly place when I did what. Anyway, it was a Son of a Bitch! No Books, No Notes, No Outside Sources Looong, Difficult Test. The rule was once we opened the [stapled closed] test, we could not open a book of any type, talk to anyone [or breathe] until we were done. I decided to take it in my office on Sunday morning [that was a lie. I decided to take it in the school library on Sunday morning, but apparently the school does not like students to study until 1 pm so I was forced to do it in my office]. When I finished I slid it under my professor's door and bolted out of the building.
We got our tests back today and I actually did better than I thought. After two days of picking out all of my mistakes in my head, I figured that I got somewhere around a 75. You can imagine my surprise when I saw the big, bold 77 on the top of the page!! To most, that would sound like a HORRIBLE score, but this is grad school bitches, my 77 was the second highest score [yes, out of 5 people, so what]! When I went to discuss the test with my professor, the best 4 [and a half, one was a contraction] words I've heard in months came out of his mouth, "You're really coming along." I needed that.
I have two more tests this week and then I am finally taking a break on Saturday. I finally caved and agreed to hang out with my fellow mathletes Saturday afternoon. I did not commit to staying for the night as I have yet to see what their idea of fun is. It's going to be tough for them to top my idea of a successful Saturday night...cleaning the house, calling Loverboy and passing out on the couch alone with an empty beer bottle [yes just one] on the coffee table in front of me.
I started running again last week. I'm [FINALLY] going to visit Loverboy in 22 days and I want to be physically fit just in case he happens to see my nakey. I'm slowly starting to realize that it's cheaper to produce my own energy through physical activity than buying Red Bull....slowly, I said. I found out today that one of the kids I've been tutoring transferred to another school and will not need me again until January. There goes my grocery money :( I wish that would have happened about 2 weeks ago. At that time I was getting emailed like crazy from students looking for tutors and silly me, I turned them down. I wonder if it would be weird for me to re-email them and ask if they are still looking. I'm going to do it if it is weird or not...I was just wondering, though.
Fun Fact [everybody take out a pen and paper and write this down]: A prime number greater than 1,000 digits long is called a TITANIC PRIME. To date there are approximately 5,000 certified [aka known] titanic primes.
We got our tests back today and I actually did better than I thought. After two days of picking out all of my mistakes in my head, I figured that I got somewhere around a 75. You can imagine my surprise when I saw the big, bold 77 on the top of the page!! To most, that would sound like a HORRIBLE score, but this is grad school bitches, my 77 was the second highest score [yes, out of 5 people, so what]! When I went to discuss the test with my professor, the best 4 [and a half, one was a contraction] words I've heard in months came out of his mouth, "You're really coming along." I needed that.
I have two more tests this week and then I am finally taking a break on Saturday. I finally caved and agreed to hang out with my fellow mathletes Saturday afternoon. I did not commit to staying for the night as I have yet to see what their idea of fun is. It's going to be tough for them to top my idea of a successful Saturday night...cleaning the house, calling Loverboy and passing out on the couch alone with an empty beer bottle [yes just one] on the coffee table in front of me.
I started running again last week. I'm [FINALLY] going to visit Loverboy in 22 days and I want to be physically fit just in case he happens to see my nakey. I'm slowly starting to realize that it's cheaper to produce my own energy through physical activity than buying Red Bull....slowly, I said. I found out today that one of the kids I've been tutoring transferred to another school and will not need me again until January. There goes my grocery money :( I wish that would have happened about 2 weeks ago. At that time I was getting emailed like crazy from students looking for tutors and silly me, I turned them down. I wonder if it would be weird for me to re-email them and ask if they are still looking. I'm going to do it if it is weird or not...I was just wondering, though.
Fun Fact [everybody take out a pen and paper and write this down]: A prime number greater than 1,000 digits long is called a TITANIC PRIME. To date there are approximately 5,000 certified [aka known] titanic primes.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Three Down....So Many More to Go
Please Note: I tried crossing the following off my To Do list, but I was not allowed to use strike-through: Return phone calls, Answer phone calls, and Listen to messages. I have been doing very well at these tasks [compared to before when I put them on my list]. I deleted them instead. Three tasks down...hooray for me!!
Live, From GA it's Saturday Night!!!
It's Saturday Night, yay....and I'm blogging. I went out last night so I'm not completely socially inept. Going out two nights in a row is so not me. I need the second night to reflect on the "fun" I had the night before. I know I'm young and I should enjoy going out, but I just feel very out of my element when I'm at loud bars with a bunch of people I still barely know.
Last night I went out with Roomie R. We met up with two of her [square] guy friends for a bit while we waited for my fabulous new [gay] best mathematician friend J and his boyfriend. After about 20 minutes at the bar Roomie R's friends ditched us to smoke some awesome stogies and reflect on the terrible time they had with two hot ladies [fyi, that's Roomie R and me]. GFJ (gay-friend J) and I had made plans earlier in the day to celebrate the fact that we finished our homework 15 minutes before class started yesterday. Plus, it was our best work yet and we were proud so we slammed our drinks (mine: a dark beer, his: something mixed with Malibu Rum) and cheered. It was great. I had a boat-load of fun with all of them, but we called it a night around midnight because I was up until about 3 the night before.
Why was up so late? Oh, you know, just getting my nightly exercise rolling around in bed. That's probably why I have such a nice figure. Note: by rolling, I literally mean rolling...no funny business whatsoever [unfortunately]. Speaking of funny business...Loverboy's friends are visiting him this weekend. I'm happy that he's getting some time with the guys, but I am also very jealous of all of them. I'm jealous that he gets to be with old friends and I'm jealous of them for getting to spend so much time with him.
I did my best to not, for lack of a better word, bother him yesterday. I called him once when I got out of class and then before I went out around 10 pm. When he answered, he was clearly at a bar, and all he said was, "Hey, can I call you back later?" I said sure and that was it. Throughout the day, I sent him maybe two text messages, which received no response. No biggie. Then right before I went to bed around 1 am, I sent him one that read, "That was a great talk we had today. Have a good weekend." Ok, ok I probably should have let it slide, but I had a couple drinks in me and I was hurt. I know he rarely gets to be with his friends, but to not call me or respond to me all day and night hurt. He always calls me to tell me he loves me and to say good night, why didn't he last night? It's no secret to his friends that we're in love and that I'm so far away. There was no reason he couldn't slip away for 2 minutes to call me. So yeah, I was pissed.
He called me twice this morning, but I missed both of the calls. When I called him later in the afternoon he apologized right away and all was fine. Then he told me about the parts of the night that he remembered...I thought about worrying for a brief moment and then I remembered that all I can do is trust him. I know how I am when I go out with my friends so I can only hope that he treats the women that come on to him the same way I treat the guys that come on to me...like a happily taken woman...and sometimes a bitch. FYI, if you're a strange guy, don't touch me!
One of Loverboy's friends, Stefan, and his girlfriend recently went on a break. When Loverboy told me earlier this week, he was so outraged by the idea of a break. He thought it was the silliest thing a couple could do and he compared it to a separation between a married couple. I, on the other hand, did not have as strong of feelings about the idea, until...last night when him and the guys went out, Stefan kissed some girl. So, is a break just another way of saying let's try out other people and see if we like it and if not let's get back together? If that is the case, then why doesn't Stefan suck it up, be a man and tell her that he wants to break up? Yeah, it was her idea to start the break, but if he was any kind of man at all he should have said, "No, let's just finish this and break up." Instead, he's probably going to wait until she finally says it. How silly is that? Answer: Very!
Last night I went out with Roomie R. We met up with two of her [square] guy friends for a bit while we waited for my fabulous new [gay] best mathematician friend J and his boyfriend. After about 20 minutes at the bar Roomie R's friends ditched us to smoke some awesome stogies and reflect on the terrible time they had with two hot ladies [fyi, that's Roomie R and me]. GFJ (gay-friend J) and I had made plans earlier in the day to celebrate the fact that we finished our homework 15 minutes before class started yesterday. Plus, it was our best work yet and we were proud so we slammed our drinks (mine: a dark beer, his: something mixed with Malibu Rum) and cheered. It was great. I had a boat-load of fun with all of them, but we called it a night around midnight because I was up until about 3 the night before.
Why was up so late? Oh, you know, just getting my nightly exercise rolling around in bed. That's probably why I have such a nice figure. Note: by rolling, I literally mean rolling...no funny business whatsoever [unfortunately]. Speaking of funny business...Loverboy's friends are visiting him this weekend. I'm happy that he's getting some time with the guys, but I am also very jealous of all of them. I'm jealous that he gets to be with old friends and I'm jealous of them for getting to spend so much time with him.
I did my best to not, for lack of a better word, bother him yesterday. I called him once when I got out of class and then before I went out around 10 pm. When he answered, he was clearly at a bar, and all he said was, "Hey, can I call you back later?" I said sure and that was it. Throughout the day, I sent him maybe two text messages, which received no response. No biggie. Then right before I went to bed around 1 am, I sent him one that read, "That was a great talk we had today. Have a good weekend." Ok, ok I probably should have let it slide, but I had a couple drinks in me and I was hurt. I know he rarely gets to be with his friends, but to not call me or respond to me all day and night hurt. He always calls me to tell me he loves me and to say good night, why didn't he last night? It's no secret to his friends that we're in love and that I'm so far away. There was no reason he couldn't slip away for 2 minutes to call me. So yeah, I was pissed.
He called me twice this morning, but I missed both of the calls. When I called him later in the afternoon he apologized right away and all was fine. Then he told me about the parts of the night that he remembered...I thought about worrying for a brief moment and then I remembered that all I can do is trust him. I know how I am when I go out with my friends so I can only hope that he treats the women that come on to him the same way I treat the guys that come on to me...like a happily taken woman...and sometimes a bitch. FYI, if you're a strange guy, don't touch me!
One of Loverboy's friends, Stefan, and his girlfriend recently went on a break. When Loverboy told me earlier this week, he was so outraged by the idea of a break. He thought it was the silliest thing a couple could do and he compared it to a separation between a married couple. I, on the other hand, did not have as strong of feelings about the idea, until...last night when him and the guys went out, Stefan kissed some girl. So, is a break just another way of saying let's try out other people and see if we like it and if not let's get back together? If that is the case, then why doesn't Stefan suck it up, be a man and tell her that he wants to break up? Yeah, it was her idea to start the break, but if he was any kind of man at all he should have said, "No, let's just finish this and break up." Instead, he's probably going to wait until she finally says it. How silly is that? Answer: Very!
Friday, September 7, 2007
Finally, I (kinda) Know How to Add
While talking to my mom the other day, I noticed she was trying to hint that her and my dad might not be home for Thanksgiving this year. Her hint: "...work won't be too busy in November...your dad has business trips that month...I'll probably go with...so we might not be home for Thanksgiving." She's very subtle. Of course she decided to tell me this after I told her that I have Wed-Fri of school that week so I could actually fly home Tuesday night. Bubble burster. Later that night, after telling Loverboy and my roomies about my disappointment, they all invited me to their families' Thanksgiving celebrations. My frown turned upside down...temporarily. It's a little Catch-22 (one of Loverboy's favorite books, I personally dislike it) situation: if I go to Loverboy's parents house, my mom might get a little jealous; if I celebrate with one of my roomies, the other might get jealous; if I stay home...alone, I will be sad. Then I thought, maybe we could have something at our house. Yeah, we should have something at our house...I wonder if there is turkey flavored tofu. That is my worst idea ever!!! Celebrating Thanksgiving with vegetarians?!?!?! What is wrong with me?!?!?! Luckily Thanksgiving is over 2 months away so I have time to let everyone (other than the lucky family that gets to sit across from me at the dinner table) down slowly.
Speaking of me having silly thoughts...Yesterday, during my second calculus recitation, I was working a problem out on the board when the following happened:
(a little backstory) I work out all of the students' homework problems before the recitations so I am "prepared" for their questions. I have access to the answers to each problem, but I have to work them out myself (which isn't bad because I've been doing this stuff for years). Now to the story...there was one problem on the homework that I worked out several different ways and kept getting the same answer that was different than the solution given to me. Of course, the students asked me to work that problem out for them. I decided to be honest with them and I said, I had worked it out several times and I kept getting the wrong answer so I offered to show them what I did and asked that they check my work. They agreed so I wrote it all out and explained my reasoning for each step and I came up the same answer: x+17.
I asked the students if they could find anything wrong with what I did, and nobody could. I then proceeded to stand there for nearly a minute to check again. Then, I looked down at the answer sheet, and read the "correct" answer aloud, "Apparently, the correct answer is 12+x+5. I don't know what I...oh, heh, I know what I did...(under my breath) got this far without learning how to add." Lesson of the day: 12+x+5=x+17!!!!
Speaking of me having silly thoughts...Yesterday, during my second calculus recitation, I was working a problem out on the board when the following happened:
(a little backstory) I work out all of the students' homework problems before the recitations so I am "prepared" for their questions. I have access to the answers to each problem, but I have to work them out myself (which isn't bad because I've been doing this stuff for years). Now to the story...there was one problem on the homework that I worked out several different ways and kept getting the same answer that was different than the solution given to me. Of course, the students asked me to work that problem out for them. I decided to be honest with them and I said, I had worked it out several times and I kept getting the wrong answer so I offered to show them what I did and asked that they check my work. They agreed so I wrote it all out and explained my reasoning for each step and I came up the same answer: x+17.
I asked the students if they could find anything wrong with what I did, and nobody could. I then proceeded to stand there for nearly a minute to check again. Then, I looked down at the answer sheet, and read the "correct" answer aloud, "Apparently, the correct answer is 12+x+5. I don't know what I...oh, heh, I know what I did...(under my breath) got this far without learning how to add." Lesson of the day: 12+x+5=x+17!!!!
Thursday, September 6, 2007
My Grandmother Walks with God...jealous?
Loverboy left two days ago. It just hit me how sad that makes me. We had such a great time together that my joyous state lasted until just now...or I have been trying to keep myself as busy as possible so I could block all thoughts other than the task at hand.
Like I said, we had a great time. We went to a university football game (our first), walked around downtown, had library dates (we're sick, I know), kissed a bunch, held hands, slept in, and sat around together as if it was a normal occurrence. I am NOT enjoying this sitting around along thing. I need to carry a picture of him around with me so I can sit him next to me. I like glancing up everyone now and then and smiling at him.
His flight got in soooo much later than expected last Wednesday. We got home around 1:30 am. Of course, we could not fall asleep without some much needed kissing and cuddling so we didn't get to bed until extremely late [reminder: I like to go to bed around 10:30]. Kissing him felt so weird at first. It didn't feel normal until later in the afternoon of the next day. It was as if we had forgotten how. On top of forgetting what to do, I was nervous. I shouldn't have been, but I had put so much thought into what those kisses would be like and built it up so much in my head that there was no way I could meet my expectations. It turns out he was nervous too. How cute.
I am so proud of myself...I only teared up twice while he was here*. I cried the first night while we were in bed, but they were tears of joy. I looked up at him as he was holding me, right before we fell asleep, and I started crying because it felt so good to be with him again. I cried right before we left for the airport on Tuesday. I received a card from my grandmother that day and I saw it as we were walking out, and silly me, I decided to open it before we left. As I stood in the kitchen reading it aloud for Loverboy and Roomie R, I started sobbing like a basketcase. Honestly, who has cried from reading a card?!?!? This is what it said:
Like I said, we had a great time. We went to a university football game (our first), walked around downtown, had library dates (we're sick, I know), kissed a bunch, held hands, slept in, and sat around together as if it was a normal occurrence. I am NOT enjoying this sitting around along thing. I need to carry a picture of him around with me so I can sit him next to me. I like glancing up everyone now and then and smiling at him.
His flight got in soooo much later than expected last Wednesday. We got home around 1:30 am. Of course, we could not fall asleep without some much needed kissing and cuddling so we didn't get to bed until extremely late [reminder: I like to go to bed around 10:30]. Kissing him felt so weird at first. It didn't feel normal until later in the afternoon of the next day. It was as if we had forgotten how. On top of forgetting what to do, I was nervous. I shouldn't have been, but I had put so much thought into what those kisses would be like and built it up so much in my head that there was no way I could meet my expectations. It turns out he was nervous too. How cute.
I am so proud of myself...I only teared up twice while he was here*. I cried the first night while we were in bed, but they were tears of joy. I looked up at him as he was holding me, right before we fell asleep, and I started crying because it felt so good to be with him again. I cried right before we left for the airport on Tuesday. I received a card from my grandmother that day and I saw it as we were walking out, and silly me, I decided to open it before we left. As I stood in the kitchen reading it aloud for Loverboy and Roomie R, I started sobbing like a basketcase. Honestly, who has cried from reading a card?!?!? This is what it said:
A Walk with God
I walked with God this morning,
at the dawn of a new day,
We walked and talked together
and laughed along the way.
I told Him all my hopes and dreams,
I knew He'd understand
and I felt my worries drift away
with my hand held in His hand.
He smiled and joyous sunshine
seemed to sparkle everywhere...
I walked with God this morning
through the miracle of prayer!
When you feel alone
with your burdens,
remember that God is with you
in every prayer.
I have received 22 years worth of Grandmother cards like the one above and not once did I shed a tear. I don't know of anybody else that has. The card was sent and received at the perfect moment. Usually we send and receive cards during holidays and birthdays so even though we spend time picking them out and thinking about the receiver, all meaning is lost after it's read. This card, however, was sent out of nowhere...it was special and it made me feel special. It wasn't a card sent out to the masses. It wasn't lost amongst all the other cards sent to me (as there were none). It sat all alone, waiting to tell me that somebody was thinking of me.
*And bawled only 3 times on my way home from the airport. I think that's pretty good.
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