For the Love of Math Would You Find a New Hobby

Math. How do you feel about math? Does your stomach tangle in an impossible knot? Do you scream and fling yourself out the nearest window?  Do you look longingly over at that shiny knife laying innocently on your kitchen table? *Glances over at table* "No Gwen, it's not worth it...not worth it..."

Senior year.  I'm ready to kill this bad boy.  It's my destiny.  God created me and told me, "You will hate the math with a fiery passion.  You will lose sleep over the math, it will make you go bald, make you even more mental, make you question your reason for existence, but in the end, you will kill the math."  Hecks yeah I will!  Then I'll never never ever ever have to deal with that hideous beast of a subject again.  It'll be a party in the USA!

Then there's my AP Calc. teacher. Who I find IMPOSSIBLE to relate to.

I swear that woman is having an affair with math. Her poor husband. Unless he knows about this horrendous fiasco... then this whole thing is just sick.  

She has an intense love for the gruesome numbers, the grisly functions, the "finding of the x's" (Something that I never understood why you would want to do. X is a letter.  It should remain a letter.  Now who's the smart-one whose light bulb flickered dimly on one day and said while in a state of sheer, unadulterated boredom, "I think I'll make 'x' represent a number."? Whoever he is, the day he thought up such horrid words he made an enemy for life! That's right Mr. I Ruined Gwen's Life, ya better watch your grave.), the soul sucking sine and cosine, and the mind torturing fractions.  

She LOVES it all.  I don't mean that meaningless I-love-you-but-we've-been-only-dating-for-a-day-and-a-half-so-I'll-end-up-dumping-you-for-my-xbox-instead- kind of love.  This lady, who I am seriously questioning if she is truly from our planet, LOVES math.  Love as in I-want-to-marry-you-and-have-a-sweet-child-and-name-it-Parabola Jr. love.

When she talks about math, she talks faster than the speed of a hummingbird's heart beat (Look it up on Google) and her face turns red and her spit flies- it's sad that I know that, because I sit in the back of the classroom.  

AP Calc. Requirements: a calculator and an umbrella- and some stress snackies.  You know you're all guilty. Don't try to be reserved in saying "I don't binge under stress."  I KNOW YOU DO.

Here's an example of her relentless love for math:  On the first day, a student answered a question correctly in class.  I don't know what he said- I swear he was speaking Swahili (Look that up on Google, too.), but apparently my teacher understood the crazed kid perfectly.  Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she covered her face slightly as she whispered, "That... was beautiful...".  Then, quickly from being in that state, she turns on us and makes her face go red again.  Time to pop open that umbrella...oh snap, it's jammed!

"You are going to OWN THE MATH THIS YEAR! I'm going to make you so ready for that exam that you'll be pooping numbers left and right!!" 

Scratch out that last part.

Do you see what I mean?  Well, maybe you don't.  Maybe you think that I'M the one who needs to seek psychiatric help.  In that case- LEAVE NOW.  Just kidding.  Don't leave. I don't have any friends.  Maybe we can go out for coffee later or go bowling?  Please, anything.  Do you see what I'm doing in my spare time? *Strokes keyboard thoughtfully* This is all I have...

Just kidding. I don't know you.

Granted, yes, she's a math freak, but she's still an extremely kind (and slightly overwhelming) woman who I trust will help me achieve a 4 or higher on my AP test (Unlike my last AP teacher, who I am happy to say will be on her way to the Amazon to make excellent company with a cannibalistic tribe under the impression that she won an all expense free trip to an exotic island---but you didn't hear that from me.).

I will own the math.  It won't bring me down, no, no, it won't bring me down today...I am beautiful in every single way- no matter how fat I'll get over my stress snacking, and how bald I will go from it making me rip my hair out. 

That's all folks.  Signing out of this blog like yeah....

Gwen the Super Hero, over and out.