Hi, What's Your Major?

Being in college I get this question a lot. . . like at least once a day.  And I’ve started to notice a trend here.

Someone says “journalism” and you respond, “Oh, are you hoping to be the next Katie Couric?”

Or, if someone says any of the engineering majors you say, “Wow, that sounds really hard, you must be so smart.  Plus, you’ll never have to worry about job opportunities.”

Or, maybe you get someone artsy and they say, “Oh, I’m a theater major” and you go, “Wow, that sounds so fun!  I wish I was good at acting.”

But when someone asks me my major and I respond, “math” (or mathematics if I’m trying to sound especially smart) they just look at me.  And after a few minutes of contemplation they say, “Math, huh?  So, then do you like want to be a math teacher?”

And it doesn’t matter how I respond at this point because they are now comparing me to all of their past math teachers - their 3rd grade teacher who gave them a “Needs Improvement” on their report card, their 7th grade teacher who started class by saying they would have homework every day, their sophomore geometry teacher who used words that didn’t make any sense like sine (also spelled “sin”, which is really what math is), tangent (what the freak does that even mean?) and slope (y/x or x/y?)  And then finally they make it to their senior year teacher who realized that they had all already given up and decided to give up too.

And then they look back at me (not even realizing I said I have no intention of being a math teacher) and say, “Well, cool.  I hate math.”  And then we awkwardly stand there looking at each other before they say, “Well, I gotta go, but have fun, ya know, doing math problems and stuff.”

But that’s cool, because if someone can’t appreciate the joy I get out of spending my Friday nights practicing derivatives and integrals then quite frankly my dear, I don’t give a d***. 

So here’s my advice for those of you who don’t know how to respond when someone says they’re a math major.  All you have to do is say, “Wow I’m sorry, but it’s cool that you actually enjoy math.”

Because we all understand we’re crazy and we have no intention of actually having fun during our undergraduate years.  But the thing is, we enjoy math.  And when you start a conversation with “I hate math” there’s really not anywhere for us to go from there, because it would sound really weird if we were like, “Oh yeah, me too.  Math sucks, that’s why it’s my major.”

So, please don’t compare me to your previous math teachers - I’m already concerned enough by the similarities I see in myself.  And please don’t say you hate math, it’s just a conversation killer.  Either joke about all the better majors I could have chosen or quickly move on to a new topic.  I for one would greatly appreciate it.

You Are What You Eat

You know those days when you wake up and from the get-go everything seems to just go wrong?  Today was not one of those days.  I woke up and actually felt like today was going to be a really great day.  In fact, I had so much extra time this morning I watched a whole movie.  And then things started to go downhill. . .

And it started with a cookie.  A week-old Subway Chocolate Chip Cookie to be exact.  There it was, just sitting on my desk, and I thought, “Wow, that would make a great breakfast.”  So I heated it up in my microwave (to soften it; it was quite hard after sitting out all week) and then ate it.  It was very stale and not very good, but who was I to waste a once-upon-a-time-good cookie?

Well, as you can imagine, that cookie did not fill me up as much as I thought it would.  So I decided to have a bowl of cereal.  Sadly, the only cereal I have right now is also very stale.  Ergo, my breakfast consisted of a stale cookie and stale cereal.

And that’s how my day started.  Rather stale.  My first class was very boring and I wasn’t really looking forward to the rest of my stale day.

Luckily, my math teacher brought us cookies today.  Un-stale cookies that were quite delicious.  Which was a good thing, too, because we all had recently failed our group homework assignment, and that was her way of breaking the news to us gently.  And you know what?  It totally worked!  I mean, I was slightly worried about not doing well on the homework, but the joy of a good cookie pretty much canceled out that feeling.

Fast-forward a couple of hours and I’m starting to get hungry.  Stale cereal and cookies are just not part of a balanced breakfast.  Sadly, there was no time to eat until I went to work, where I got some trail mix from the cupboard of food.  And then things got a little nutty.  I was having a hard time focusing on anything other than my stomach and my uncontrollable thoughts went from hungry, need to work, ooh, 5 minutes have passed, so fast I was having a hard time keeping up.

It’s now almost 9:00 and I’m no longer entertained by the fact that I have not had a chance to eat anything real all day.  The good news is that I have chicken enchiladas in my oven right now (and we all know how much I love those things), so life is looking up again.  Thank goodness for chicken enchiladas.

Overheard: I Remember When Math Was Fun

I was sitting in math class today when I heard someone reminiscing on the good ol’ days, back when math was fun.  It reminded me of a time when I thought math was fun too. . .

* * * Flashback * * *

It was my freshman year of college, first semester.  I had just had a particularly fun time in math class before riding my bike back to my apartment.  I was locking it up when a fellow resident of my apartment complex came up and started talking to me.  Being college students, the first thing he asked me was, “What’s your major?”  I responded with a bright smile “Math!”  And then he looked me over and said, “You know, math’s a pretty hard major.  Most people end up giving up because they can’t handle it.”  I un-cleverly responded, “Oh.”

But I’ve thought a lot about that conversation.  Mostly when I’ve had a particularly rough day in math class.  And this is what I should have said to my unbelieving fellow math major.

Yes, I may be a small, white girl who looks much too awesome to be a math major, but let me just tell you that I am the most stubborn person that ever existed.  You just wait and see, and in four years I’m going to hold my math diploma high in the air and say, “WHAT NOW PERSON WHO SAID I COULDN’T DO THIS?!”

And that’s what keeps me going through math tests that are much to difficult to finish, through homework assignments I don’t understand that keep me up late at night, and teachers who really have no idea how to teach.  So, thank you person who’s name I don’t remember.  There are many times I could have switched to a major I might have actually enjoyed, or one that would provide me with some sort of career opportunity that did not require an additional 5 years of Math Grad School, and hey, maybe I would have actually had fun in college.  But no, thanks to you I’m going to get my math degree and after shoving it in your imaginary face, I picture our conversation going something like this:

Well, dang.  What the freak am I supposed to do now?

It Doesn't Matter. It's in the Past.

To explain this one, we're going to have to go back in time to my sophomore year of high school. . .

I had a zero hour class with a crazy teacher.  This meant that every day from 6:30 to 7:30 I listened to my teacher yell crazy things at us while the rest of the class slept.

As you can imagine, this can get a little boring after a while, so to amuse myself, I started making a log of all the great one-liners said by my teacher.

One Friday I came home from school, and to my dismay my orange folder with the log was missing.  I tore apart my room looking for it, but I could not find it anywhere.  I felt like Harriet the Spy when everyone finds her journal and she's forced to become a better person.  That weekend was filled with horrible thoughts about what would happen when my teacher found my log.  Was my name in the folder?  I couldn't remember.  And what if he got in front of the class and asked who the bright orange folder belonged to?  Would my easily - guilted conscience force me to raise my hand?  In conclusion, I was terrified to go back to school Monday.

Well, Monday morning came and as I walked into the classroom, I noticed my folder wasn't on any of the desks.  I then checked our lab station, and to my relief, my folder was laying there on the ground.  I quickly picked it up and shoved it into my backpack.

You think that I would have learned my lesson and stopped writing down the funny things people say.  But I didn't.

Fast-forward to the other day in math class when my teacher asks how our exam went.  As everyone nervously looks around at each other, she says, “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter.  It’s in the past, right?”

Wait, did she just quote The Lion King???  In my excitement I quickly scribbled the quote at the top of my paper so I wouldn’t forget it.

We then started working on a proof in partners and my teacher walked around to check our understanding.  As she walked up, she looked down at my paper to check what I had done.  I suddenly realized her quote was just sitting at the top of my paper, and thought, Ooh, awkward. . .  Maybe she didn’t notice, but if she did, I hope it didn’t hurt her feelings.  I was just so excited that someone else quotes Disney movie (whether on purpose or on accident).

Maybe I’ll learn my lesson this time around, and at least be more careful where I store my logs of quotes. . . but I seriously doubt it.  People just say the darndest things.

There's A Reason I'm Not an English Major

I think sometimes math teachers forget they are teaching math students.  Either that, or they just like to use big words to confuse us and convince us they are smarter than we are.  So, being the studious student that I am, I copy down words I don't know as well as their definition.  The only problem is I DON'T KNOW THE DEFINITION.  Hence the being confused part of class.  So what I do is make up definitions that are somewhat-not-at-all-similar to the correct definition.

abirfurcation (n): the part of the book when Dumbledore's brother Aberforth became good and saved the day.

pedagogical (adj): of or relating to dinosaurs.  also (n): a type of dessert that is gross (and sometimes healthy) - ex. Flan is a pedagogical dessert.

hysteresis (n): a thesis written about history

canard (n): a cannoli given with a card or a card given inside a cannoli

freezing (adj): cold to the point past concentration.  see also: Kenna while sitting in math class

Now my only problem is I have absolutely no idea how this all relates to differential equations...

Love the Camera, You're a Tiger

Fun things always seem to happen on the way to math class.

Example 1)

While walking to class, some random stranger walking the opposite direction may make awkward eye contact with you and say, "Pineapple."  But I totally understand how he feels.  I mean, sometimes I'll be driving down the road and yell out my window to unsuspecting pedestrians, "CHICKEN ENCHILADAS!" because I just love them that much.

Example 2)

There is a really photogenic tree I pass on my way to class.  It's so photogenic that every day, without fail, there is a cameraman sitting next to it, just waiting for the tree to do something really awesome.  On really good days girls will come and pose with the tree, because it just looks that good.  Today, for example, there was a girl posing with the tree... you know, that typical 4th grade picture we all own where you're hugging a fake tree.  It's like that, except the tree is real.  So anyway, it was while I was passing this tree, thinking how excited I was to get to math class, when the photographer says, "Love the camera, you're a tiger!"

So remember everyone, whenever you pass by a really good looking tree, watch out, it just might be a tiger.

It All Started in Math Class...

Once upon a day I was sitting in math class - not paying attention - when I was hit with a brilliant idea: I should sell my math notes.  Not because they're particularly helpful or I am especially bright, but because they are funny.  I continued thinking about it, and realized I would have a hard time selling them to students in the class [who already take their own actually helpful notes] because our teacher posts all of his power points online.  Then I thought maybe I could just compile them into some sort of book and trick the general public into buying my notes, but I realized that no one in their right mind would want to read a book about differential equations that will teach them absolutely nothing about differential equations.

I started to get a little discouraged.  My poor notes were just left sitting in a binder and no one (except myself) got to enjoy them.  Enter older sister whose ideas I enjoy stealing.  You see, it was her original idea to write the blog, and following the proof below, you can see that it is a good idea.

Proof:

Assume x is a student of some math class.

[a) always start by assuming something b) I am ‘x’.  You may refer to me as Agent X.  Or 0010. Or just X, it’s up to you]

⇒ x will take notes

[arrow thing means “this implies”... don’t you feel smarter already?]

⇒ x’s notes will be boring

⇒ x will get sick of writing boring notes

⇒ x will start writing funny notes

⇒ x will want to share said notes with anyone who gets trapped into reading them before they realize they are reading about math

⇒ x’s sister will suggest a blog

blog = trapping method for unsuspecting victims (by definition of blog)

[it’s always a good idea to throw in some definitions as justification for your proof]

⇒ blog = good idea

And that is how this blog came to be.