Here's another quick and funny high school story:
I was in ninth grade. I was in math class. I hate math. I should not be allowed to do it. Just like you have to get a license to drive, I think you should have to be licensed to do math, and then those of us without a license can leave all the math up to the professionals.
I think this hatred of math started in sixth grade. I did well on one test and my parents and teacher decided I was ready for the advanced math track. So from sixth grade on, I was one of a handful of kids taking the math level above my class. It was awful. For the next few years I was with all these kids that eventually became National Merit Finalists and received full ride scholarship offers to multiple colleges and universities. And then there was me. Stupid, happy she got at least got half credit for showing her work, me. I even had to go to a math tournament. It was the worst day. I never felt as dumb as I did the day I was surrounded by all those "mathletes."
But after junior high they separated the wheat from the chaff and took all the REALLY smart kids, the cream of the math crop, and put them in a math class together. The advanced of the advanced. The rest of us that were on the advanced track but maybe shouldn't have been were still taking the same math as those smarter kids, they just separated us so they wouldn't continue to make us feel stupid. We were mixed into math classes with the kids in the grade above us, while the super smart kids were in a think tank by themselves, also known as "honors math." So while I was taking the advanced math, I was not doing it honorably.
So anyway, we were "learning" about logic, theories and laws, like the Law of Syllogism and the Law of Transitivity. Nothing I had an interest in knowing about. The teacher was writing problems on the board and asking us to say which law or theory the problem used.
To my luck, he wrote an easy one that I knew, which meant I could say the answer and look like I was paying attention and keeping up with the class. I raised my hand. He called on me. "What law is it, Lindsay?"
I was so proud of myself that I almost shouted the answer. "LAW OF THE CONTRACEPTIVE!"
I didn't even realize I said the wrong thing at first. It wasn't until people started snickering and the teacher got a little red that I realized what I said. "I mean, contraPOSITIVE. Law of the contrapositive."
I didn't raise my hand for the rest of the week.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
DUMB
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HAHA! Was that Mr. Farr's class?
ReplyDeleteYes. And G.L. also had Mr. Farr later that day for his math class, and Mr. Farr told him about it and he made fun of me.
ReplyDeleteI think that was the first time I said the word contraceptive in my whole life. How humiliating.
Does that law protect against making little math problems?
ReplyDelete"What?" he replied, tiliting his chin up, raising his eyebrows, and peering over the top of his spectacles. Ah yes, of course, he then proceeded to rub his tongue back and forth over his top front teeth. I can just imagine being in the class with you, Linds. Good ole Mr. Farr. Do you think he still has pink hair??
ReplyDeleteha, no more little math mistakes for lindsay because she uses the law of the contraceptive.
ReplyDeleteAlso, it's possible we knew each other in a previous life when I was on the Math Team at Cullman Middle and Cullman High School. I was the one on stage getting the trophies.
i can beat you. i'm at my mom's wedding and i took a date with me. i was a freshmen in high school. it was out at the botanical gardens in bham. it was either the flowers or pollen or something was bothering her eyes and they were really itchy. we were around a bunch of people at the reception and finally i asked if she would like some VAGISIL!!! TOTALLY MEANT VISINE!! needless to say, we never went out again.
ReplyDeleteOMG Drew that is awful. I don't know who I feel worse for, you or your date. Did someone correct you or did you realize what you said? How did she respond?
ReplyDeleteThat is an amazing story. Thank you for being brave enough to tell it!
And thank you for being brave enough to drop the word Vagisil on my blog. Let's let that be the last time, deal?