I actually get this! 8D

This is going to be a rave sort of entry rather than my usual grumpy complaining. :0 Pay attention, because it’s out of the norm. For me, at least.

Normally when it comes to math I’m an utter failure. I think it’s a really neat subject and I wish I got it, and I do work hard at getting it, but I just don’t. When I have a good teacher I do a little better, but good math teachers? They’re in extremely short supply. I’ve had two in my entire school career. My current one is not among them (although I do like him ‘cause he smiles at me when I come to class and it gives me hope xD).

But lately we’ve been doing derivatives, and I actually get it. *gasp* For once I’m not the stupid one in my study group always asking, “Repeat that to me again? What the heck are you talking about? That doesn’t make any sense at all. Can you just give me the answer so we can move on? DDDx” <-(yes dearies, that’s an emote for showing frustration. I’ve had to explain it too many times. Extra D’s are extra aggravation towards a subject). Instead, they’re all asking me. :0 I sit there and whiz through the problems (well, comparatively, since even though I get them they’re still extremely slow to work) and then they’re all like, “Hey Mary, how do you do this one?” and I can explain it and make sense. Not only that, I explain it, make sense, and they learn from me. Math.

Yes.

I feel so almighty and intelligent.



The other half of this amazing rave entry is that today we went to the hardware store because my mom had to return some screws that were the wrong length, but she forgot the receipt so they needed her ID, which she also didn’t bring (don’t worry, my dad was driving so there was a licensed person getting us down there). My dad had just dropped us off and by then was hidden in the depths of Walmart, finding snacks for him and the boys to eat during Priesthood session.

And lo and behold, my driver’s license was in my pocket! So I whipped that out all dramatic-like and got to sign for the return and all that stuff. Made me feel all special and prepared inside.



But good things can never last, so I have a bit of a rant to throw in too. ‘Cause seriously, if you’re going to be so boorish as to catcall, do it from a respectable vehicle (i.e. manly trucks), not a bike that it looks like you stole from a 6-year-old. You already look dumb when you start shouting things at me, but from a little kid’s bike? No.