Friday, September 30, 2011
Quick, harmless fact:
As well as I do in English (straight A's since the 1st grade, muthafucka), that's how horribly I do in math (straight D's & F's since...birth).
It's like my brain shuts off when someone brings numbers into a conversation & I can't switch it back on.
I don't believe in ADD, by the way.
If you truly have a passion to do something, your brain won't stop you from doing it.
It's when your mind knows you don't give a fuck that it peaces out on you.
So, I went to my advisor the other day & told him about my little issue that I'm having with this math class I'm taking.
Basically, I don't understand shit.
He took me down to this little room where there's a math tutor who stays there all day to help students with their assignments.
Pretty awesome, huh?
So, I took my little behind down there today, so the dude could help me with this project I had due...in less than an hour.
Basically the project entailed me "buying" a house anywhere in the world (I chose Brooklyn, NY) & figuring up all the intrest, loans, down payments, insurance, etc.
All that bullshit.
I walked in that little study room like a ray of fucking sunshine & left like a raincloud.
First off, as soon as I sat down at the table, I noticed everyone in the room, including the cute guy next to me, was doing pre-calculus.
I sat down with my little sheet & proceeded to raise my hand every 3 seconds so the tutor could help me with, you know, every single problem.
At one point, the guy next to me called the tutor over to help him, & the shit he was doing confused the fucking tutor.
They stayed on that one problem for at least 15 minutes until they finally figured it out.
Then the guy looked at me, leaned back in his chair, & started stretching.
He was all:
"That's some Delta shit. That means it's a fraction, on top of a fraction, on top of a fraction. That took a whole fucking page."
If he hadn't have been kind of sexy, I would've punched him right in his stomach.
Thanks for making me feel like a dumbass because I can't figure out what 2+2 is, nevermind the fact I don't even know where I put my calculator.
On the real, though, he was kind of inspiring.
He was maybe a couple years older than me & obviously very bright.
He wasn't bragging to me about the math he was doing.
In fact, he was talking to himself more than anything the whole time we were in there.
I was really impressed with him, I have to say, & it made me want to work harder in math & try to understand things on a better level.
Well, I got to math, handed in my project & proceeded to, once again, shut the fuck down.
I. Just. Can't. Do. It. With. Math.
The whole time the teacher was talking about the metric system, I was thinking about how amazing Calle 13 is & how sexy Immortal Technique is & what I was going to do when I got home & ways to convince Shia LaBeouf to marry me.
In my mind, the only thing I was born to do is write.
Why the fuck do I need to know the metric system or how to be a loan-shark?
I don't care & I refuse to.
Obviously, I've been trying to get my assignments in & I care that they're done well, but when it comes to class...nope.
Guess that's just the way things are.
This may be the last math class I ever have to take in my academic career, so I'm looking forward to it being over & done with.
Been seeing a lot of people I used to know, both from high school & college, who have just given up on the whole school thing & decided to see the world.
Can't say the jealousy isn't there, but I don't have the money & I've been through enough just trying to get into a college, I don't need to go through all of that again after I'm done playing Magellan (shouts to my History nerds!).
Anyway, I'm gonna hit the sack.
I have an online math quiz due at midnight, but Immortal Technique interviews, the pen & paper, & sleep are currently calling my name.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
In the school library as usual...
Currenly rocking the amazing music of the afore pictured men (that's Calle 13, if you ain't know).
For whatever reason, I've fallen back in love with this group & I've been listening to them NONSTOP for the past month or so.
No shit. I woke up at 4 a.m. this morning just to listen to 'Sin Coro' on repeat.
If Residente doesn't have the sexiest voice on the planet, I can't imagine who does.
Anyway, about the fool I was crushing on in my math class:
Looks like I took just a little bit too long to get my game up.
I really don't think he's deserving of his own alias just yet, but to make things a little bit easier, we'll call him...South.
Homeboy carries a lanyard that has "North Carolina" written all over it.
I've spent the majority of this semester trying to figure out what race this kid is.
Obviously, it doesn't matter what the fuck he is, but if you saw him, you'd understand why I'm so curious.
The man is beautiful.
A really, truly handsome guy.
My best guess?
His mom's latin & his father is white.
That's the only way he could get the world's whitest last name & still be as brown & beautiful as he is.
Yesterday, some hoe walked up to him & started a conversation about our math class that somehow really sparked his interest.
When we all went into class, I sat in the back like the punk I am, & they sat next to each other up front.
The motherfuckers talked throughout the entire class, then left early together.
Up until then, I'd never seen South smile, let alone laugh, but he definitely did a lot of that yesterday.
Now don't get me wrong, I know I don't own this guy.
He's a free man & can flirt with whatever girl he wants, but...fuck.
That was supposed to be mine one day.
I'd gotten up early yesterday to do my hair & makeup.
When I first started college, I told myself I would never show up to school looking like a scrub (i.e. no sweat pants, pajamas, wearing sandals if my feet don't look right, shorts if I haven't shaved my legs).
However, the girl South was talking to yesterday was not only wearing sweats, her hair was a mess & her eyeliner was running.
I don't mean to put this whore down, she is a pretty girl.
I'm just saying, though.
I suddenly felt so self-conscious sitting there with all my makeup & tight jeans & shine-spray in my hair.
I'm slightly more dressed down today in a t-shirt, shorts (yes, I shaved my legs), & less-makeup.
I gotta say, I feel a lot more comfortable than I did yesterday.
I didn't do it to get South's attention.
Nah, fuck that.
That ship has sailed.
I didn't feel like going through the motions of my normal routine today & I was too busy shaking my ass to The Saturdays while getting dressed (I almost fell twice).
Sometimes, I just can't figure how I'm always on the wrong-end of things as far as boys go.
I texted my friend out of frustration when South was talking to his new buddy yesterday, but of course, I got ignored.
So, that's probably one of the main reasons you're hearing about this.
Other than that, I'm waiting for Thursday to roll around so I can talk to my advisor about getting out of this God-forsaken history class I'm in.
None of my classes are going right so far, this semester, but I gotta keep my head up.
At least the whole South situation didn't blow up as badly as DisasterCrush or anything like that.
There's some positivity.
I'll let you go for today.
'Baile De Los Pobres' is just begging to be blasted right now.