At Least I’m Amused Archive


Posted October 19, 2015 By kmarrs

So in the past 2 weeks, I’ve taken 2 major tests.  One for stats and one for algebra.

In stats I managed a 97% that I’m very happy with.  My score for the class thus far is 98.26%.  I don’t see that shifting much.  I mean, it might go down a few point maybe, but in general I understand the material well enough.  So it’ll be stupid mistakes on tests that catch me up, if anything.

In stats I managed a 115/115.  Here is how that breaks down: 107 from the test, 2 points bonus (there was a bonus question on the test for extra credit) and 6 points “extra”.  So I had a feeling, but I emailed my professor about those 6 points, to see where they came from.  Well they, and I quote “came from [me]. Just say thanks and take a nap.”  Heh.  This professor and I have an interesting relationship.  She knows I’m openly trying really really hard and I am exhausted with the workload of 2 math classes.  She knows I’m being bullied by a classmate and used by the rest.  She herself is being bullied by the same bully.  She knows the bully is also cheating, but she can’t prove it.  I’m helping her there.  She knows I’m going to have to work my ass off to keep an A.  I was at a 90.17% before the test, but now I’m up to a 94.90%.  Honestly, I think she wanted to give me a perfect score because the entire class, in a not so friendly tone, was assuming I was getting it anyway.  I couldn’t be happier about that 100% if I had earned it the old-fashioned way.  Even so, it wasn’t handed over for nothing.  I did earn it.  Just not in the more obvious way.

I really could use that nap.  I only have half the homework load this week, thanks to the stats test being an in class test.  But I want to spend some time going over old material just to be sure I’ve really got it.  I’m not as confident as I’d like to be.  I did technically like 8 points, after all.


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It’s a Metaphor

Posted September 21, 2015 By kmarrs

Have you ever just known you were solving a math problem wrong but you were so far in you just had to see where it took you just incase, but 10 minutes later you’ve confirmed it had to have been wrong all along? Oh, and you’re not sure when exactly it went wrong?  Sometimes you have all the skills but you just don’t know when or how to use them.  Sometimes you had the skills but that was like a decade ago, and best of luck with that.  Sometimes you never had the math skills, the individual how-tos and you’re just plain stuck.  Sometimes even with all the skills math still throws radicals, insane fractions, and irrationals your way.  It’s all mathematically correct, but it makes zero sense and is just a mess.

Also: this can all be a metaphor for life and suddenly you can relate to my math struggles.

Ah well. I’m going to try isolating the other radical and see what happens.

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This Is Not A Real Post

Posted September 4, 2015 By kmarrs

Pumpkin spice is gross.  Really.  Really.  Gross.

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Musings of A Psych Patient Part 2

Posted August 24, 2015 By kmarrs

The psych ward is an interesting, albeit inappropriate, place to play “guess the diagnosis.  The first person I diagnosed basically handed it to me on a silver platter within hours of being there.  I confirmed it with her later.  But then when her friend picked up on my neat trick, he wanted me to guess his next.  His was a touch harder, but I asked the right questions and figured it out.  I also explained what it all meant to him since no one had bothered to do that.  From there it was all speculation as I didn’t go around confirming, but it kept us entertained for a bit.

I suppose that’s one way to pass time in a psych ward.

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FeelingShameSo there is this guy who works at the gas station down the street that is really nice and seems pretty cool and laid back.  I’m hella interested into getting to know him as a person, and maybe pursuing a friendship.  Now, he’s married but so am I, and that’s ok because all I want into is his head.  (No really, I’m asexual.)

The problem is I’m socially awkward.  I’m also an odd duck, which is a nice way of saying I’m a bit weird or out there.

So today, since we had a bit of a conversation going, I asked him if he reads for fun.  He said yes, and named Harry Potter.  So I’m taking this to mean he doesn’t inhale books like I do, but he does know a good contemporary when he comes across one.  I nodded to myself and ran back home, I forgot something vital anyway, and figured I’d grab a copy of Siddhartha while I was there and give it to him when I passed back by his work, on my way to the store.

Why Siddhartha?  It’s my favorite book.  And as it’s not expensive, I tend to keep multiple copies around so I can give them to random people.  First of all, everyone who reads it gets something from it.  Something meaningful.  I got a strong grasp of spirituality, I think this guy will find some peace and quiet within it.  I also test people with this book.  I’m not testing what you get out of it.  That book is a personal journey and I can’t judge your experience based on mine.  You don’t even have to like the book.  Different strokes, different folks.  I honestly don’t even care if you read it.  I’ve been handed books that I’ll get to eventually but other books crop up first.  No, what I judge you on is your reaction to being handed the book.  See this is a “can we be best friends” test.  If you’re generally receptive to being handed a book, we stand a chance.  If you’re excited, especially after I have explained why this book, hello new best friend.  If you think I’m weird for handing you a book and/or treat it like it has cooties, we don’t stand a chance.

Well, I don’t know his true reaction because I literally threw it at him and ran.

See, I had worked up the courage to hand him the book, after the initial courage to ask him if he reads, and that was about it.  I was highly worried he’d think I was a freak.  I wasn’t prepared for him to actually be busy so not wanting to interrupt, and not wanting to stand and wait my turn in case I lost my nerve, I simply dropped it on the counter next to him, there was a note inside, and was back out the door.  Only, as I’m leaving, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it start flying across the counter headed towards the floor, because apparently this socially awkward, odd duck was less than gentle and didn’t simply place it on the counter.

Not knowing what to do in this situation, I did the only reasonable thing I could think of and ran, not making eye contact with anyone.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is simply me trying to make a friend.  You should see me when I’m actually trying to flirt.

So anyway, I went about my errands and spent that hour or so formulating in my head what to say to him, since I knew I had to go back, unable to leave it at that.  I needed to save face as much as possible as quickly as possible.

So I did my shopping and went back.

He was standing outside on his smoke break when I got back to the gas station an hour later.  I don’t know exactly what I said but it started out to the tune of apologizing for throwing the book, explaining that I’m a socially awkward odd duck (he laughed but not meanly), that was afraid he’d consider a freak,  and that I had kind of panicked.  I went on to explain what I’ve already told you, fine readers, about everyone getting something different out of the book, what I got, and what I thought he might get.  I worked in that I knew he was pretty laid back thanks to my brother-in-law, whom he also knows and is talkative with.  (Said brother-in-law is going to disown me for this stunt.)  So if he was paying attention and not simply praying to himself that I’d go away, he knows I’m married, which also hopefully means he knows this awkward display wasn’t me flirting.  I mentioned I’d like to get to know him, and kind of awkwardly hoped out loud that maybe we could get to be friends.

Then I bought a pepsi off him because at this point the least I could do was give him a sale.

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My Fuzzy Baby!

Posted July 10, 2015 By kmarrs

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