Tuesday, September 16, 2008

And I Call You Cutthroat Bitch, Well, Quod Erat Demonstrandum. And I Speak Latin Because I Don't Try To Hide What An Ass I Am.

This rant is dedicated to two kinds of persons. Extremely opposite persons. The power-crazed bitch and the ridiculously kind knight in shining armor. They both happen to be teachers at my school. And today, they both made me cry. I should probably start from the beginning.

As part of my halfasian culture, my asian mother has always emphasized the importance of math. Nevermind the fact that she herself cannot do half the homework problems I am assigned in math class, being in the highest math lane at school is not just a shiny trophy, it's a must. For example, my mom thought it was a priority for me to learn how to solve systems of equations in third grade. Yeah, I was that kid. Then, in sixth grade, at the prestigious (barf) private allgirls school, my parents decided that the curriculum wasn't stimulating my brain enough, so I got extra work. Anyway. Summary of this paragraph: math=supergood in the asian culture. However, you probably could have deduced this from well.. going to high school.

That's why deciding to drop down from BC Calculus AP to AB Calculus AP was a superbig decision in my household. My dad even said "Oh my god, it's like you are telling us you want a sexchange operation" when I first brought it up. Anyway, after a bit of ranting, I was able to get them to agree that this decision was a good one.

Then I had to get the signature of the main head person type thing of the math department. Can I just take a second to describe this hellish figure of a woman? Yes, of course I can. This is my blog. She's basically the bastard child of Sarah Palin and Professor Umbridge. Except with clumpier mascara. And uglier shoes. And every time she talks to you, she speaks in a super soft kind voice that draws you in, but in actuality she is telling you how badly you fucked up your life and how doesn't it suck when we cannot get the things we want and how she wishes so badly she could help you but you are a terrible person, so she can't? Anyway, apparently I was a sinner because I waited SO LONG (a week) to transfer out of this class and how she could not possibly let me when all of her AB Calculus classes were so ridiculously full. (Except that the BC Calculus class that I am currently in has 4 more people than any of the classes I am trying to switch into.) At this point however, meek little Anan just took the BS and decided to wait until people dropped out of the class she wanted.

Three weeks later. Anan is sort of failing BC Calc and not one but two people have transferred out of said desired class! So of course I ran off to Cutthroat Bitch and seriously I should not have been surprised, but once again, she said I could not transfer in. But that she supposed I could maybe talk to the teacher of the class and see what she thought. The teacher was fine with it. But alas, the next day Cutthroat Bitch would not sign my petition for a schedule change. Apparently, the woman is not aware of the meaning of a WAITING LIST. Between talking to the teacher and talking to Cutthroat Bitch, another student had requested to switch into the very same class and apparently an "awkward situation" was created, where the teacher did not want to pick between two prospective students. Okay hold up. I know who this other student is. She told me if they only let one person in, I could have the spot. Also, HELLO WAITING LISTS EXIST FOR A REASON. SO THESE "AWKWARD" SITUATIONS NEVER BECOME A PROBLEM. Ninnies.

It was at this point where my general aggravation at this woman for legitimately making me feel bad about myself kicked in and the tears started rolling. Okay, I usually never cry. Ever. Unless I'm watching Ice Age. For some reason, that movie gets me every time. I timed it. It took Cutthroat Bitch 3 minutes until she handed me a tissue. It was when she started talking about how "honest" she had been with me throughout this entire process that I kind of had enough and just got up and left.

Anyone who has ever been at high school knows that being seen crying is possibly one of the worst things to have happen at school. You get those fake bitches who never ever talk to you come up and ask really loudly in squeaky voices "WHAT'S WRONGGGGG???" and they add extra syllables to everything. Thank god I did not encounter any of those kind.

It was at this point that I decided to pay my beloved BC Calculus teacher a visit. I can't decide if I want this man to be my father, brother, or husband. There is quite possibly something wrong with me. The second I walked into his room, I knew that visiting him was the right decision. He was sitting in his room alone and the lights were all off and he was blasting some music (really good music actually, I had never heard of it, which therefore reinforces the fact that it was probably good music) and he happily exclaimed "Oh my god, you have caught me rocking out!" to which I wittily replied "-legasp- I thought math teachers just hung out by themselves solving equations in their free time." Okay shut up. I thought it was witty. Anyway, I had been changing my mind on a daily basis of whether or not I was dropping his class so the poor guy had no idea exactly what decision I had made at any given moment. Then I explained to him about Cutthroat Bitch. Now, she's his boss and all so he cannot exactly say anything bad about her, but my god, I could totally tell he knew exactly what I was talking about as I explained her eccentric logic in assigning people to classes.

There exists a rare person who can overwhelm you with his understanding of a situation and at that moment, I started crying again. This was probably because of PMS, the fact that he is kind of a very attractive man, and aftershock of Cutthroat Bitch. I don't even remember what exactly he said but I do know that I walked into that classroom overwrought and emotional and I walked out of that classroom feeling like I could probably kick someone's ass. I mean that in the best way possible.

And now I have to go running. Before I start throwing shiny things at people. Or stuffed animals.

However before I do, the moral of the story is that the world is filled with powercrazed bitches and if you're lucky, you might just find a knight in shining armor of a math teacher.

3 comments:

Bill said...

Latin Sucks... you just went down in my book

Adrio said...

"I can't decide if I want this man to be my father, brother, or husband."

Good thing I'm not a jealous boyfriend.

George Sun said...

go study

stop wasting time blogging

no wonder you failed your test