So yeah. Exciting day in the classroom. I have a preference of saying that the centers of ellipses and circles and the like is at "x sub 1, y sub 1," but others insist that in order to avoid confusion, we should say (h, k). The problem with this is that there's no real reason to associate h and k with x and y, respectively, whereas there's a rather blatant association between, say, x and x sub 1. Of course, being the good trooper I am, I tried to teach the kids the h, k system today, lest they be confused by next year's textbook or something. And I gave them the easy mnemonic that x and y are in alphabetical order, so h and k just correspond to them (h is before k in the alphabet). Of course, a certain wise, let's call him Add-on, points out:
"Hey, K Y! That's easy to remember!"
Most of the class gets it, the more innocent don't. I give him a "I can't work with you people" prima donna style exit, and come back in a couple of seconds with "have we all gotten that out of our system now?" Only another student comes back with he's so funny; you're just jelly," which is the parlance of their times for "jealous." And, guess what, also fits in with the KY joke quite nicely. So multiple students are making KY jokes, sex jokes, etc., and I'm trying to tone them down, and I brilliantly say you guys are putting me in an awkward position," which only gets more laughs, someone else says "yeah, stop giving him a hard time," someone else chimes in with something along the lines of "yeah guys, KY don't we just make this easier for everyone involved," etc., and eventually I just lose it - I mean, really, I can't pretend that I don't get the jokes, and it's just so ridiculous to me that I'm standing up here trying to act mad when really, the jokes are just begging to be told and laughed at. So i start laughing, and I can't stop. Seriously. I start crying. I eventually leave the room with "just do some math or something; I'll be right back." So, a very bad start to the class. I mean, funny, but not exactly education-oriented. I wish I could remember all the ridiculous jokes; I actually was rather proud of the fact that I managed to not say any of the multitude of things that were coming to mind, and managed to keep a semblance of order after my break up. I actually got a little pissed later in the class, as they were continuing on with the clowning atmosphere and not even really trying to pay attention during the rest of class. Then they pulled a prank where after I turned around from writing something on the board, they were all wearing their hooded sweatshirts over their heads. So I told them that for $40,000 a year, you'd think their artistic minds could come up with something more creative than that. Then a student asked if the hyperbolas that we were talking about were the same thing as the virus, and it took me a couple of seconds to realize she was talking about the ebola virus.
So yes, America, your future is in sad, lubricant-obsessed hands. I hope you're happy.
After that debacle, I came back home through 45 degrees and rain for a good finger-picking, jazz-chord playing guitar lesson. Did I mention that I picked up the Beatles complete score book from Hal Leonard, and that it completely rocks my face? Seriously, every song, note for note, drum beat for drum beat, completely transcribed (with the possible exception, as my dad pointed out, of the symphony from a Day in the Life). Very, very awesome, and I'm in the process of teaching myself A-Z.
In other Beatles-related news - I can't remember if i mentioned this or not, but my left speaker in my car died. And the Past Masters Vol. 2 CD sounds very weird but also kind of awesome with only the right channel playing.
Okay, back to it. Miserable night weather-wise tonight. Beck had a crappy first day at her externship, but I think today is going well. If she has a better KY Jelly story than I do, I will give her mad props.
Spurs tonight... dare I go to Chili's or some such to watch? Dare I? i think if the weather were better I would do so in a heartbeat, but I'm just not enthused to get out from under the blanket, leave the dogs and chat it up with bar clientele. Plus, just ask the Beck what happened last time I tried to watch a playoff game at a bar - I got hit on by an ex-con used car salesman, and I didn't even get to watch the game! Ay dios mio!
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