Two more weeks until classes start.
Do you hear the excitement in my statement? No? That's because it's not ######6 there.
I don't know why I'm in college. Well, I know why I'm in college. I don't know how I'm still in college. If it wasn't for the extra sharp little brain of my handling a bunch of $#%^ at one time I would have dropped out a while ago, so this is a personal thanks to my brain for putting up with everything it does. I'm quite impressed and I'm quite grateful. Me and him have our quarrels but If I had a different brain I just wouldn't be the same. I couldn't imagine that.
I never read the textbooks. I buy them (usually on amazon) but I don't read them because I don't need to. Unless the professor didn't go over a topic in class, all the information just sits in the back of my head until I need it. People always ask me how I study and I never know how to answer because I rarely study. I practice problems for calc of course, but if the class is heavy in reading, writing, analyzing, or anything that doesn't include arithmetic then I see no point in going over what I already remember. It's a gift, I think. It makes classes really easy. It's a gift, I think.
I'm not a genius and I don't have an Eidetic memory, that's for sure. But when I see words, it's weird. They become their own little chunk of memory space, especially if I write it down too. My first semester of calculus I realized I was really going to struggle in the class with the professor (he explained things in the words of the textbook without translating it into English) so I devised a way to remember his lectures. He talked fast, wrote fast, and if you didn't catch it, oh well. I figured if I spelled out and pictured every word he said, every word he wrote down ( in addition to me taking notes) i'd be able to recall a portion of the lecture whenever I wanted. With some practice, It actually worked. It's been a year and a half since that class and I still have picture perfect memories of his lectures on the chalk board. I remember the saw he drew as a way to help us understand inflection points. His story behind it mostly helped me remember though. Apparently there used to be some dude in the downtown area who played music by strumming a saw and it was the long waves spiraling down the body of the blade he focused on. I hated that class. That was about as interesting as it got.
My other calculus professor was amazing. He explained things so simply and always threw the book to the ground. He'd tell you to shut up right in your face if he got annoyed by your whiny little voice in the corner. His quizzes were easy, we rarely did group work, and everything was very straight forward. I had the courage to approach him for help a few times in the beginning of the semester. Me. That's saying something about his character and about the progress I've made with my social anxiety.
It's amazing what words can do to your mindset though. Through all of my k-12 years of school, I've been horrible at math. I couldn't do my times tables in elementary school, but I read at a high school level. Go figure
I struggled in math because I couldn't ask question. I never needed to ask questions with reading and writing, so I excelled. I failed algebra a total of five times the next few years, barely scratched by in geometry and failed "Algebra 2" (pre calc and trig). Well, the teacher gave me a D but I knew I deserved a failing grade. He cut me slack because I always did my homework, I tried my hardest I could to understand without the ability to raise my hand and acknowledge I needed help, and i'd been in his geometry class with the same determination. I felt horrible when I heard him and his wife separated and he spiraled into a depression. He left my high school (that school lost one of the best math teachers they'd ever had. Several others got pink...[ Continued ]
Now my other three will have a friend. I wish they'd talk to each other as much as I talk to them. 
