Yesterday we had an absolutely thrilling calculus group meeting, our first in at least three months. C’mon, I’m sure no one else is meeting twice a week either.
It was supposed to begin at 2 but didn’t really start until everyone arrived at 3:30. We have serious communication issues. And I haven’t even gotten to where I said 19 and meant 199, because they are CLEARLY equivalent, haven’t you heard? This in addition to the fact that pi equals three (exactly) and six equals both five and eight.
Actually, Hahna showed up at 2:30, apologizing profusely for her tardiness (hah) and bearing gifts of frozen pizza. Which we subsequently baked, after first removing the tea kettle and sourdough from the oven. And burning the oregano. When calculus students cook…
Then we played phone tag for a while, and finally the other half of our group decided to show up. And finally we started to do calculus and panic about our final next Thursday.
Well, we did that for about half an hour, at least, until I got to one of those annoying questions where you actually have to explain yourself (in words, of all things) and I was literally like “Forget this, I’m making another pizza.”
So I did.
I think one of the fundamental differences between taking practice APs and taking the actual AP is that in one situation you can just get up and make a pizza, and in the other you really can’t.
This pizza was even more unhealthy than the last, though it had quite similar ingredients. The funniest parts were the subingredients though– like tomatoes being composed of water and tomato paste. I’m not making this up. As Silviana pointed out, “I always thought the ingredients of tomatoes were seeds, sunlight, water…” But only in real pizzas, apparently.
After that– and after the clogged toilet– the next two hours passed smoothly, periods of intense silent mathematifying punctuated by periods of thoroughly irrelevant chatter about colleges and Mr. J (among other things). Actually, it was more like periods of chatter punctuated by periods of mathematifying. If you know what I mean.
Eventually, they left. And I let the encroaching mess reclaim its territory on the dining table again.
Tags: Calculus, group meeting, miscommunication, pizza, tomatoes
