I really dislike statistics. Not the practice of statistics, but just the class. It's just so boring and stupid. All we've done so far is add up ridiculous amounts of numbers and figured out stuff about them. And when I say we've figured out stuff about them, I mean we've just made box-and-whisker plots of them. I'm not learning anything. I mean, I already know to do all that crap, and I already know how to get pissed off about it.
I think a lot of why I don't like the class is the teacher. Miss Sweetwood is one of those teachers that is strict about stupid stuff by which only a neurotic and paranoid person would be irritated. One time the class was put in pairs to do some work. My partner was Marshall and we decided it would be a good idea to go in the hall to work away from all the noise of the classroom. We walked outside and finished the work earlier than everyone else and walked back in and sat down. Immediately Sweetwood called us up to her desk and told us that she had specifically told the class not to go in the hall. The problem was that she told the class this after we were already in the hall. I told her that sound is not very apt to going through thick walls but she was still mad. She's retarded.
For the first two weeks I had eaten my lunch in statistics. It's right before lunchtime and I think I might be mildly diabetic so I need food during that period to concentrate. But the last time I had statistics, I pulled out a sandwich and began to carefully, quietly, and neatly eat it. I wasn't disturbing anyone or anything. Sweetwood was near my desk, getting mad at Marshall for taking her stapler to his desk to staple his assignment. I scolded Marshall for his unforgiveable transgression.
"Geeth, Mahsull, why yu haf oo ake 'ings sho har' for 'er?" I said with a mouthful of sandwich.
Sweetwood heard this and spun around in my direction to see me holding my half-eaten sandwich.
"Does this room look like a cafeteria?" she asked. I hate it when people ask questions like that.
"Wan' a bite?" I asked with a still pretty full mouth.
"Put it away."
I quickly took 3 or 4 more bites and put the sandwich in my backpack. By the time I was able to get it out again, it was warm and mushy. I couldn't waste it but when I offered it to people, no one would accept it. I eventually had to throw it away. I still feel bad about that.
Anyway, Sweetwood is a terrible teacher and in no way can be compared to Danner, the best math teacher at phs.
And if Sweetwood is reading this, here's a statistic for you: 300% of your class sucks while -200% is okay (With a margin of error of 200%). I'd draw a box-and-whisker plot or a histogram of this information for you if they didn't irritate me so much because of your bad teaching. Which they do.
Stupidness, thy name is Sweetwood.