I don't like rice.

Which is odd, because there's nothing wrong with it.  I just don't like it. I associate it with being poor or sick. It doesn't really have a flavor.  I think it's a waste of calories.  So I don't like it.  And I don't eat it.

If a person says "I hate Brussels sprouts" or "I hate beets", everyone understands.  Even if you happen to like Brussels sprouts, you probably get why someone else doesn't like them.  But rice? No one sympathizes with me.

Journaling reads:

Kerig started calling me “math girl” close to a year ago, and I have to admit, there in the beginning, I didn’t like it very much.  I felt like maybe he was making fun of me. To be fair, that’s probably all in my imagination, especially since he’s been my biggest supporter and best, most reliable cheerleader all along.  But over time the name has grown on me.  In my head, Math Girl is a super hero.  I have a silly vision in my head of a cartoon girl with a cape with a fun and MG logo on it.  I would like to say that I envision fighting off bad guys with a dry erase marker and my mad integrating skills, but alas, my attempts to study in public have yielded some pretty weird experiences: boys in chicken suits, strange men asking to borrow 50¢ “or maybe a dollar?”, a lady who began making really loud crowing noises and randomly rearranged chairs at the tables around me.  I think these experiences have proven that I’m not ready to go up against the Joker, Lex Luthor or The Riddler anytime soon.
 And never mind that “sigma notation” is my own personal kryptonite… 

I find that televisions, computers, and boyfriends all pose a huge threat to my concentration level, so I have found that going "out" helps me avoid those distractions.  Except, I just seem to trade pleasant distractions for just plain WEIRD distractions.

What on earth does any of this have to do with rice? Nothing, really.  On the way from school to work today I was thinking about how I might have time to write up a blog post, and that it would be about this layout.  Which got me to thinking that I made this right after the Spring semester ended, and how Sigma notation was a pain in my ass then.  And just today we moved on after having spent the last three weeks on....drum roll please...sigma notation.  And it wasn't any less of a pain in my ass this time around.  But really sigma notation is like rice: it's not really a big deal.  But I don't like it, so I make my own big deal about it.

Look.  I found the place where whining about school and scrapbooking intersect. WOOT.