Yay Consuela!

The ones who are good at school stuff will figure out tricks and methods for how to get the right answers, but never actually learn anything

Look, when in doubt X = 8, and you can't convince me otherwise. It worked most of the time! Unlike my attempts to do algebra.

Yay, congratulations, Consuela!

Shouldn't there be a grace period on unpleasant meetings when you're in a new position?

Having a grace period where people aren't allowed to flip out like mammals would be a delight.

I have one more quick meeting and then I need lunch. Make food here, or go pick up Thai?

I'm having some leftover Thai right now aifg

Woot Woot, Consuela!!!

Congrats, Consuela!

I'm having some leftover Thai right now aifg

I'll get Thai for lunch and cook dinner myself. Compromise!

Yay Consuela!!

Consuela, that's fantastic! Congrats!

Burrell, I have no advice on the math tracking, but if F being in the "normal" track at a gifted school is going to cause issues down the road for college (acceptance), then we collectively need to rethink what the hell we are doing to our children via the educational system. Challenging them is great; demoralizing them? NSM.

There were no honors courses in grade school for me (K-8). I tested into honors math, English, science, and history for high school. Math was the only subject that made me cry, and I dropped the honors designation for senior year, and was infinitely happier for it. YFMV (Your F May Vary.)

Hooray, shrift! Multiple surfaces to slounge upon. We need pictures of your swanky apartment.

Thai is always the better choice. I had ginger-basil chicken with coconut rice the other night.

Congrats, Consuela!!

Go Thai, choose Thai!

Huzzah, Suela! About damn time.

I love arithmetic and multiplication and division and fractions and all the fun little patterns you can make playing with 3's and 9's, but I am hopeless at higher math. Worse than hopeless - my geometry teacher used to tutor me every day at lunch for free, because he couldn't believe that someone so smart could be failing so hard, and every now and then I'd have a marvelous flash of getting it; some explanation would hit home, something would click, and it'd be like I'd suddenly stumbled across the switch to a brilliant floodlight in the dark dank tunnel I'd been crawling through and now I could see it was a perfect Aladdin's cave of sparkling jeweled logic. Then the light would snap out and I'd bark my shin on a treasure chest and smack my face into a rocky wall, and I could never find the same switch twice.

And yay shrift for having a couch and a bed! (Which for some reason I initially typed as "a couch and Abed".) You've got a spot to slounge on, a spot to sleep in, and you've been through an earthquake and a miserable two-day heat wave followed by a week of biting fog. All you need is a shot of Fernet in some disreputable-looking bar far away from the Marina and you will be a true San Franciscan.