Musings About My Differential Equations Teacher

I have so much to say about this man.

Okay, let’s start at the beginning.

I love this man.

Note: Loving someone and being IN love with someone are two totally different things. People, especially men, don’t seem to understand that. So I’m enlightening you. You’re welcome.

He’s just the best.

Things You Never Knew About Me: What Kind of Men I Love Edition

There are two kinds of men I love. Number One is the classic All American All Man man. We’re talking a cross between Batman and Captain America. He’s 6’4 or taller with a strong sense of morals, a killer smile, athletic, and good at everything he does. Classic.

Number Two is less obvious. The man who is insanely good at math. Intelligence is so maddeningly attractive. I’m extremely gifted at math, but if you can understand math faster than I do AND explain it to me, you’re my hero. Right up there with Batman. I love you even more if I still don’t get it when you explain it to me.

There have only been two men in my life that fit both of those descriptions. I met one when I was three and the other when I was ten. Both of them were out of my life by the time I was sixteen, and it’s really a tragedy. Because I’m coming to find these types of men are tragically rare. Men that fit either of the categories are rare. Men that fit BOTH are like human phoenixes. Note to self: Never let him go if you find a man who fits both.

Anyways, my differential equations teacher! He would be under the umbrella of category two. To make life better, his name is Pascal. Like… you might have been named after Pascal’s Triangle. Which means I already adore you.

And he has some European accent. Fun Fact about me: I’m notoriously NOTORIOUSLY bad at placing accents. I cannot for the life of me guess where an accent is from. 90% of the time, I don’t hear an accent at all, unless it’s British or Bostonian. It will literally take me a month of sitting in your class to notice that your voice isn’t just musical, there is actually something DIFFERENT about the way you speak English. Hi, Self, it’s called an accent. So I spent all of February trying to figure out where this man is from. I have no idea at all other than it’s European because he’s very very very white, so in my head I decided he is a Frenchmen. I have no idea what French people sound like. But sure, let’s go with it. Side Note: Despite the fact that I cannot hear accents, I have been told by all five of my foreign language teachers that I am incredibly good at picking up the native accent of the language I am learning. I speak German without an accent, and when I knew Italian and like four words of Farsi, they were apparently flawless. I’ll take their word for it, I wouldn’t know. It all sounds the same to me.

Anyways, Pascal just got his Ph.D. in math. (I love you.) And he’s super adorable in the Eddie Redmayne as Stephen Hawking kind of way. Eddie Redmayne himself- not that attractive. Eddie Redmayne as a prodigy- PERFECT. Pascal is like me. He talks to himself a lot. Maybe he’s actually talking to us and 99% of the class aren’t listening (where I am the 1% that is), but let’s say he talks to himself a lot. He writes “Recall this:…” on the board and writes “I will now make up a solution just so we can try it.”. What’s not to love? I DO THE SAME THING. Note: Read my blogs.

He’ll also say things like “I am going to make a side note here, but we’ll come back to the equation. Don’t worry!”. No one is worried, Pascal, but thank you for the enthusiasm. I truly appreciate it.

I sit in the front row, just like I do in all of my math classes, and it’s sort of hard sometimes. Today, we had a quiz that I didn’t know about because I spent my weekend tucked in bed studying American diplomacy up to the Cold War (NOTHING HAPPENED IN THE COLD WAR) and I didn’t think to check if I had a quiz. Of course I have a quiz. So I have to take notes with my right hand (because I’m still only in the process of learning to be ambidextrous), and studying and flipping through my notes with my left hand, and STILL trying to answer Pascal’s questions because he looks so sad when he realizes that no is paying attention or knows the answer. It’s like saving the world. But I do it. So, I’m seriously multitasking today in class. And I get all of the answers to his questions wrong because I’m not answering him, I’m learning about second order non homogeneous linear differential equations with complex roots. Sorry. So, I felt bad, and I probably didn’t do super amazing on the quiz, but I definitely passed. No worries. I don’t think Pascal would be too upset.

And the best part of Dr. Phillips (which is his formal name I call him when I’m not talking to myself in my head), is that he answers me talking to myself as well! It’s an old habit I learned from my several classes in the physics department. Pure math a lot of time doesn’t entirely make sense. Quick fix: write what you’re thinking. Explain yourself. Even if your math is wrong, at least they know you conceptually know what you are talking about. So, on one of my homeworks, I came up with two complex roots, and I wrote “I would choose the negative one because it encompasses the range of the IVP”. To which Pascal writes back “Okay, then do that. 🙂 ” Hey now. I’m nice, and I let you talk to yourself. I don’t need the sass. Even though I appreciate you taking the time to write back.

This, my dear reader, is why math is so much of fun. You’re justified in talking to yourself. Unless your professor calls you out on it. Which he’s allowed to do because he’s of questionable heritage and absolutely brilliant. Differential Equations is just a blast. I recommend it to all.

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