Me, the Boyfriend and how I finally crack maths

I go to University and do not give maths a thought for two and a half years.  But then in my final year the job market rears its ugly head and with it my appalling lack of mathematical qualifications.

I complain to my boyfriend that loads of idiots can do maths - why not me?  Boyfriend sees me as the ultimate mathematical challenge and says he will teach me.

Our maths sessions go something like this:
Me (frowning) - But why do you have to do the same thing on both sides - it doesn't make sense?
Him (sighing) - Of course it makes sense - just get on with it.
Me (hair swishing) - Why is maths so boring?
Him (wincing) - Maths is beautiful.
Me (extreme hair swishing with some pouting) - Shall we go and have a drink?  Maths makes me thirsty for alcohol - do you think many mathematicians become alcoholics?
Him (through gritted teeth)  - Please, please stop talking for ten minutes.  Oh for God's sake - even just one minute - please, I beg you.
Me (cheerily) - Sounds like you need a drink - I'll go and get my coat.

Six (very, very, very long) months later - the day after my finals - I go back to my old school to take the maths exam along with a roomful of clever-looking 16 year olds (how I hate them all).

August, the letter comes - I have passed.  I am delighted for about 10 minutes, have a lot to drink to celebrate, burst in to tears and promptly forget how to do percentages.  Boyfriend heaves giant sigh of relief that this is the end of his mathematical involvement with me - well, that is what he thought at the time - even now I email him if I get stuck on a particularly tricky percentage...

Me, maths and Rhett Butler

Strangely I am put in the top class for maths at secondary school - either a case of mistaken identity or someone with a twisted sense of humour?  It seems to have escaped my teachers that maths has escaped me - but there was no hiding it when it came to public exams at 16.

The exams are a bit of a chore, but the best thing is that when we have finished a paper we are allowed to give it in and then sit quietly reading a book.  I am reading 'Gone with the Wind' and am obsessed with Rhett Butler (who in my imagination looks nothing like Clark Gable - I was utterly traumatised when I saw the film - much too smooth - no five o'clock shadow - anyway enough of my fevered imaginings...).

On the day of the maths exam I have got to a good bit in the book and can't wait to get back to Rhett.
'Oh Rhett,' - I'm saying that in my fluttery Scarlett O'Hara voice  - 'Oh Rhett, you are such a bad man!'  - these aren't Scarlett's actual words for any purists - just my interpretation of what she should have said, then they'd have got together quite a bit earlier.  Actually this talking to characters from books is becoming quite addictive - must do it more often - definitely Captain Wentworth next.  Slight dilemma do I stick to calling him Captain Wentworth or Frederick - don't want to be thought forward?

Anyway I speed through the simultaneous equations as the siren call of Mr Butler tempts me from the path of righteousness (Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn - sorry, so couldn't resist that).

When the results appeared in August it was not surprisingly that I have failed maths (so you don't think I am utterly sad I have to assure you that Rhett didn't have a negative effect on my other exams - my inner swot won out against the lure of literature).

I retake the exam twice in the Lower Sixth to no avail.  In desperation I am sent to a private tutor who happens to live in Christ Church - one of the Oxford colleges.  I am not thrilled to spend sunny afternoons doing maths, but I am thrilled to find out that the room where I sit was lived in by the Liddell family (Alice 'in Wonderland' Liddell).  Also that Lewis Carroll possibly sat on the same chair as me (not at the same time -that would have been creepy).  Oddly enough Carroll's academic field was mathematics - this confirming (to me anyway)  the rumours that there was something dubious about him.  I spend a fair bit of time talking to my tutor about Carroll - it is very interesting, the maths less so.

Inevitably I fail again.

Me and maths

My brain isn't designed to do maths (or to use DVD players, drive cars, change light bulbs or set up computers i.e. basically anything I can persuade someone else to do as they do it so well...)

I became aware of my mathematical shortcomings when fairly young.  At primary school we had a maths test every Monday morning.  I didn't mind the test itself as it gave me uninterrupted time to think about books or food , but I hated it when we went through the answers.   The headmaster (who taught the top class) would read out the question - something like 'If it takes 20 men 50 years to fill a bath containing 45 gallons with a tooth mug how many months will it take a old man armed with an egg cup' or some such nonsense.  He would then look a round for the child least likely to know and then demand an answer.

I grew wise to this and just before 'answers' I would put up my hand and ask if I could go to the lavatory.  I would then hang around in the lav making origami animals out of paper towels until I heard the lunch bell ringing and then reappear in time for goulash and jam roly-poly.

I probably got away with this for about six months before the HM asked my Mum if there was something wrong with my bowels.