I’ve been searching for a solid eight months for an amazing, non-breakable mechanical pencil, ever since my enrollment check for my horrible statistics class cleared. Every day I ask myself, why couldn’t that check have bounced?
And while this column has nothing to do with a class I loathe, this being my fifth and hopefully final stab at attempting to complete such an evil course, it does provide a medium (not to be confused with median) upon which my search for unsnappable (new word) lead prescribes.
Forget about offering me the number 2 pencils of yesteryear. They go dull before I have a chance to write my last name on my stupid homework paper. Who needs dull, when I can have sharp, crisp, clear, and esthetically-written math equations (wrong as they may be) scribbled on the front and back of my 8.5” x 11” papers?
Dull only adds to my ineptitude in math, while crisp seems to shout, “she may not have the right answers, but gosh darn it, look how beautifully she wrote it!”
The problem though, and yes, it’s another one of those jaded word-problems, is that I snap off the tips of those lead sticks every other second. I clumsily go through the three, two-inch strands that comes with each pencil purchase in about two hours, let’s say each class. This is costing me big time.
Maybe it’s the pressure of passing this hideous class that’s giving me a heavy hand. Or maybe it’s not me, and it’s the quality, or lack thereof of the product. All this just makes me question the percentage of students who love statistics and barely break a lead verses those who abhor statistics and break them relentlessly? I feel a poll coming on.
So I tried Pentel’s version (pink), no good. Next was Office Depot’s brand (blue), nope. Then I decided to throw money to the wind and spend an extra five cents in order to give Pilot’s Dr. Grip a whirl. Voila!
Hello success; hello no-achy-breaky-lead. Hello one less pressure in finding P (-1< x <1) using a continuous uniform distribution with parameters of µ = 0 and ∂ = 1, where the minimum is -√3 and the maximum is √3. It also meant I didn’t have to break out my borrowed TI-84 Plus Silver Edition calculator. I mean, who would buy such a contraption that has 50 buttons on it? Call it a computer already and move on. Finally here I stand (or sit), halfway through the semester, proudly sporting a solid C+ in this contemptible, yet-required-for-obtaining-my-BA-degree course. Now armored with a nearly-unbreakable writing instrument (first invented in 1791), if I pass this wicked course, I will owe it all to Dr. Grip – the savior of my elementary probability and statistic woes.