Archive for October, 2006
October 4, 2006 @ 7:01 am | Filed under: School Stuff
"There is nothing to fear except the persistent refusal to find out the truth, the persistent refusal to analyze the causes of happenings." – Dorothy Thompson
___________________________
The day of truth had dawned.
The clock struck ten o’clock and, again, Dr. J strode into the room with every bit as much purpose as she had on the previous Thursday. In her arms she carried what was most obviously our exams, which she plunked down on her desk and then fixed us with a steely gaze.
"I have to tell you that out of all my classes, THIS class had the lowest exam average." She didn’t even wait for that little bit of cheery news to digest. "The average in here was…a 63."
I don’t know what I feared the most: the results of my own exam or the tone in her voice and the expression on her face. The material I had committed to memory still hovered in my consciousness, names, events, places of importance. Despite my earlier doubts, I knew I had done my best. Still, you know I have that need to do well…uh, in everything.
"Here’s the results of the exam." Dr. J walked to the whiteboard and proceeded to list the following: 5 A’s, 7 B’s, 6 C’s, 1 D, and <gulp> 18 F’s."
I quickly glanced around, trying to mentally calculate where I might fall in this group. I’d certainly make it into the top twelve, right? A guaranteed A or B, surely.
Still…
Dr. J leaned over her desk, anchored her hands on the edge, and gave the most…awful…speech.
"Some of you seem to be operating under some kind of misguided preconception that community college is ‘play college.’ But it’s not. This is the real thing, and if you want any of your credits to transfer to a four-year university then - "
She broke off and, really, basically glared at us.
" - YOU’D BETTER LEARN TO STUDY!!!"
Ouch. Can you say panic attack, part deaux?
Finally the moment of truth approached. She began to call out names and I watched with compassion as one kid after another went up and snatched their fate from her hands. Their faces were transparent, and it was easy to tell the ones who’d managed to pass and the ones who fell into the F category. My mother’s heart went out to them, and I temporarily forgot about my own trepidation.
"Ms. Wilder."
I eased from my chair and moved up the aisle. Taking the paper from her, I held it to my side until I’d reached my desk. Even then I was…scared. Slowly, I turned it over, careful to keep the result hidden from any inquiring eyes around me.
My heart pounded and, again, I felt a few twinges of actual pain. It was the kind of pounding that you feel in your ears, you know?
The red numbers looked huge to my eyes and I stared a few seconds, making sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.
Then I breathed. Deeply.
96.
October 3, 2006 @ 3:26 pm | Filed under: School Stuff
It all started last Thursday. Well, really, on Tuesday. Actually…it began five weeks ago but it took me until last week to realize just how much studying it was going to take to make the grade I want in history.
History, of all things.
I mean, how hard can memorization - a few battles, a few key players, a few important events and laws - be, right?
Uh-huh. That’s what I thought too.
On Tuesday night I pulled out the review sheet for Thursday’s exam. Now keep in mind that this exam is over one entire unit. To break it down, that would be six chapters. Or two-hundred thirty pages. Or everything from pre-Columbian days through the Revolutionary War.
You get the picture.
I attacked the review sheet with fervor, studying well into the night and the entire day on Wednesday. I paused a few times to wonder if maybe - just maybe - I was over reacting. What if I did all that studying and the test was an easy A?
Should I instead be washing a load of clothes, hitting a few golf balls at the driving range, or maybe even do a little…writing?
But the image of Dr. J, my History professor, hung like a banner on the front porch of my mind, refusing to be ignored or taken lightly. I’m mature enough to know when a person means business and her words, her mannerisms, and her body language had been giving the class a lesson apart from the ones in our textbook.
She would be tough.
The morning of the exam I awoke with a whole army of newly hatched butterflies swimming around in my tummy. I choked down a few bites of breakfast, drank too much coffee, and arrived at school early enough to go over my notes one. more. time. This was big. My poor brain hadn’t been subjected to the rigors of an exam in twenty years and it wasn’t exactly thrilled about this one.
Somehow I made it through Religions class and then walked with leaden footsteps to the history department. By the time I sank into my chair my heart was pounding to the point where I actually experienced a few twinges of pain. Can someone define panic attack, please?
The clock struck ten o’clock and Dr. J breezed into the room with firm instructions to take out our mini-essay books (scantrons & essay form in one), clear our desks, and prepare for the exam. I clutched my No. 2 pencil with sweaty, tense fingers, resisting the urge to tap out some kind of tribal beat with it on my desk. You know, something signifying certain impending doom.
Minutes later, the exams were passed out and I opened it with fear and trembling. Multiple choice and true/false statements made up 60% of the exam and then an essay question made up the remaining 40%. I read the first question and my heart sank like a rock.
I didn’t know the answer.
My mind spun around like a top and the lump in my throat grew enormous. My heart still hammered and I tried some deep breathing, hoping the steady in-and-out of air would somehow clear my muddled brain.
I stared down at the exam and reasoned with myself.
Staci, you know this stuff. You know you do, girl. You studied, what, for a good six or seven hours. You memorized each and every Navigation Act. You can define Anasazi and tell what they are known for. You can name the middle colonies and give a blow-by-blow listing of their religious affiliations, the crops they grew, and the type of government each had.
My breathing slowly returned to normal and I loosened my grip on the pencil. I could do this. Bending my head over the test I took it one. question. at. a. time.
One hour and five minutes later, I walked out of the classroom.
It would be five days before I learned the results…
(to be continued…)
October 2, 2006 @ 1:36 pm | Filed under: Uncategorized
Is this ME, or what?
Okay, maybe not, but a girl can dream, can’t she? Forget the fact that we’re in the process of purchasing Son #1 a college car, only to be followed in a few short months by the need to purchase Son #2 a college car.
So while I’m dreaming of the day when I can walk into a car dealership and pick out my very own very un-Momlike vehicle (meaning it won’t have to have unlimited stowing capacity, seven seats, or even four doors) I will just have fun "trying on" cars.
This was taken, courtesy of a really nice Chevy guy at the State Fair of Texas auto show. I climbed in while he got behind the camera. Just as I was breaking out my best Hollywood smile, Mike called out, "Put on your shades, sweetheart!" So I slid them on with only a split second to spare before the shutter clicked.
As un-Momlike cars go, this one fits, don’t you think?
What else did we do at the fair, you ask? Let me see if I can sum it all up for you:
Fletcher’s corn dogs, Chinese acrobat show, sausage-on-a-stick (see pic of Mike, mid-bite), antique car show, tornado fries, Birds of Prey show, cotton candy (just Cheryl), turkey leg (just Bon), fried-green tomatoes (this was my first time to have these and they totally rock), and lots and lots of water.
For those of you who are wondering, no, I did not have any deep-fried Coke.
However… 
I did walk up to that particular stand and watch them prepare a few. I wrestled with it, let me tell you. Being the die-hard (though newly reformed) Diet Coke fan that I am, how could I merely walk away without at least giving it careful consideration?
They didn’t have any Diet Coke.
Bottom line. Decision made.
I walked away guilt-free, with the five bucks still tucked securely in my Mike’s wallet.
