Tag Archives: GRE

The Wait Is Over

Not like I was really holding my breath, but I’ve been wondering how my Subject GRE for Literature in English turned out. Kind of obsessively checking the mailbox since Saturday, when I realized the scores had been “sent” to Drake.

Score: 530
% Below: 44
Correct: 124, Incorrect: 53, Unanswered: 53
Formula Score: 111

I’ll be honest, I don’t know what any of that actually means. It’s not good, though. Scores range from 200-990. Most schools I was interested in want a 600. The average score is 541.

I feel very mediocre. Below average. Unimpressive. Just another kid avoiding the real world through advanced education.

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Garfield

I am having another bad Monday. (I even sort of feel like a fat, orange cat. Eew.)  Actually, the last few days have been Mondays. Being sick the beginning of last week through me off. Coming back and working Friday felt like Monday, and then Saturday and Sunday felt like Monday, too. But today is definitely Monday because it’s a bad day. I spent my morning on hold waiting to find out why my stupid GRE account won’t work. I need to order my official score reports to all the colleges I would like to attend, but apparently the confirmation and registration numbers, my undergraduate institution code, and my email address are not valid. I find that interesting. The easy-to-do-stuff is never actually easy, is it? After battling the phone system and getting nowhere, I realized that I accidently made plans during work on Saturday. Damnit. Which then highlighted the fact that I work Tuesday-Saturday. Not an attractive schedule. Then I went to French class and failed a test. C’est lundi. ::le sigh::

But the tense frustration from today couldn’t hold its own against speeding all over town while blasting Evolver. Thanks, John, for appeasing yet another day.

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Literary Letdown

I thought I could have studied more; taken the subject GRE more seriously. Not awfully unprepared, but, you know, just not exactly ready for it.

WRONG.

There was no “ready” for this. No amount of studying could have prepared me. That test was probably the biggest waste of time, money and effort. I don’t think more than two “must know” pieces of information were on there: The Canterbury Tales and Beowulf. Not one notecard written in a subtle shade of you-better-fucking-know-this red was there. No winged chariot,  widening gyre, passionate shepherd or a drop of water, anywhere! Instead, I got a fucked up ghost story, an obscure quote from a gay dead author, and a racist basketball. And one Restoration Comedy.

Yeah, some stuff I studied was on there, but I didn’t answer one-fourth to one-third of the questions. That’s somewhere around 60 questions. Poor time management was troublesome, but I didn’t even recognize an alarming number of authors or works listed. I would only be less ready if I had attempted open-heart surgery for those three hours instead.

Being told to put my No.2 pencil down was an anxiety-ridden moment indeed.

But hey, it’s done. I survived, Sarah survived, and we had a blast at The Full Monty in Minnesota. Plus this epic failure eliminates the number of schools I plan to apply to. Sweet. More money to celebrate my academic anticlimax.

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Get It

This time tomorrow I will finishing my road trip to Minnesota to see a production of The Full Monty.

But there’s still a lot that’s got to happen before that. Number one being shaking off the sleepiness in my hands. Last night  I sliced myself nine times with a box-cutter and pulled down a really heavy bark-wrapped mirror from stock–which only landed safely on the ground because I used my body as a landing pad. The latter is what I think did my hand in. My good old right hand, which I will be using non-stop  for three hours tomorrow morning, is a bit on the slow side. The nice padded part on my palm, under my thumb, is swollen and sore. I feel like I have arthritis. Even typing is hard. I don’t know anything about injuries, so I’ve just been icing the bugger off and on while I scan Sparknotes.

Sparknotes is another thing that has to get done by tomorrow… preferably in the next hour. I recently realized part of my problem memorizing characters and authors is that I have no plot to connect them together. Ergo (“therefore!” for any Burchard students out there) I started my day with Sparknotes plot summaries. Why, oh why, didn’t I think of this sooner? Well, probably because I’ve been too busy blowing off studying for better options like sleep or the movie Heavy Metal. But still, maybe Sparknotes can be my saving grace.

I also need to successfully navigate to Ames, our hotel, Carver Hall, and Whitney’s apartment before I can dream of seeing the show. I’m crossing my fingers that, although I am directionally challenged, Sarah will keep me sane.

Finally, there is that little matter of the GRE subject test on Literature in English. Yesterday morning I entered the state of panic and it proceeded through the wee hours of the night. Now, I’m nervous, scared, and just plain tired. I could have done more, but I didn’t. So what? If I’m worth anything at all, I’ll get into school without this test.

While I’m not ready for the test, I’m SO ready for all this crap to be over with. And tomorrow, sometime after noon, it will be. I’ll take that.

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Ghoul School

Two Weeks. I am terrified of the subject GRE. Notice: terrified of and not terrified for. In all honesty, I’m slacking and it’s because I have other things to do, better things and more fun things to do, and because the test is fucking insane. No person with my undergraduate education could ever entertain the slightest hope of nailing the test. And I just now, for the first time, am reading the strategy and practice test book. Did you know you get negative points for answering a question wrong? Can I earn a negative score? Shit.

But despite my general unease, 16 questions into my first practice test (an out-of-control 230 multiple choice doozies) I found a question I knew without hesitation—before I even read the answer options. So not ready for both knowing the answer, and how excited I was by it.

Reading Dracula for fun in the seventh grade paid off. Fangtastic.

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It’s Only Monday

Today feels like Friday. Mondays are such a fucking tease.

This particular Monday was a big amalgamation of things, I guess. I slept in, which was great. But when I woke up the apartment was 60 degrees and I did NOT want to get up. However, this did mean I grabbed another blanket in the night, so it’s officially my favorite weather.

French class, I managed to stay alert (thank you Starbucks). I also secretly won twice at French Food Bingo, but I hate all the all-eyes-on-me aspect of shouting out “lotto!” so I pretended that I never had du lait or le biftek. ::le sigh::

Après la classe française, je suis allée à la banque. Well, that turned into an endeavor. A very nice man (who told me to visit India) updated my account which hadn’t been touched since I got my debit card in high school. Say hello to a new Platinum debit card holder. I also set up automatic bill pay for my monthly rent–take that you Signature Place bastards! Never again can you miraculously lose my check. Woohee.

Then came the big event, also known as checking the mail. All last week I had been checking for my GRE scores, but today I forgot. Until I pulled the ETS envelope out of my mailbox. Dundundunnn.

Verbal: 640 (92%)
Quantitative: 560 (39%)
Analytical: 4.5 (63%)

I should be elated. Doing better than 92% of the 1,421,856 people who took the verbal section is impressive. And it would feel awesome, if I hadn’t earned a 4.5 on my Analytical. I was hoping for at least a 5. I thought I nailed the questions (well enough, at least). Ah, well.

16,000 pages

16,000 pages

Basically that means I just need to get focused. Study. HA. Just look at what I have to “read” in a little over a month. Norton Critical this, and Norton Critial that. At least after Edmund Spenser I am 1/16 of the way there!

Other things of note include: A.) Discovering I was de-friended by a person who previously friended me, de-friended me, re-friended me, and has now ended our friendship again–this time terminally. Funny, because I know exactly why. B.) Reuniting with the WDM PL for the first time in over a month. C.) Telling a dear friend of mine to have sex in an empty bar. Never doubt my questionable fortitude.

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Owning Up

I cringe, in fact I actually turn away, during moments in movies or shows when people make fools of themselves. Prime examples include when Janey and Jeff first met in Girls Just Want to Have Fun, when Derek thought he won Male Model of the Year in Zoolander, and every interaction between Codex and Zaboo in The Guild. That is why it is so hard for me to admit what I’m going to write right now: I was a week off with my GRE test date. I couldn’t deceive my many blog readers (all three of you. Hi friends!), but I really wanted to. Thankfully, the date is a week off in my favor–next Saturday is the test. I have a somewhat legitimate reason to have been confused, but that doesn’t change how embarrassed I am. I want to flee the scene when I think about it because I feel like I’m the kid wearing the dunce cap in the corner of the one-room school house. Or maybe like Seth when Becca finds his dick drawings in Superbad. Either way, it’s not good and I can’t look away because it’s my bad moment. I lay myself at your feet and beg of you to overlook this distressing admission of mine.

(Although this might be for the best. Now I just want the damn thing over with. I’m tired of dreaming the definitions of insidious and invidious and perspicacious. And I’m getting entirely too much sleep.)

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I’m Not Alone

Loneliness is weird. You can feel lonely when you’re actually alone, in a busy place, or even with your closest friends. It certainly doesn’t discriminate the time or place. I feel personally, physically, and situationally lonely. Like, no one else can understand how scared I am that this GRE is going to be a failure. That I’m not going to get into grad school. That everything I worked hard for in college is going to be wasted. That I’m not as smart or talented as people seem to think I am. I’m terrified about money, the future, and jobs. I’ve started to slowly lose friends that I would give the world for, which makes me feel lonelier still.

But what I’m finding is that this is more or less the status quo for most female twenty-somethings (which you think I would have known, seeing as it is the baseline plot for 90% of chic lit). I guess it’s normal to be frustrated and feeling like nothing is in your control, but I hate it. I hate being that girl. The girly emotional girl. The scared girl. The unconfident and jaded girl. I’m not her, but I act like her sometimes. And I’m totally unnerved at the thought of things not improving. I can take little reassurance in the thought that I’m not alone. But I would almost rather I were, because it would be a lot more uplifting if I knew things were okay for other people.

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Sounds of Silence

I didn’t know it was cool for little teenage twats to hang out at the library and make a bunch of noise. Seriously, you little 13-year-old snot, do you even know who is on your shirt? No, your mom bought it for you at Target because all the bands from her era made a comeback. And you didn’t buy that scrapbooking paper, so don’t tell your friend she can’t use the pink color. Your mom will buy you more. Or you can, with your allowance. I’m sure it’s more than I make.

Clearly, I’m irritable. My vocabulary is not good enough for the GRE, and meeting with Lenz made me feel like grad school is a pipe dream. And it will be if I can’t get some good study space. Since when did the library become an it’s-okay-to-be-loud zone? I’m not even downstairs in the bratty kid section. I’m upstairs with all the other adults who are trying to study. Although, they make enough of their own noises.

One week until the GRE.

I am so fucked.

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fail

My first GRE practice test was an absolute disaster. I was not ready for that. I didn’t expect to do fabulous, but this was an eye-opener. I have exactly one month today until the GRE that could get me into Brown. Fuck.

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