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10:59 p.m. - December 13, 2002 I have been up since 7 AM this morning, studied for quite a few hours, went to take my exam, and halfway through my exam, I realized I forgot to eat lunch (my exam was at 2 PM). As far as exams go, I am not sure how it went. It sure felt horrible though. That is all I have to say. But no matter the grade, my exam and semester grade for my tough advanced clinical testing class came through: I surprised myself! I officially got a 94.5% on the exam and it all evened out to a 90.8% for the semester! Wowee! Not bad for someone who started with an 82% on the first exam, and an 88% on the second exam. Yep. I was thrilled. I think I'm starting to understand how to study now. But I think I'm tired. And one of the scary things is that I'm not even exactly sure what to do with myself, now the semester is over, and that I can actually have time to do things besides study and sleep and eat. (With a bit of whining thrown in, of course.) I have officially made it through my first semester of graduate school. I am so happy. After the exam, some of us went to a bar/restaurant across the street--which was nice. Two of the girls were complaining about grad school (duh, all of us do it), and the other one--Bob--a non traditional student and I don't like the tests and studying, but we're okay with the grades we get, because we know we work hard and we learn. (Even though I obsess over them, I know I do...but when it comes down to it, if I get a B, and I worked my butt off to get that B, then I'm okay.) I really didn't realize this till today. The girls went to the bathroom, and I was sitting with Bob, and he looked at me and said, "So how do you feel about school?" I shrugged. "It's good." "See, I know. They worry too much about their grades." "Yeah." "They think their grades are everything. I think you and I are different, cause we know if we learn, as long as we learn, we're okay. And we've had to deal with worse things, so grad school isn't so bad." I agreed. Thought for a moment, and I said, "Yeah. I mean, when I was in college, I had to write that thesis--that was a year of hell. And then I took a year off after I graduated, and I think that helped, too." Bob nodded. "Yeah." He opened his mouth to say more. But then we noticed the girls were coming back to the table. I'm also going to be on the new advertising brochures for the AuD program...I don't think I ever talked about this. See, what happened is this: last week, my amplification professor announced that she was taking pictures for the brochure. A few days later, my classmate asked me to show up on Wednesday, 1 PM to do earmold impressions. I agreed. She showed up late, and she filled up my ear with pink stuff, and the professor was taking pictures of people...anyway, some of the people who showed up were two people in sweatshirts for the school, one former welder (complete with helmet), one police officer (with the uniform), one former professional pianist, me, and another classmate who was turning in her final exam. The professor kept bringing me into pictures. She didn't want anyone but the welder, the police officer, and the pianist, once she had finished taking pics of the others (since they were, in her opinion, superfluous). I couldn't figure out the angle on these pictures. She showed the class what she put together, and it went something like: "What do a welder, police officer, Fulbright Scholar, and professional pianist have in common?" Underneath that huge tagline was the group picture of us four. Beneath that, it said something like, "They are all studying to be audiologists at the AuD Consortium!" Well. I guess I'll be famous again, in a rather roundabout way. I know this is vain, but I am pleased. And I promised you that I'd tell why I hate Friday the 13th now. Ok, this happened in October 2000--remember, at the time, I was (1) doing applications for my Fulbright (2) working on my thesis. I didn't turn something in by a date that my advisor wanted me to (I misunderstood him) and he wrote me a very threatening memo holding failure over my head...and that day...I also got this recommendation letter from someone I asked to write a letter... and I fell apart in the cafeteria, because not only did she spell my name completely wrong, but she wrote the shortest recommendation letter I've ever read, and it wasn't even very good. Something else happened that day...yeah. The computer printer ate a page from my application form, so I broke down right there in the computer lab... Basically, anything that could go wrong, did. That is why I hate Friday the 13th. Somehow, the memory of that isn't so great, even if I never failed my thesis and I got the Fulbright... I'm so weird.
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