Big Girl Running

I'm back.  And thank heavens, because studying is just awful and takes time away from really important things, like writing in this blog, or spending an hour in the card aisle at Target, or spending my Friday evenings watching Wife Swap. 

On the morning of my test I set my alarm for 5 am to get a last minute cram session in, because the evening before I obviously had to watch LOST, and then unfortunately got sucked into V (which is like that fourth glass of wine: you always regret it the next morning).  Oh, and I voted (and being in Pennsylvania, that was a very big senatorial race - I had to indulge my bleeding heart!). 

So, I was downstairs, dressed, and had breakfast by 5:30 and was crammin' away like a good (bad?) little student.  As a note, this test really tested (haha HA - get it, "tested"?!) my study habits.  Namely, because I have none.  I have gotten through school on my intelligence (cough, cough) and avoidance of hard classes (case in point, in 12th grade most people took physics, but I enrolled in AP environmental science, which was a joke, as is anything compared to physics, really).  At NYU they require two semesters of science for us non-science majors, and because I WAS NOT THINKING STRAIGHT, I took physics because "I never experienced it in high school".  This is also the girl who dodged calculus (I took no math 12th grade) and took something like AP Philosophy (another joke - I know how to pick 'em).  As a note, what the hell was Plato talking about in that damn cave?!  Anyway, although this particular physics class was aimed for non-science majors, it was a total embarrassment and by week three I was apologizing to my lab partner for how dumb I was.

In college we were also required to take four semesters of a foreign language.  Now, you can test out this requirement (or test into, say, French 2 or 3 or 4) by taking the SAT II and doing well.  As someone who took Spanish 1, 2, 3 and 4 in high school you would think, "Well, surely, this girl would at least test into Spanish 3."  Well, you are wrong.  I am foreign language impaired.  It's sad, really, and runs in my family (I believe my younger sister's choice of college hinged on the very fact they had no foreign language requirement).  I took the SAT II and tested into....wait for it......SPANISH 1!  It was a staggering set-back and embarrassment so early in my collegiate career, but, come on, totally expected.  So I thought, "At least I can do well since I'm retaking a lot of this."  ALSO WRONG.  Since I went to a university where most people had a modicum of intelligence, most of my classmates were fluent by the end of Spanish 2.  I was very bitter.

In high school I did well in Spanish only due to my skills in persuasion.  I very clearly remember approaching my Spanish 4 teacher and laying it all out: saying I was never going to speak this language, I'm essentially a dummy but I try REALLY hard, and what do you think about some extra credit?  How about a paper (in English, no less) on El Greco, I said, as the class focused on Spanish art.  Or how about some Goya?! I urged.  She eventually relented and I got my A.  (That grade inflation problem?  Attribute it to me.)

So, there I was on Wednesday morning going over labor laws and knowing, sadly, fate had caught up to me.  To play it safe, I drove to the testing center early, and parked.  I was there an hour early and studied some more, or, until I decided the pre-loaded games on my cellphone were more interesting.  I was to be at the testing center at 8:30, and got out of the car at 8:25 to enter the building.  I walked in, thinking, "Be strong!  Be confident!  You've got this!"

The problem was, I was at the wrong place.  And I had left my directions in the car.  With my cellphone.  And, apparently, my sanity.  "Do you know where 100 Elm Street is?!" I howled as I ran into each building.  The problem, I learned, I was on East Elm, and I should have been on West.  I also learned I need to get in shape as I probably ran no more than a quarter of a mile (at the very most) and has heaving as I finally found the testing center.  Dripping with sweat and coughing I finally sat down to take my test at 8:50 am.  Two things should be know here: Matt gave me the directions so I blame him (hey, I was busy watching V!).  And second, I passed.  Halle-freakin'-lujah!

 This is me running to my test.

Why, yes, it was on a beach.

And obviously that's my very in-shape bod.  

Look, no questions, ok?