5pm: I'd finished that 3,500 word vocab list and reviewed the last of math (advanced probability). The Kaplan book had said to take off 24 hours on the day before the test. I thought 14 hours would be good enough. I threw the books aside and went to see 'Kill Bill', which is singularly gorgeous in its violence. The emphasis on Japanese elements really hit home with me; I was nearly in tears when it came to the swordsmith. If anything you should go see it for the fight sequences, but the critics aren't being shy: there's more blood in this movie than whole horror series. Anyway, the flick did a decent job of distracting me: I only thought about the GRE every 2-3 minutes. Not bad considering I'm a consummate worrier.

9:30pm: At the Macaroni Grill having my favorite: Penne Rustica, a baked pasta with bacon, shrimp and chicken mixed with basil, majorum and other herbs, all topped by a thick crust of parmesan cheese. I talked about the test with mom some. I knew she was getting a little sick of hearing it but it helped keep me calm.

10pm: In my bed, eyes closed, my back snuggling the mattress as I try to go to sleep, trying to keep my mind blank...

12am: Still in bed, eyes still closed, still trying to go to sleep.

2am: First episode of slight panic. I get up and slap myself hard in a sudden fit. I go to see if we have any sleep aides. Ma gave me some Cal-Amo, but that doesn't do the trick for me. Back to bed.

3am: Second episode of moderate panic. I start wondering why my meditational breathing isn't working. I ask the universe why the hell it isn't helping.

5am: After about 2 hours of solid sleep I wake up. I lay in bed for another hour in the hopes of getting more snooze time.

6am: Eating leftovers of Penne Rustica, feeling slightly groggy. Mom has left out a special blend of annointment oils and her citrine necklace. I spray some oil on and feel better. Dawn has a black eye still while I quickly read a medieval fetish catalogue, just to see if my brain is functioning. I skimmed without feeling drunk. I felt ready.

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The testing centre was domesticated sterility. One of the associates asked the few of us that showed up on time to fill out paperwork. She reminded me of the lab teacher I had in my Biology 120 class: the grandmotherly type that takes no shit, knows the deal but offers up hints of encouragement if their younger charge gets insecure. At that point I was perky--a little nervous but optimistic. Eventually I sat down off in the corner, in my own little cubicle with sound-proof earmuffs, biding my time with the 'how to use a mouse' tutorial in order to organize my scratch paper and focus.

The first part was the analytical writing section. It was 75 minutes of writing two essays, one a persuasion piece and the other a "rip this argument a new arse" assignment. Now, I legally can't talk about the questions...but funny enough I got to use Andy Warhol and his can of soup again as an argument piece. I'd done this in two other essays! Somehow post-modernism and Andy Warhol just universally fit most art-related topics. So, basically, the essay part of the test was like eating ice cream--and getting play at the same time. I was inspired; really inspired.

The rest of the test was hellish; utterly hellish. Normally I have no problem with verbal sections. In this case, though, the first one I did was harder than usual. Instead of getting the really complicated 20 dollar words I'd learned (e.g. desultory), I got these dinky words I'd read elsewhere but couldn't recognize. I thought this was fucked and went against what the practice tests were like. I mean, you do well on the first two questions and you normally get into "abstruse words noone ever uses in print, let (fucking) alone use in conversation" territory. Still, I survived that, breathed deep for a minute (since that's all you get) and went on to the math.

The next 45 minutes tore me down. Within the first 7 questions all the techniques I'd learned were fleeing. It was like being staked out in the sun near a fire ant nest, with Mt. Vesuvius schlacking me in honey--me being Pompei's balls. My head started to ache. I wondered how to get through to the next question. My clear thinking was gone--without even a 'Dear John' letter. Every time I couldn't quite grasp something or it wasn't coming to me I thought, "Maybe I'm not really meant for graduate school". There were a few points where I almost couldn't take it anymore..but I kept going. I wouldn't quit this thing again, though, not like last year; never again will I allow that to happen.

I think my lack of sleep hurt that section the most. I barely composed myself in the minute of rest time until the third section--which could have been math or verbal. I was hoping for another math section, that maybe I'd just taken a weird wonko experimental math section that didn't mean shit.

The third section was another verbal. I was stuck with whatever math score I got. I did better on this second verbal section but, for about the last 4 questions, I didn't give much of a damn about what I put down. I was tired.

I finished.

I got my verbal and math scores back right then and there. Verbal I have to say is about on par with the grad schools I'm looking at. The quantitative was 20-40 points lower than I wanted. It's not abysmal, but it scraps (or floats just a little below) the bottom of the range for currently accepted students at U. Penn and UCLA. It's a decent enough score, mind you, but the middle of the range for accepted grad students has many people scoring near perfect. It's not at all easy for me to be mathematical under pressure. That's the only handicap I have in my whole portfolio, though. I think my ethnic status and research experience will compensate for the score. Still, it is potentially a minor to major handicap.

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I got back home and didn't feel in the least bit drained. Mom suggested I take the rest of the day off. I wanted to start on my reviewing for the psychology GRE...but stuff kept getting in the way. Eventually I just went with the flow and took care of some loose ends.

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So now the general GRE is finally over. I don't feel much about it. I'm mostly relieved and, I won't lie to you, slightly disappointed in myself; the good part is not being MAJORLY, fitfully upset to the point of taking away all of my privileges. Now I know what some of you are thinking and want to sign in my guestbook. But trust me, I'm familiar with the equation: Terribly high expectations + perfectionist nature + learning disorder + sub-consciously self-destructive tendencies = potential meltdown. However, it's who I am at the moment--and I gotta play it like that. Doing anything else isn't being true to what I feel.

To be realistic, really, I should have gotten Nyquil or drunk a 1/5th of bourbon to calm my nerves before going to sleep and waking to take the test. I tried fighting the self-destructive part of me with will alone and I partly succeeded--and partly failed. Gives this fucker pause for thought. Makes me wonder if I need to restart the inner Jyhad again.

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So now I've got 19-20 days to study for the GRE psychology subject test..but this is a test of facts, not aptitude. Unfortunately most review books on the market are complete crap for this test--and I bought two of 'em last year; it was with my research society's money, though, so eh.

Right now I plan on reading a few intro psychology books I've picked up. I never took a social or developmental psychology course so I'll be focusing on those two areas mostly.

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No new photographs. I did fantasize about killing my boss, though. It wasn't a terribly artistic fantasy, but then you go with what you've got and relish it.

Yeah, I'm a hypocrite, but I have a degree for it, so what's new...

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