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No. 2 Pencils only

First day of a standardized test for my sophomores, ah, that brings back the memories. Hunched over a desk, painful indentations in the side of you finger, and the little bubbles you had to fill in perfectly or garner eternal-damnation. Those were the times.

As I’m reading the directions to my seventh period class, there is a constant stream of reiteration playing in my head from my own standardized tests in elementary school. I kept on thinking, “Wuzzle means to mix” “Balu is a bear”.

I remember those distinctly as the preamble to a set of questions, such as, “what does wuzzle mean?”

Why do the tentacle of long past memories dangle on like that? Is there a purpose those images will serve?

Well, see… now I have Tail Spin stuck in my head.

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Crazy, but that’s how it goes?

I was hoping for something a little bit more cool in appearance, a disorder with a little panache:

Disorder

Rating

Paranoid:

Low

Schizoid:

Low

Schizotypal:

Low

Antisocial:

Low

Borderline:

Low

Histrionic:

High

Narcissistic:

Low

Avoidant:

Low

Dependent:

Moderate

Obsessive-Compulsive:

Moderate


— Personality Disorder Test – Take It! —

My High:
Histrionic
People with histrionic personality disorder are constant attention seekers. They need to be the center of attention all the time, often interrupting others in order to dominate the conversation. They use grandiose language to discribe everyday events and seek constant praise. They may dress provacatively or exaggerate illnesses in order to gain attention. They also tend to exaggerate friendships and relationships, believing that everyone loves them. They are often manipulative. (I don’t agree with the last one)

My Moderates:
Dependent
Dependent personality disorder is characterized by a need to be taken care of. People with this disorder tend to cling to people and fear losing them. They may become suicidal when a break-up is imminent. They tend to let others make important decisions for them and often jump from relationship to relationship. They often remain in abusive relationships. They are overly sensitive to disapproval. They often feel helpless and depressed.

Obsessive-Compulsive
Obsessive-Compulsive personality disorder is similar to obsessive-compulsive anxiety disorder. People with this disorder are overly focused on orderliness and perfection. Their need to do everything “right” often interferes with their productivity. They tend to get caught up in the details and miss the bigger picture. They set unreasonably high standards for themselves and others, and tend to be very critical of others when they do not live up to these high standards. They avoid working in teams, believing others to be too careless or incompetent. They avoid making decisions because they fear making mistakes and are rarely generous with their time or money. They often have difficulty expressing emotion.
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Castle walls just lead me to despair

So a certain Oregon department, that should remain nameless, is stupid. For those non-teacher people, there is a battery of expensive and ridiculous tests– especially in their score expectations. Well, I took the English test almost a year and a half ago, sadly, I missed the expected score by 2 points. Disappointing, yes… but I’ve always been bad at taking tests. Two months ago, I retook the test, passing it this time. Three days after I received my passing score I receive and email from my program saying that that unnamed Oregon department has lowered their score expectations– making it so that my first test score is now considered passing. This is a big (though not totally bad) frustration. A $200 frustration. I should have waited to retake the test. But as Jess put it, “if you had waited to take the test again, the needed score wouldn’t have been dropped.” I agree.

I’m the first person I know to fail a test, then retroactively pass it a year and a half later. Life is funny.

I’ll be a good boy… from now on

It has been a long while since I’ve written here, in my defense, winter term was the hardest/ most intense/ most stressful term I have ever had. Through a battery of tests (PRAXIS I, GRE, PRAXIS II, MAT), a full schedule of classes, sixty hours of working at Edison, and working at Carson–I was everywhere but where I wanted to be. However, because of last term I think that I do best when my time is taken up… by some grace, I actually got two A’s this term. I find this astounding as I am notoriously a B (if I’m lucky) student. Of course the courses I did well in where SPED classes, but that just leads to my next point: rejection! I started off my spring break with a letter saying that I didn’t make the cut for the graduate program in Special Education. Oh well, I think I was naive to expect to have a chance at one of the top school in the nation. I am still waiting to hear about the Middle/Secondary Grad program–if that falls through, it should get interesting (read that as: I’ll be mowing lawns). I’m stuck between a rock and apathy… not getting in would put me in a pinch, but at the same time, what does it matter? At worst it would just delay my plans. Oh well.

In other news: my spring break was very good. I was in the car for well over 1,200 miles. I think I have a permanent imprint of my wallet. First I went to Hoodriver for the wedding of my RA from my freshman year. It was a nice wedding, it was good to see Bowlby after a couple of years. The reception was in the Columbia Gorge Hotel, which was amazing. The only bad thing about going to the wedding was that Jessica couldn’t come with, she loves weddings–especially the reception.

The next day, my dad and I drove down to Ashland. It was great just to talk and listen to music. Once we got to Ashland, I got see my dad’s old dorm rooms. He told me stories of his college days, I am somewhat disappointed, because his stories makes my college days seen pale. Overall, it was a very fun time, I definitely don’t hang out with my dad as much I would like to, but the tripped assured me that if my dad and I were the same age, I’d probably would have hung out with him.

After a few days back at my parent’s house, seeing family, roto-tilling, and watching tv, my family (the four of us, not our whole family) drove to Victoria, B.C., in my younger days my family would go to British Columbia every summer to camp. We saw various different spots where we used to camp, or the bakery we used to go to (best baked goods, ever), and the beach where we used to go clamming. Of course this induced tears, not mine–my mom’s, I do have to admit that it does feel weird to see these spots from a new angle (and I don’t mean because I am taller). It brought back a lot of good memories about going Canada, even though some of them did involve fires, drunks, and stolen toys. It is weird to realize that I have grown up, I can’t be bathed in the Prince William Sound any more. The perspective has changed but the boy hasn’t.