I got my lit mitderm back..I did pretty freaking horrible. 85%. As in a B. What really kills me is that I forgot to recheck my exam before I passed it in because the day I did, Frank and I just had a really big fight and I was really heated when I came to class and checking my exam was the last thing on my mind. And so, I forgot to answer two questions that I skipped. Even though those two questions were only worth two points each, if I had answered them both correctly, that would have given me an 89%. And then, on one of the quote identifications...stupid me I was thinking 1000 steps ahead and wrote "This quote is from chapter 1 of Emerson's WALDEN, titled 'Nature' ". SHIT. I know. Thoreau wrote Walden not Emerson. Bad, stupid Lilith. Seriously, come on. What the hell was I thinking. That's such a...I don't even know...kindergarten mistake. No, not even. Pre-school. I should seriously go back to pre-K and learn how to read again. Because, God knows I'm not doing so well with it now. And then, probably the biggest fuckup of all, on the essay. I forgot to fact-check. I thought that Rowlandson was held captive for 11 months, so I wrote that it was a "nearly year long ordeal" (and yes, I'm aware that there should be a hyphen between year and long...I'm not even going to talk about how poorly written my quote ids and my essay were). Whoops. Rowlandson was only captive for a few months. That major screwup, added to the horribly amatur language and bare-bones analysis landed me a 19 out of 20 on the essay. If I hadn't been lazy, drunk and rushing when I wrote it, I may have gotten a 20 out of 20...thus giving me the extra point for a 90% which is an A. Yes, it's an A- but when the prof runs the numbers when she's figuring out the final grade every little point is going to matter.
I cant believe that a month from now is finals week. And then my first year of college will be over. Ugh. I can't even think about that. My finals are going to be the death of me. For terrorism and international relations, the prof's finals are just 50 multiple choice questions. And not only are they supposed to be bloody hard as hell but I don't test well (as just proven). I second guess myself and end up psyching myself out. And honistly, I would have done MUCH worse on my lit midterm if it wasnt take-home. I'm not an English person. I never learned any of the literary devices, save the really rudimentary ones like alliteration and metaphor. I have to look up all of the skemes and tropes constantly as well as the external literary references people make in class. I'm not that smart. And that class' final is probably going to be similar but with more quote identifications. I'm really not good at those. I mean, show me the quote and I'll recognize it but I most likely wont be able to tell you who wrote it or the importance of the quote. I'm just not that smart. At least for my comm class, the final is just on AP style and the prof is having us write leads and an evolving story. And the music final...whatever. That entire class is bullshit. Sorry if my school district has manditory music "appreciation" classes starting in kindergarten and that in addition I am classically trained.
Ugh. So I'm usually not a cry-er. I don't cry. I don't show any emotion. Tough as nails. Except I cried like four times today.
First, Ashur called me and yelled at me for not telling him Chandi was going to that party. Apparantly, although I've met the guy twice, don't live in NYC/NJ anymore, was down here and didn't know the blow was laced, it's my fault that I didn't protect Chandi. As if I need more people placing blame on me for her dying. It's already consuming me.
Second time was when I talked with mother. My credit didn't go through because she forgot to mail me my credit card bill for the last two months. So now I have late payments on my credit (which was barely acceptable before) and can't buy a car from a dealership to make payments on. Nor can I get a loan to help me throw down the cash for a used car off craigslist or anything. And if I don't have a car...I cant work in Vermont this summer. It's just not going to work. And I need to let my boss know definatly by Friday if I'm going to be there or not. I really dont want to have to tell him that I can't work with him. He's a really nice guy, as is everybody who works up there. I don't want to dissapoint him. And I was really counting on some away-time from all of the home drama to just sit out and write and vent and ruminate on what the hell I'm doing with my life. If I dont have a car, I'm going to either be stuck in Westfield or Montclair, waitressing or working retail (no offence to anyone who does that but I really am not a people person nor am I cool with taking, what would be, a MAJOR pay cut), taking two classes (math and lab) at community college and worst of all living at home. Right in the middle of two lawsuits and an adolecent boy. I haven't been at home for more than a week at a time since I was 13. I honistly don't think I can physically, mentally or emotionally deal with having to be at home for three months. Especially without a car. No freaking escape from any of it. Honistly, even thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach and makes me want to be very very very destructive. I am going to be as strong as I can, but there is a limit to how much one person can take.
Third time was really really stupid. These two girls who I used to be friends with last semester decided to start talking shit about me behind my back. Apparantly they didn't (or maybe they did) realise that everything said about someone in this school eventually gets back to them. And I trusted them and they seemed really genuine last semester. It takes a lot for me to trust people and just the fact that they went and told people I don't even know about things that I'm dealing with and spead really vicious rumors about me really really really stings. It makes me feel like I'm back in high school again. One of the reasons I went to a school where noone knew me was so I could start with a clean slate. Right now I feel like that was completly worthless. If people are going to say the same garbage about me regardless of where I am, then what's the point?
Fourth time was when I realized how petty and vain I am as well as the root for both. I was worrying about my nails chipping and my collarbones not being as good as they were last week when my friend told me she got kicked out of her house. Honistly, what the fuck was I thinking? She has to deal with real problems while I'm freaking out about how I look (not like anyone cares how I look to begin with). But then, I realized that I cannot control most of what is going on in my life right now (and has been going on for quite some time), so I convert all of that energy into focusing on what I can control. I can control my appearance and how I present myself to the world. I am tough as nails and the epitome of what an almost-20-year-old should be. Yeah right.
If they only knew...
Actually...I cried five times today. The last time was rediculous. I didn't realize the calories in a grande green tea latte made with regular milk and two pumps of melon. 270 calories. Yeah. I fucked up big time. And I had a diet Coke before, which isnt bad because it's 0 cals but still. And after I had a diet Rockstar which is 20 cals but I figure since it makes me so figity it's not that bad. But...worst of all...I had two of those little disgusting Peeps things. And a piece of dark chocolate. Albet, it was a small piece but still. What is wrong with me that I can't even do one day on a liquid fast without slipping up. So I had a bit of a major freakout when I found that out. I NEED perfection. Like in sculpture, physical perfection is attained not when there is nothing left to add, but nothing left to take away.
Make that six times...I just sliced my right pinkie finger. It's not that deep but it hurts and is bleeding. After everything...this is the last thing I need.
And, what really kills me is that I know I will never be perfect.
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