Right now, I am feeling the bee sting and I want to back away from the computer. Honey Badger tenacity should be easier to conjure. Somehow, I did conjur one bad honey badger mama to sit for the GRE. As usual, verbal was well above average. I can’t believe I got a 5 out of 6 on the Analytical writing portion. What?! Math, as expected was below average several percentiles. And, that undergraduate gpa–always below THE minimum. I’m just not sure I can compete with applicants who haven’t had the AlpHaBeT soup of undiagnosed “disabilities” during their undergraduate careers. I know *crymeariver*, Honey Badger don’t give a &^&%^5; while, I still feel the need to say “Why can’t we all just get along?”. Chaos doesn’t fit in a box. The creativity cannot be contained.
I’m feeling like a goldfish these days. I think it took me 20 minutes just to get the goldfish pic in this post. It has been forever since I wrote here and I’ve been missing it. I have been doing lots of writing for other projects. I was in the middle of writing two admissions essays <INSERT: Nails on CHalkBoarD> when ThaT school decided to not accept prerequisites if they were more than 10 years old (even if they were part of a degree). So, I decided to apply to a school that didn’t require a GRE score. It took some time for me to recover from the realization of how much it would cost– in both time and money– to take those credits over. Mostly the money freaked me out but my dh is not so happy about the time. Off I go starting a prep course next week–to reopen my school options. Perhaps it is for the best. I haven’t had a challenge like this in a while. I used the goldfish as an illustration because I’ve become a rabid geek-fan of the BBC’s Sherlock. And everyone except the Holmes Boys are goldfish. Oh, but aren’t we so endearing and sentimental. And of course the Holmes boys would both get a perfect score on the GRE.
So, back to Sherlock. I would really love to have a ‘mind palace’ accessible to me during my high stakes standardized test. I took some pictures of my house and am going to try and overlay some of my study material on them. We shall see how that goes. I keep forgetting to write/ type on the pictures. I’ve really been squeeing over the props and decor on Sherlock, specifically the black and white wallpapered/ spraypainted wall. That wall gets shot at in one of the episodes because Sherlock is bored. That is one of my favorite scenes.
i’ve been busy lately studying for the GRE and trying to figure out a way I can get some extra time on the test without paying for a full Learning Disabilities evaluation. I might have found it.
My first pass through and review of the GRE math material is completed. On to attacking GRE vocabulary (see title). i started making my very own word searches through Discovery’s website. </me a geek>
The pool was fun today and kiddo can actually swim a few yards by herself in water over her head!
Loving this poem: thanks Daisy and Irene for pointing this out to me!
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
My Grandfather’s Blessings by Rachel Naomi Remen
from Belonging p197
True service is not a relationship between expert and problem; it is far more genuine than that. It is a relationship between people who bring the full resources of their combined humanity to the table and share them generously. Service goes beyond expertise. Service is another way of life.
Should I live to be very old, I expect that I will not remember the times when I was ‘cool’ but will be warmed only by the times I cared passionately, risked everything to make a difference, and knew who I was.