Points of Interest
Okay. As you all know, I've been on edge lately regarding my PRAXIS II scores. Just to recap, I need a 168 on CIA and 150 on FS:CK. The first test was on material I've learned very little about in my time at Rowan. So you can see how I'd be nervous, considering that failure of either part of this exam means no fellowship, which means no grad school, which means no job, which means no money, which means disaster. Anyway...now that we've recapped that. I've been trying not to think about it this week, but it's hard not to. I had a nightmare last night that I passed one section but failed the other. It was dreadfully realistic, and, as most of my nightmares end up becoming reality, I woke up in an unparalleled state of panic. According to the ETS PRAXIS website, the scores wouldn't be available by phone until tomorrow at the earliest. But considering my frenzy, I had to check. I shot out of bed, looked up the phone number, and called. I figured they would tell me I'd have to call back tomorrow, but they didn't. After I gave them my social security number and my testing date, the computerized voice said, "We have located the record for your April 2006 exam. Would you like to hear your scores?"
Before we finish talking about all that, let's recap the week so far. Monday my father stayed home from work because his homemade RV collapsed on the highway Sunday. Don't ask. If you know my father you'll think nothing of this. Anyway, we went to happy hour at Landmark for beer and wings. Of all the things I miss about my mother, one of the things I miss most is her ability to keep him from becoming a dirty old man when he's tipsy and there are hot girls around. Nothing makes for a more awkward dinner conversation than when your father asks you "take a look at that ass." The poor bastard means well, he just doesn't know how to act in public. This is a notice to all of you who have middle aged fathers: make your mother leave you instructions on how to deal with them, just incase something happens. Having a newly single, mentally unstable, socially disgraceful, and mildly racist 54 year old man live with you is by far the most difficult challenge you could imagine. After Landmark we went to watch the boys. Which meant he fell asleep in the recliner and I got to watch the boys by myself. They are about two and a half now, and they are TERRIBLE. Knowing them as I do confirms my decision not to procreate unless absolutely necessary. I will say though, I handle them very well. I would even say that they listen to me better than they do their own parents sometimes. I developed a method. I get down in their little faces and make them look my in the eye when I tell them something. It's the only way to make sure they're listening. Otherwise they just look like they're listening but they're really just plotting a new way to climb the kitchen counter or they're considering dropping their pants in the living room at the next opportunity. I often wonder how I learned to handle this kind of behavior so well, but I think spending a lot of time with Sue and Maria really trained me for dealing with people who can't sit still and hate wearing pants.
Tuesday my father, Bryan, and I packed up the last of my stuff from Normal and brought it home. It was weird to see the room empty for the first time in two and a half years. Later that day I went back to grab my speakers and the rest of my posters. I found the remains of a bottle of Riesling I had opened about a month ago. I just sat in the empty room and killed what was left of the wine, reflecting on all the good(and bad) times I had in that place. I wrote Crappily Ever After in that room. I laughed there, cried there, drank there, worked there. It's sad to leave, but it could never be the same there again. Normal is over. It's sad, but it had to end sometime. I'll be moving on to bigger and better things soon enough. Unless I fail that PRAXIS II...
So, yesterday I drove up to Sean's in TR. We had a little bit of a cookout and then a Lost season finale party. I'm very into Lost. Last night's episode was amazing. I won't spoil anything here, but I will say that Maria's mother's theory proved to be correct and to hell with all who laughed at it. I will also say this, I miss Sean and Cakes. Gen, too. Of course, I miss Christian most of all. And Pete. I think most of my favorite senior year memories are from 518 watching Lost, Earl, and The Office. I love good friends, good food, and good TV.
I got home late last night because there is no easy way to get to the Parkway from Rosenhayn. I ended up playing a little New Super Mario Bros. for the Nintendo DS(AWESOME game by the way) and then just crashing. Then I had my nightmare. Despite all of the nonsense and good times I'd been having all week, I couldn't escape these feelings of dread. Because as much fun as it is to be able to go to happy hour whenever you want or drive two hours to have a hamburger and watch TV, eventually it has to end, and you have to get back to doing something important. Being an adult(which supposedly I am now) means I have to be productive. If I fail the PRAXIS II, it's not the end of the world, but it means I'd have to find a real job. I'd have to give up on good times for a while, and toil away earning cash to keep my head above water. Of course, if I pass the PRAXIS II, I won't have to look for a job, because I'll have one. But at the same time, being a Philadelphia Teaching Fellow would be hard work and would mean a whole new set of commitments. Both sides have their pros and cons, but it doesn't matter because the whole thing is out of my hands anyway. It was out of my hands the minute I closed that test booklet in Newark and handed it in. Now my fate is up to a number. Two numbers, really. It's a point either way. One point on either test means the difference between making $40,000 a year, having full medical, dental, and vision, and discounted tuition at UPenn or working at Enterprise Rent-A-Car or some other hell hole for next to nothing and just trying to survive. One point.
"We have located the record for your April 2006 exam. Would you like to hear your scores? Press one for yes."
1
"For Curriculum, Instruction, and Assessment, your score is 182. To continue, press one."
1
"For Fundamental Subjects: Content Knowledge, your score is 199. To continue, press one."
1
"You have passed both tests for the State of Pennsylvania."
Before we finish talking about all that, let's recap the week so far. Monday my father stayed home from work because his homemade RV collapsed on the highway Sunday. Don't ask. If you know my father you'll think nothing of this. Anyway, we went to happy hour at Landmark for beer and wings. Of all the things I miss about my mother, one of the things I miss most is her ability to keep him from becoming a dirty old man when he's tipsy and there are hot girls around. Nothing makes for a more awkward dinner conversation than when your father asks you "take a look at that ass." The poor bastard means well, he just doesn't know how to act in public. This is a notice to all of you who have middle aged fathers: make your mother leave you instructions on how to deal with them, just incase something happens. Having a newly single, mentally unstable, socially disgraceful, and mildly racist 54 year old man live with you is by far the most difficult challenge you could imagine. After Landmark we went to watch the boys. Which meant he fell asleep in the recliner and I got to watch the boys by myself. They are about two and a half now, and they are TERRIBLE. Knowing them as I do confirms my decision not to procreate unless absolutely necessary. I will say though, I handle them very well. I would even say that they listen to me better than they do their own parents sometimes. I developed a method. I get down in their little faces and make them look my in the eye when I tell them something. It's the only way to make sure they're listening. Otherwise they just look like they're listening but they're really just plotting a new way to climb the kitchen counter or they're considering dropping their pants in the living room at the next opportunity. I often wonder how I learned to handle this kind of behavior so well, but I think spending a lot of time with Sue and Maria really trained me for dealing with people who can't sit still and hate wearing pants.
Tuesday my father, Bryan, and I packed up the last of my stuff from Normal and brought it home. It was weird to see the room empty for the first time in two and a half years. Later that day I went back to grab my speakers and the rest of my posters. I found the remains of a bottle of Riesling I had opened about a month ago. I just sat in the empty room and killed what was left of the wine, reflecting on all the good(and bad) times I had in that place. I wrote Crappily Ever After in that room. I laughed there, cried there, drank there, worked there. It's sad to leave, but it could never be the same there again. Normal is over. It's sad, but it had to end sometime. I'll be moving on to bigger and better things soon enough. Unless I fail that PRAXIS II...
So, yesterday I drove up to Sean's in TR. We had a little bit of a cookout and then a Lost season finale party. I'm very into Lost. Last night's episode was amazing. I won't spoil anything here, but I will say that Maria's mother's theory proved to be correct and to hell with all who laughed at it. I will also say this, I miss Sean and Cakes. Gen, too. Of course, I miss Christian most of all. And Pete. I think most of my favorite senior year memories are from 518 watching Lost, Earl, and The Office. I love good friends, good food, and good TV.
I got home late last night because there is no easy way to get to the Parkway from Rosenhayn. I ended up playing a little New Super Mario Bros. for the Nintendo DS(AWESOME game by the way) and then just crashing. Then I had my nightmare. Despite all of the nonsense and good times I'd been having all week, I couldn't escape these feelings of dread. Because as much fun as it is to be able to go to happy hour whenever you want or drive two hours to have a hamburger and watch TV, eventually it has to end, and you have to get back to doing something important. Being an adult(which supposedly I am now) means I have to be productive. If I fail the PRAXIS II, it's not the end of the world, but it means I'd have to find a real job. I'd have to give up on good times for a while, and toil away earning cash to keep my head above water. Of course, if I pass the PRAXIS II, I won't have to look for a job, because I'll have one. But at the same time, being a Philadelphia Teaching Fellow would be hard work and would mean a whole new set of commitments. Both sides have their pros and cons, but it doesn't matter because the whole thing is out of my hands anyway. It was out of my hands the minute I closed that test booklet in Newark and handed it in. Now my fate is up to a number. Two numbers, really. It's a point either way. One point on either test means the difference between making $40,000 a year, having full medical, dental, and vision, and discounted tuition at UPenn or working at Enterprise Rent-A-Car or some other hell hole for next to nothing and just trying to survive. One point.
"We have located the record for your April 2006 exam. Would you like to hear your scores? Press one for yes."
1
"For Curriculum, Instruction, and Assessment, your score is 182. To continue, press one."
1
"For Fundamental Subjects: Content Knowledge, your score is 199. To continue, press one."
1
"You have passed both tests for the State of Pennsylvania."