The One About My Psych Exam
My first year after high school was spent at Hudson Valley Community College in Troy, NY. Not my choice, but I was determined to make the best of it. I had wanted to go to away to college, but after some discussion with my parents we eventually came to the agreement that if I did well my first year there I could transfer somewhere else.
My original goal was to eventually end up working as a psychologist or some kind of doctor, and so this first year of college was spent in a lot of math, chemisty and, of course, psychology classes. They were all challenging in one way or another, and I studied hard. Really hard.
When mid-term time came around that fall, I was ready. A little nervous, as usual, about failing, but overall I was feeling pretty confident. The math was going to be the worst, I was sure of that, but thankfully my first major exam was going to be in Developmental Psych.
The exam was on a Monday and during the review in class on Friday, I'd gotten all the questions on the pop quiz right and a paper I'd written a few weeks before was handed back with a big fat A on it. I just glanced at my notes over the weekend, convinced that there wasn't much left for me to review.
In the past when I had to do something really important, and I needed to feel as confident as possible, I would dress up. And a college mid-term, even one I was sure I was going to ace, seemed like the sort of thing that could only benefit from something other than my usual jeans and a tshirt. I'd decided on wearing my favorite knee-high boots, some sheer black tights, a mid-thigh skirt and a sweater. When I left the house that morning, I felt like I could do just about anything right.
The exam had 3 parts: fill in the blank, multiple-choice, and an essay. I went through the whole thing pretty quickly and was one of the first people to finish. I took a little time to double check my answers, just in case, and handed the test in despite still having at least another hour to go. As I left the room, I turned back, waved goodbye to a friend of mine and wished her luck. She just grinned at me.
So, there I was, one mid-term successfully under my belt and the rest of the day to myself. As I walked across the campus to the parking lot, I was feeling a bit like a rock star. It was gorgeous out and there were students everywhere. People I didn't even know were smiling at me and waving. College, I thought, was turning out to be much better than high school.
I got to my car and opened the door. Getting in, I reached back to smooth down my skirt. Only, my skirt wasn't there. It was tangled up inside my sweater, leaving my backside completely exposed.
My original goal was to eventually end up working as a psychologist or some kind of doctor, and so this first year of college was spent in a lot of math, chemisty and, of course, psychology classes. They were all challenging in one way or another, and I studied hard. Really hard.
When mid-term time came around that fall, I was ready. A little nervous, as usual, about failing, but overall I was feeling pretty confident. The math was going to be the worst, I was sure of that, but thankfully my first major exam was going to be in Developmental Psych.
The exam was on a Monday and during the review in class on Friday, I'd gotten all the questions on the pop quiz right and a paper I'd written a few weeks before was handed back with a big fat A on it. I just glanced at my notes over the weekend, convinced that there wasn't much left for me to review.
In the past when I had to do something really important, and I needed to feel as confident as possible, I would dress up. And a college mid-term, even one I was sure I was going to ace, seemed like the sort of thing that could only benefit from something other than my usual jeans and a tshirt. I'd decided on wearing my favorite knee-high boots, some sheer black tights, a mid-thigh skirt and a sweater. When I left the house that morning, I felt like I could do just about anything right.
The exam had 3 parts: fill in the blank, multiple-choice, and an essay. I went through the whole thing pretty quickly and was one of the first people to finish. I took a little time to double check my answers, just in case, and handed the test in despite still having at least another hour to go. As I left the room, I turned back, waved goodbye to a friend of mine and wished her luck. She just grinned at me.
So, there I was, one mid-term successfully under my belt and the rest of the day to myself. As I walked across the campus to the parking lot, I was feeling a bit like a rock star. It was gorgeous out and there were students everywhere. People I didn't even know were smiling at me and waving. College, I thought, was turning out to be much better than high school.
I got to my car and opened the door. Getting in, I reached back to smooth down my skirt. Only, my skirt wasn't there. It was tangled up inside my sweater, leaving my backside completely exposed.
posted by m at 5:01 PM
9 Comments:
hope you had pretty underpants on!!
You know I didn't!
This is why I gave up wearing skirts.
During a mid-term? That's just another urban legend.
I wish it was an urban legend. Urban legends are a lot less embarrassing.
I love this blog! Write more, please!
Haha (laughing with you, not at you of course). That's funny, hope you had your pretty backside on that day. And yes, college is much, much better than high school, even when you inadvertently expose yourself. Or maybe because you did?
Totally love your blog!!! Just added you to my daily reading list. The one about the llama? Hi-larious! Actually all of them are. I'm eagerly awaiting your next post...
I agree with nilo. look forward to more.
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