Comprehensive Exams and Presents

I am siting up at the university in a room that smells vaguely of hamsters. The building is an old elementary school and I swear this had to have been the kinder wing! Im proctoring several students' (couple from Counseling, couple from Early Childhood and a couple from Reading), comprehensive exams. 5 questions, 5 hours, 5 essays. As I watch and feel the tension (One girl asked, "Can we use our notes, please?), I of course am reminded of my own. At UT they do each person's exams individually in a broom closet. Yes, Im serious. At a mulit million dollar, tier 1 university, their doctoral students are placed in a closet behind a laminating machine with nothing more than an old mac computer with Microsoft, blank paper, a pen, and your snack. I had ye old jolly ranchers, which was my addiction at the time. There, you are left, without a purse, without a way out to type everything you have learned about learning, reading, education, and life. So scary. And here, the cycle repeats and I, the guru in charge, sit watching their fate unfold. It's still scary. I hate high stakes tests, even though I have always done well. They are just so final, so decisive, so illusive.

In the middle of this 5 hour Hell, I met with another graduate student in Counseling about her thesis. Ive worked with her for about a year now. The cool part was that I got my first nice gift! I mean, students are thoughful here; one brings me a diet vanilla coke each time we meet, and I get an email here and there, but today this particular student brought me a wonderful necklace made by one of my favorite brands, LUCKY. She noticed my purse and wallet and knew it would be something I liked. So, my first nice gift from a student.

I spent yesterday making a final exam for my content area literacy class and waiting for my dad to drop by. He was attending my Uncle Ken's funeral in Corpus Christi and driving through San Antonio on his way back to Dallas. He finally got here about 5 and saw the house. I thought my dad was going to stay the night, as he said he was, but when he got here, he had decided not to. He didnt even stay for dinner. I was a bit heartbroken, I must admit. I mean, Ive lived here for a year and neither my mom or my dad had come. I guess I should know better, they didnt visit in Austin either. I wonder what they would do if they had grandchildren. Maybe it is always going to be up to me to get there, not them to come here. It is a racket of mine, I suppose.

So, last night I hung out at home with the doggies. I took Zoey into the front yard and played hose. She loves to chase it, barking, snarling, and getting completely soggy. If there werent any dang kitties, she could play without her leash, but alas, too many strays in my neighborhood. Of course, Mouser wouldnt even venture near the door because, "Oh, God, there is water!"