I Survived my AP Exam

Woo!

On Wednesday, I took my first AP test. And... I survived. I know this blog post is coming a little (or a lot) late after I took the test, but I've been so busy since then that I haven't had that much to do anything, much less write here. 

 

It wasn't nearly as hard as I thought that it would be. Granted, all of my issues over the AP and its objectives are still present. But I managed to do just fine. 

 

As much as I would love to discuss the specific of the test here, I can't do that. I can, however, discuss what the test was like for me. 

I knew that I would do well on the multiple choice test. I had practiced extensively with them and I've done very well on them. I was able to answer the vast majority of answers, and since there isn't a guessing penalty on the AP, I guessed on the rest (but even that wasn't a totally blind guess, as I was usually able to narrow it down). 

 

What I was really worried about were the essays. I could practice with essays from the past and review different time periods, but, since I didn't know the essays for sure, I went into that test blind. 

 

The DBQ (an essay prompt with documents you have to use as evidence), fortunately, was totally easy. The documents helped, but I could have done it without the documents. The regular free-response essays were harder, but I think I did okay. I had to write two essays, but I got to choose those two out of four (although one was on the Reaganomics and my class hadn't gotten there). Being forced to write without a break for two hours, my hand was cramping to the point where I feared I had gotten carpal tunnel and my brain was mush, but I was alive. 

 

If it was just multiple choice, I would get a five, but, with the essays, I think I got a four. I wasn't nearly as ill-prepared for this AP as I was afraid I might be. 

 

I have no idea what the other APs are like. Hopefully, they'll be even easier than this. Being as I'm taking two other AP tests next year, they should end up just the same. Hopefully, having gone through the ropes already, it will be less scary. Personally, I think the overall class was harder than the test, which made me more prepared for the AP. 

 

I'm just glad to have made it out alright this time around. 

 

Prepping for the AP Exam

Dun dun dun DUN... At the moment, I feel like my life has the Jaws soundtrack playing in the background. That's because my AP exam is fast approaching, and I feel incredibly nervous about it. I've been studying, but it doesn't feel like nearly enough. AP US is the first AP 

Mainly, I've been going to AP review sessions that my class and I've also been practicing different past essays. I'm not worried about the multiple choice, but the essays scare me. 

How am I supposed to worry about all of the complicated intricacies of different periods of history? It just seems impossible and so frustrating. I'm great with World War I onward, but before that, I'm a little shaky, especially on the colonial era. I've been trying to touch up on that, but my efforts don't seem good enough. I'm worried that my studying is all in vain. 

Perhaps this goes back to the flaw of the AP test, how it is supposed to be this one test to gauge everything that you learned throughout the entire year. Shouldn't my grades in the class speak to that? Apparently not. AP classes are set up to help you take this entire test, which in turn are somehow supposed to set you up for college. Maybe the whole thing is kind of flawed. I feel like there's so much pressure to be in as many APs as possible, and that just makes this even scarier. 

Either way, I'm still taking the test Wednesday whether I like it or not. Ugh.

 

 

Knitting

I've recently learned the incredibly useful skill of knitting. Thanks to a workshop I took at my school, I have become addicted to knitting almost, determined to master the skill. Admittedly, I can only do the most basic knit stitch right now, which means that I can pretty much only do a scarf right now. Still, I'm definitely enjoying knitting.

 

I know that knitting is associated with a bunch of old cat ladies, but this stereotype is entirely unfounded. People of all demographics enjoy knitting equally. It is actually a lot of fun. 

 

Knitting has been an interesting skill to learn. Admittedly, it was pretty frustrating at first. Knitting is a skill best learned by sight, example and practice and it's difficult to learn it any other way. I watched the knitting teachers knit over and over again, and for a while, I didn't get it. At first, I didn't understand the basic cast-on through the finger method, but then it just clicked. After that, I was determined to understand the rest, realizing that the rest of knitting was in my reach. 

So far, I have learned how to do the knit stitch and am currently working on a scarf. Before that, I had to learn how to knit, even on the first couple of rows (which are tighter than the resulting rows). I had to get the method just right, and before that, I had messed up (I put the needle from the right side instead of the left side). This required me having to undo a lot of rows and it was frustrating. Even when I did get it, I would drop a lot of stitches and I haven't learned yet how to fix it. But now I've gotten it. The scarf looks really awkward at first, but I have definitely improved. 

My work so far

There are still so many things I want to learn. I want to learn the purl stitch and the combination of rows of knit and purl stitches that can lead to bigger designs. I want to learn how to fix a dropped stitch. I want to learn how to make hats, scarves, mittens, even sweaters. I want to learn how to crochet as well, because I feel like that would be cool too. Knitting has unleashed this determined, obsessive part of me. 

 

When I was still learning how to knit, I was incredibly frustrated. I couldn't seem to get the hang of it. Yet the more frustrated I became, the more motivated I became as well. The little victories that I had were enough to push me on. 

 

And so I learn. I'm still learning. Knitting is actually quite relaxing and there's this lovely sense that I'm being productive and getting something done. 

 

It might be springtime now, but it will be winter soon. Hopefully, I can practice my knitting some more over the summer, so by the time that winter comes, it can serve a purpose. For now, I just have to finish that scarf.

 

 

I Miss Writing

More often than not, I'm not able to write or I'm not able to write more than a few sentences. It's rare that I've been able to write for long periods of time like I used to in the past. And I miss it. It's almost like a part of me has been missing from not writing. Yes, I've been able to write poetry, but I haven't been able to write that much prose and I especially haven't been able to write that many blog posts either (as any readers here may or may not have noticed).

It's like a craving that pops up at random times. So often I just want to write and write and write, but there's just always another class for me to go to or other obligations for me to go to. So I'm forced to attend to those. On the weekend, there's always something for me to do as well, which is incredibly frustrating.

 

Writing is such a huge part of who I am that I feel such a hole without it in my life. I definitely need to find an outlet for these urges some more, but I don't know when to find it. There just seems like there's always something else to do.

There just doesn't seem to be enough time for everything that I want to do. Even on the weekend, time races away from me and it's Monday right before I know it. It's incredibly frustrating. 

At the very least, I'm still finding that I'm able to read. That's something. 

Still, I long for summer. Maybe in the summertime, I'll be able to catch up on everything. 

I wish...

Self-Love and Self-Hatred

I can't remember when I started hating myself. Self-hatred is one of those things that happen in little stages, subtle shifts in thinking that you don't even notice until it adds up to something significant.

I never really quite loved myself, I know that. I never looked at myself and felt the same stirrings I felt for those that I cared about. At best, my thoughts towards myself have been neutral. From time to time, I have tried a "fake it 'til I make it" mentality, but, contrary to what so many seem to suggest, it never worked. I only got better at faking it, but never any better at loving myself. At the very least, being neutral about yourself allows you to last a day without having to be reminded about the state of your being and how truly awful it is.

There are some people who seem to exude this natural confidence from Day 1. No matter what life throws at them, they get right back up. In the face of crisis, they're like grass blowing in the wind: they get tossed around a little bit, but they always spring right back up and stay put. I've always seemed to turn everything into hurricanes (no, I think I'm just one big hurricane myself). Maybe they're just naturals at the Art of Bluffing It, but maybe some of them are actually naturals at loving themselves too. Either way, I envy them.

I don't even know what loving yourself even means, and how it's supposed to manifest. I know that narcissism isn't actually self-love, but arrogance masking deep insecurity. I thought I had, but I didn't.

Maybe self-love is one of those things that happens to you when you stop looking for it. Sometimes, for me, it seems that I get things after I've stopped actively seeking them. I'm not sure; I've been actively seeking this for a while, and I don't want to just stop. I'm not entirely sure of what to do. Maybe I should be happy with the way things are.

It did take a lot of hard work to stop utterly loathing myself and develop more neutral feelings for myself. I had to break a lot of bad habits towards myself. I had developed a habit of bullying myself in a way of a sort of emotional self-harm (along with the occasional physical self-harm). That made me feel better, because it gave me a place to lash out, a way to release my frustration. But I realized that if I was going to feel better, this would only make me worse. I had to stop. It was incredibly difficult to do, because I had made this a way of life and bullying myself became an automatic reflex. I had to replace those bullying thoughts with kinder thoughts. I realized that I couldn't be my own best friend overnight, but I thought that if I wouldn't say/do these sorts of things to someone else when I made mistakes, then I shouldn't be doing them to me either.

A friend told me last week that she was impressed by how confident I seemed, how comfortable with myself I was. Have I mastered the Art of Bluffing It? Perhaps I have, perhaps not according to the untrained eye. But the truth is I still care about what other people think of me, that if I don't have any friends, I start feeling like there's a reason I don't have any friends. I've only been friends with her for a short while, but still.

At the very least, I can say that I don't hate myself anymore. Logically, I know that there are good qualities about myself and I'm generally a pretty cool person, even if I don't actually feel that I am emotionally. I might yearn to be like others, but I at least acknowledge that I don't really need to.  I see myself in the way that I would see an acquaintance.

Black-and-White Thinking

All too often I think and act in extremes. That much, I know, and accept. I'm either all in or all out. I've been trying to see things in more balanced terms, but my old way of thinking comes back more often than not as a sort of automatic reflex. It's a black-and-white way of thinking that I can't do anything about.

I become obsessed or I become apathetic. I know it's unhealthy to think this way, but I can't help it really. I'm all focused on something or I'm not focused on it at all.

Not only do I think in black-and-white terms like "This is my life" or "I don't care at all about this", but I so often use black-and-white thinking in everything else as well. 

 

Life is so much more complicated in ambiguity that it feels so much safer to think this way, so much easier. To judge everyone this way, to classify. The world is more definite, more sure, so I'm more sure in my reactions. Less hesitant. 

 

It's so much easier to make decisions that way too, because when I think in black-and-white terms, there aren't too many decisions to make. There's only about two, maybe a few more, but nothing all that much really. Sometimes, I feel like it means I'm less likely to make mistakes that way, but that's not necessarily true. 

The truth is that I know that this sort of black-and-white thinking takes away so many opportunities from me, blinds me to so many wonderful things. When I allow myself to see in all different shades, I realize this. But sometimes habit and fear brings me right back to this black-and-white thinking and I'm stuck back right where I was before, sent right back at square one.

So often, this makes me stubborn. I'm so caught up in this kind of thinking that it's the only way I can see things. Of course I cling to it, especially if I believe it so strongly. In those moments, I'm usually too irrational to do anything else.

Yet sometimes I have moments of rationality.
 

I know this is a very human mistake, but I feel like I have it worse than other people sometimes. A lot of people make it. It's quite annoying and sometimes even embarrassing. But it is what it is, I suppose. 

 

Prom

Last night was my very first prom. I didn't know quite what I was supposed to expect there, but I tried to go there with an open mind. To my surprise, I actually had a lot of fun. I didn't think that dancing would be my thing, but I enjoyed it. 

I spent most of the afternoon getting dolled up. This meant getting my hair, makeup and nails done, as well as getting my eyebrows waxed. It was a lot of fun and I felt like a queen. I thought this would be my favorite part, but it wasn't. 

Then came the photography part. My parents photographed me in essentially every manner possible and then photographed my date and I in every manner possible once we got to the banquet hall. I have to admit, I was absolutely giddy over the corsage he gave me; it matched great with my dress. 

Originally, I was supposed to go with my boyfriend, but when he broke up with me, I had to find someone else to go with. Luckily, I'm good friends with my chemistry partner and he agreed to go with me as a favor. 

I think I had more fun with him and everyone else than I would have if I went with my (now ex) boyfriend, so maybe it was better off. We came to prom a little early, but that was okay because we got to hang out. Then we met up with our other friends, and that was nice. The dinner was a little too light for my liking, but it tasted wonderful. I was seated at the same table as my ex, but it wasn't as bad as I was afraid that it might be. 

After everyone ate, the banquet opened up the dance floor. And it was great! I'm an awkward dancer, but so were a lot of other people, so it was fine. I just let loose and let myself have fun. I even slow-danced once with my date, although it was awkward because he's so tall I had trouble reaching his shoulders (he's 6'6"). So the dancing was my favorite part, even though it was the part I dreaded most originally. 

My school is nice and small, so everyone (even the underclassmen) got to go. It seems like a lot of prom is about stupid drama and girls fighting each other to have the best dress, but this wasn't like that at all. 

When I left, they were giving out roses. I was actually really sad to leave, though, even though I was tired.