Testing My Patience...

As some of my faithful readers may or may not have known, over the past few months I have been studying for the GMAT in order to potentially "turn back the clock" and assume the role of a fulltime student once again. After endless hours of studying, taking numerous seemingly worthless 3 hour courses, and choosing "c" on multiple choice-driven practice answers based solely upon the fact that it's my favorite letter between A-E, I finally took the test last Saturday. However, as is typical with stories involving me, it wasn't so cut-and-dry. Here's the story of why I almost MISSED the GMAT (via timestamp). Enjoy.

9:00-11:15 AM Wake up bright and early (for me) and do a little last-minute cramming while treating myself to a little Sportscenter (it had been a looong time) and some freshly cut pineapple.

11:15-11:30 AM Shower, brush teeth, boring. While in shower, I decide that since it's SO hot outside (about 95 degrees with extremely high humidity), I will ride my bicycle to my 12:30 PM test. This way, I believe I will not only spend less time in the summer heat, but I may even catch a breeze to cool me down a bit.

11:45 AM After "Drooke Dreltzman,"* my roommate/girlfriend leaves the apartment to head out to lunch with a friend, I play with the dog we are dogsitting in an attempt to relax and achieve a zen-like approach to the test.

11:50 AM As I was told numerous times to arrive at the testing center 30 minutes early, I head out to the backyard to hop on my bike and prepare for my 3 min ride to the testing center.

11:51 AM While in the backyard, quickly realize that I forgot the key to open the door to the gate in my backyard "terrace." I head back to the backdoor to retrieve the key.

11:52 AM While trying to open the backdoor, I suddenly realize that I don't have a key to the backdoor either. At this point, I become aware of the fact that I am trapped in my own backyard....

11:53 AM In the midst of sweat beginning to pool onto my forehead, I begin making phone calls to everyone I know within a half-mile radius of my apartment. This includes Drooke Dreltman (8-12 times, depending on if you include hangups), "Flon Flyder," "Reg Roucher," "Krate Kroucher," and my landlord, "Greff" a few times. Pacing is involved, as are questions of how I may be able to hop a 10 foot fence (or dig under said fence) in order to create an escape route.

12:10 PM Resigned with the fact that (I had already gone through each of the stages of loss, including denial, anger, and sadness) I would be missing the GMAT test, I attempt to come up with an answer to the question "Why didn't you take the GMAT today," because I know that "I decided to lock myself in my own backyard terrace" was not really gonna work. My final resolution? Just don't say anything...

12:20 PM SUCCESS! "Greff," my landlord, listened to his voicemail and comes home and unlocks the back door, freeing me from my makeshift holding cell. I run up through the house (patting the dog's head for good luck), head outside, and begin my sprint up Berkeley Street to the testing center...in my flip flops...in 95 degree heat.

12:26 PM I arrive at the test center with 4 minutes to spare!! Unfortunately, my clothes have taken a turn for the worse. My shirt is entirely soiled with sweat, rivaling that of Kevin Youkilis in a day game, I'm dripping sweat onto the paperwork which needs to be signed beforehand to verify my identity, and I'm panting much like the dog I'm sitting had been all day earlier, all direct effects of my flip-flop sprint in 90+ degree heat. The employee at the testing center takes one look at me, shakes her head, and says "I don't even wanna know....".

All in all, the test went generally how I expected it would go. My score was expected, and not great by any means (barely qualifying as "good"), but at least I surpassed my own expectations a bit. Not that I believe my score would have improved, but sweating profusely, tardiness, and borderline physical exhaustion aren't exactly at the tip of anyone's tongue when the phrase "ideal testing conditions" comes to mind.

Just another Saturday, I guess....

* Note: all names have been changed to protect the identities of the persons involved in this story.

"Extreme Contesting"

After a short hiatus, Just What you Expected has returned...I can't guarantee a new blog entry every day, nor can I even guarantee a new entry every week, but the people have spoken - they want just what they expected. As the great Bruce Dickinson would say (when not piloting a plane for Icelandair): "I need more cowbell!" In an effort to produce more content, I'll try to be a little less picky in my blog subjects, and a bit more efficient while wearing both my "writer's" hat and my "editor's" hat.

This weekend, while I was down in NYC drinking, eating, and sweating in celebration of a certain college friend's bachelor party, my parents were at a summer bbq outing at the Hampton Yacht Club near Hampton Beach, NH (those familiar with Hampton, my mother said it had a "fantastic view" of the Seabrook, NH nuclear power plant...which is nice). When questioned as to what this bbq was in connection with, my mother matter-of-factly answered "It was for your father's little contest club." I figured this would be a great opportunity to enlighten my readers about this fascinating sub-culture known as the "contest winners club," and I would go as far to say that my comments and thoughts are only the beginning of what could be a tremendous study of such a strange group of people.

In an attempt to keep this entry relatively short, I'll provide a few things about the "Contest Club" to allow you to get a better impression:

-The club meets every summer for a "summer outing," and apparently there is a "convention" held annually in which all the local chapters of the club congregate in one spot to profess their love of entering contests.

-When asked what the club discusses during said meetings, my mother stated "they usually just stand up and tell everyone which contests they entered and what they won since the last meeting." How this is entertaining to anyone, I'm still not sure. I would imagine there is a significant amount of clapping during this stage of the meeting.

-The club consists mostly of middle age housewives...and my father. Though my mother did state that 4 men in total were at this particular outing, she could not confirm the sexual orientation of the other men. She did, however, note that she was in fact the "only non-member to attend the meeting." Apparently, the husbands of these members have other engagements during these meetings. Can you see my "shocked" face?

-As one would guess, I believe there are also contests which take place during the meeting, but I could not confirm this. I also could not confirm cost of the meeting and/or membership in this "elite" club....mainly because my mother was on her lunch break, and I wanted to get this blog entry out sooner rather than later. This isn't the New York Times, folks...

Don't get me wrong, my father has been extremely successful in his contest winning - we're talking about trips to Disney World, $500 gas cards, Red Sox tickets/jerseys, even a Harley Davidson Fatboy motorcycle, complete with flames on the side (I wish I had access to the picture of my dad on the hog, but the one I found will have to do...I picked this partially due to my love of mullets and jorts, and partially due to the strange manner in which each person touches the bike with only their thumb). But should he be embarrassed about this hobby (read: addiction)? In my eyes: absolutely.

This is not just a hobby to the man, it's a life pursuit. The mere announcement of a contest gets my father excited, to the point where he has even recruited my grandmother to create "contest envelopes" using old pieces of wallpaper. Apparently, the flashier the envelope, the better chance that it gets picked; that is, only if the winner is selected by hand. If it's some automated selection process...well, I can't express the sadness expressed by my father in words. I'll just use the phrase "emotional exhaustion." I even believe there are magazines, podcasts, and newsletters in connection with entering contests in order to discuss various strategies/contests/crazy people who have won said contests.

If I were to even try to relate this contest club endeavor to something, I guess it would be similar to that of "Extreme Couponing," whereby crazy people attempt to save hundreds of dollars by cutting out and utilizing every possible coupon they come across, to the point where it may in fact affect their normal lives in some manner.

As I've stated, I believe I've only hit the surface of this fascinating "hobby." I sincerely hope that someone has more free time to explore the subject in more depth than I can offer. A case study of my old man would be a nice start. With my father's upcoming retirement, I can only expect his participation in contests to increase tenfold.

* Full disclosure: I have never watched Extreme Couponing, though I do not question the validity of my particular word choice of "crazy" to define this group of people.