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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

The exam basically went as well as I could possibly have hoped. Considering the very short amount of time I gave myself to cram in as much study as possible, how limited my range of topics of study was due to said time constraints, and the huge gamble I took on certain questions coming up, I did sigh a MASSIVE sigh of relief when I took the first look at the essay questions.

There they were - my top three: the cognitive-experimental approach to understanding the "self"; the question about racism and the effect of group membership; the psychodynamic approach to studying relationships. Hoorah, said I, hoorah.

Unfortunately, when it came to the racism question, my mind drew an absolutely enormous blank - I could remember all of the stupid mnemonics that I had memorised as prompts for this question, the mnemonics that were supposed to remind me of the theorists, the studies, the experiments and the criticisms of the approach - but I couldn't for the life of me think of what the stupid mnemonics referred to. So my exam booklet has scribbles all over it that read "PIES", "SCUUM" and "PAAN", but nothing else. It's great.

Luckily that section had another more general question at which I was able to throw some general information and every single name and study I could think of, and I'm hoping that the examiner is kind enough to pick the bones out of it and see enough information to let me pass.

Due to the fact that I have some of the most "special" needs known to man, I was taking the exam in a "special" little room, all on my own, on my "special" laptap with just one "special" invigilator who sat behind me the whole time and stared at the screen as I typed. I can't imagine the levels of boredom he managed to descend to in the three hours I sat there variously rocking, sighing, banging out paragraphs of text only to delete them all, throwing my hands up in the air in despair and, at one memorable point, putting my head down on the desk in sheer desperation that the four words that "PIES" stood for would suddenly come flying back to me (three days later and they still haven't). The invigilator was a very sweet man who was possibly just a touch chattier than invigilators should be - any time I looked up from the laptop, he would immediately ask me if I wanted to take part of my "special" 15 minute rest period that I've been allocated due to my "special" circumstances. When I'd finally finished, we continued to chat for about 20 minutes after the exam was taken out of my hands and posted off to Milton Keynes. I think I may have talked him into take an evening class. If I have done that, I'm terribly sorry for the pain I'm about to inflict on him and his family.

Results come out just before Christmas. New term starts in February. Ho hum.


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