First off, our showcase is this coming Tuesday. I'd say we're pretty ready, but this weekend is going to be our make-it-or-break-it time. Candyman has turned out pretty well and I'm really happy with it. I have a little bit to shine up, but otherwise I'm confident we'll do well. The only problem is that Gordon's going home with his girlfriend this weekend for Easter. The moment he told me this, my heart sank because I started to worry that we wouldn't be ready. Not that the whole showcase relies on him, but he's the president, he has a huge part, and he should be here. I understand why he would want to go home with Sam. He's only got so much time with her, he wants to meet her parents, and what's not to like about her. I mean, I wouldn't have picked anyone else for him. But really, priorities. I told him that I wouldn't bug him about it anymore, and no matter how angry or bothered at him I seemed, I still love him, and it's true. I just want everything to go well. We're down to the wire.
Another dancing thing that I added to my plate was the Wooster Jam Session. It's basically a two day extravaganza where we get to show off. Let's Dance is performing for an hour and we're most likely going to spotlight all of the dances we know, then teach a lesson. I need to finish figuring out who's going and put together a medley song that we can dance to. I'm excited for it to be over so I can just focus on the showcase, and that will be one thing checked off of my list. I'm also excited to show the community what we do. I also hope a lot of people show up, I don't want to have like seven people, two of them leads. This is also the weekend that Gordon will be gone. My favorite dance partner :(
The CSD department hosted a grad-school meeting for us rising seniors. It freaked me out a little because I don't think my GPA is that good, so I'm afraid I won't get into any of the schools that I want to. I'm not sure if I'll be able to hop my GPA up .3 this semester to get a 3.0....
The final thing, the straw that breaks the camels back, is my clinic adviser. My clinic partner and I had to write a rough draft progress report for our client. We wrote one, both writing different parts of it, and we thought it was pretty good. We turned it in and she sends us the edits. There are A MILLION OF THEM. "Okay," I think, I'll edit it and fix it. I go see her today and she wants to talk about it. She shows me the rubric with my grade of 54%. Based on the edits, I guess I understand, but the content in there seems pretty good enough to at least give me a solid 70%. Mind you, I'm not freaking out because this is a "rough draft," where the grades USUALLY don't count. I ask her how big of a chunk the rough draft will be of the final progress report grade, and she says it IS the grade. *Record scratch* WHAT?! The point of a draft is to be able to improve my work with her guidance. First she tried to say that I have "bad grammar and sentence structure." If you know who I am, you'll know I'm a grammar freak. All I do is critique grammar. I ask her for examples, she comes up with ones that my PARTNER wrote and I point this out to her. She then says that I should have edited better myself. I figured that at a college level, sentence grammar shouldn't be that big of a problem, but I don't know my clinic partner's writing style, so I guess it is a part my fault. I ask if when I edit it, if it would improve my grade, she says, "If I give you my own edits, then grade it, it's like I'm grading my own work..." Not in normal people world! My Jr. IS adviser gave me SO MANY EDITS, and I worked off of them. I didn't write hers word for word, and I wouldn't write yours either. She also told another student that it would not be a graded draft. She's always inconsistent when she tells us things. I refuse to get a bad grade on this, so I'm going to try to take it to the head of the department.
I just need a really good blues dance to make me feel beautiful and take me away from all of these dumb worries. DUMB worries.
Time to watch Community. Donald Glover instantly makes my days better. Ugh.
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