They have Fucking Finals now? I've been 'studying' for those since I was 12.

I hope it wasn't an English test... (just kidding:))

Hang in there. I remember in college I'd often think I bombed a test I ended up doing well on. Of course the tests I thought I did well on I did poorly on. Go figure.

It's like my father used to say. Everybody gets shot. Uh, I mean, everybody bombs a final.

Yeah, what eekacat said. I thought I'd ruined my Wills & Probate and Company Law papers but did amazingly well in them. This was about a hundred years ago, when I still had a few functioning brain cells.

Ditto. I once took a final I hadn't studied for, in a class I didn't pay attention in. I got one of the only As in the class. I still feel bad about that one.

Sadly, I know I didn't do well. This isn't a "think I did poorly and did wonderfully" situtation, rather a "think I did poorly and maybe didn't fail" thing. Alas.

I'm mostly just peeved at myself. I've spent most of my academic career doing well without much effort, so this particular defeat doesn't sit very well with me. I suppose it's good that the only thing I've got left this semester is a paper that I'm pretty much guaranteed an A on.

Meh.

What essexjan and eekacat said.

Did you answer all the questions? Did you go to the classes where the subject matter of the questions was discussed? If so, you mostly likely at least scraped through.

If you didn't answer all the questions, then you might be right. Given these are finals (and assuming that means the same in Oz/Scots as it does in Merkin), probably your results will be determined more by the reputation you have built up over the last few years than anything else. This might of course not always be a good thing, but I'm sure in your case it is.

Good luck with the rest of them.

that means the same in Oz/Scots as it does in Merkin

Um, dude, you do know what "merkin" actually means, right? (NSFW)

Long ago, when I was studying for my undergraduate degree, I was taking a particularly heavy load of classes in an attempt to get caught up with others in my major. I had changed majors several times, you see, and it was going to be quite a feat to graduate in a reasonable amount of time. (Now, of course, I realized I should have stayed in college a couple more years. *sigh*)

In any case, one of the classes I was taking that particular semester was differential equations, which I found mind-numbingly boring, and as a consequence, often avoided attending class. I did, however, make it a habit of attending the classes scheduled before the exams, as the professor often reviewed the material covered by the exam sufficiently to allow me to get a grasp on what I needed to study.

One lazy Monday afternoon, I strolled into the math department ready to review for the exam scheduled in two days, to discover the hall full of classmates, all eyes feverishly fixed in their books. A buddy of mine, crouched over a stack of papers on the floor, looked up, and asked, "You ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"Uh, the exam?"

"Nah, but it's not until Wednesday."

His eyes bugged out. "It's today, dude."

I had precisely three minutes to study for my exam. My differential equations exam. I leafed through the sections of the textbook that would be covered, but it might as well have been Sanskrit. I was well and truly fucked. The professor, with a stern warning suggesting that we had better have studied adequately, passed out the exam papers. I muddled through, hoping to get enough partial credit to pass, and on a particularly gnarly heat transfer problem invented a method for solving out of whole cloth. Matrices? Who knew that matrices were going to be on the exam? Not I, that's for sure.

For a week, I dreaded receiving the results. We finally reconvened in that classroom, and after a stern lecture from the professor about it being clear who had studied and who hadn't, and the number of failing and close to failing grades he had issued, we received our papers back.

I got a B.

I sucked at school. 2 college final stories:

1: German final, spring semester freshman year. It was supposed to be a 3 hour exam. I turned mine in about an hour and a half in, left that building, walked to the building next door, went into the ladies room and threw up. No idea what my grade was.

2: Calculus: same semester. I barely went to class. Made C's and D's on the first two midterms. Flunked the hell outta the class. F. As in FART. It was the only F in the class. And actually the only F I ever made at all. I deserved it, too. That summer I took it again and made an A.

Disclaimer: During that same year I went through the following personally:

- a gay chick from my high school chased me relentlessly, telling me she'd kill herself if I didn't have sex with her. Freaked me out, pretty much.
- A friend of the family, who was married decided he loved me. I was immensely confused.
- My folks sold their house and moved 4 hours away from 1/2 an hour down the road.
- Before they closed on the new place, they discovered my Mom had a benign brain tumor the size of a cherry right in the middle of her brain. She was in the hospital for 3 months that second semester, 5 weeks of which were in ICU.
- Oh, and I had mono.

Great year!!! I didn't tell any of my profs what was going on because I was 17 and figured no excuse would fly in College.

Epilogue: I became very close friends with a dorm-mate who was studious and we are still close to this day. We were partners for 6 years after college. I made the Dean's list 3 times the rest of the time I was in college, and I did graduate. Mom lived another 20 years after her brain surgery. I told the psycho chick from high school to fuck off.

And now I live happily ever after!

So what are we supposed to call it/you mob then? I'd be happy with "Seppo", but I hear that offends. (If the Canajins* aren't happy with it, then I won't use it).

*I wouldn't be surprised to hear that "canajin" refers to some bizarre sexual practice, but please, no links. Thanks.

And hey, your head of state just pretended that our head of government was a head of state and berated him for being bald and ugly, so I think I still have the (rapidly sinking) moral high ground here.

Gecko, I'm not upset. I just found it funny.

I recommend going out and falling in love immediately, YouCanCallMeAl. Then you won't care about your grade, and it won't matter one bit.

If you already are in love, don't worry about your grade. Go pick flowers or cook up some overly complicated surprise or spend the afternoon naked together.

Grades are only there to distract you from more important things.

Sorry, mate. My reply above does sound defensive or aggro, or something. I really do have to go to bed now, but just to show there are no hard feelings, I think some Strine (and please God, I hope *that* doesn't refer to some, em, unusual practice) sounds via YSI and perhaps some hotornot fun involving our Prime Minister for Life are due in the morning.

Note the term "morning" might not refer to your actual morning.

Most Yanks don't know what "seppo" means anymore, especially the ones in the rural south, where they actually still use septic tanks. "Merkin" most get, and the offensive part of it is just an added bonus. It's a good, modern replacement for seppo.

The preferred term for us north of the boarder by our southern friends is Canukistani, as popularized by talk radio.

Canucklehead, Pea-Soup, Pepsi and TreeFucker are also popular.

I would have posted something similar to this yesterday, but the names were all wacky and I couldn't deal.

That's "Les Pespi": franophones only. Pea-souper too. Treefucker, otoh, referes to all of us from the land of the silver birch.