I had to go take Scary Test today to see if I am smart enough to go to school. It was a two hour test, and I had no coffee or food before I went (which does not make for great focus). I pretty much spent the first fifteen minutes looking around to see if anyone had dropped any candy on the floor, hoping they wouldn't think I was trying to cheat. (I didn't find any candy. Bummer.)
The girl who told me how to use the computer (ok, ok, the bar is already low here, I get that), told me that it was very important to take my time, because people who take the test quickly always end up losing at life and become something awful like politicians or drug addicts. (I think that's what she said, I was beginning the candy hunt at that point.) Even though there were a few people who started before I got there, I was the first one done with the test, so I sat in my chair and waited for at least two people to leave. I'm not really sure why I did this, because I couldn't go back and change my answers, and I'm pretty sure the computer knew I was done. I was a little frightened that I would get a judgemental look from the Test Administrators and they would yell at me in front of all the other kids or something. So I sat there and very nearly starved to death.
After I got up the nerve to get out of my chair, I had to go get the paper with my score to take to some other person. The administrator scared me to death because she told me that she wasn't supposed to talk to people about their scores, but she wanted to explain something about mine. I was freaking out. She said I needed this certain score to get into school, and the only score I could see was Algebra, which was lower. My dreams were crushed. (My dreams of becoming a bookkeeper and trying to work my way through my real dreams over the next ten years or so, that is.) Well, anyway, apparently, Algebra doesn't matter (Hello!!! I've been saying this since highschool!!), and she was pointing out that my other scores were pretty good, so that was a relief...dreams uncrushed, proceed with Life.
So, here's what the test said (and pretty much what I knew about myself already):
Reading - Good Score = I love to read, I read fast, but I hate reading poetic drivel about despair and oppression, and I apparently cannot answer questions about it. I spent most of that story looking for candy and watching the clock to see if I was taking my time.
Pre-Algebra (in the old days, we called it math) - OK Score = I can count. (My courses are for Accounting Services, so let's hope I can count.) I have the ability to work in percentages and fractions, but "It's not a pretty picture. I don't like doing it." (If you can guess that quote, you win at being a 90's kid.)
Algebra - Awful Score = I answered "c" for every questions and basically got 25% right. I remember learning algebra as a kid, and when my mom didn't know how to help me, she would ask my dad to try. He would explain it to me, and magically come up with an answer. I would go "Whaaa...???" So he would explain it again - not differently - louder. I'd be all "The thing is, how do letters ever equal numbers? And if they do, why not just put the number there in the first place?" So my dad would very patiently use the exact same words even louder. I would say "Ohhhhhh....ok" and he would leave. Then I would turn back a few pages and hope I could figure out what he was talking about. (Note: I am not criticizing my dad for this; this is sort of how I teach people to read. I end up screaming psychotically, "It's 'THE'!!! How do you NOT know this word?!?! You just read it EIGHT MILLION TIMES in the last FIVE MINUTES! 'THE', DAMMIT! Gah! Just let me read it for you." See? I'm crazy.)
Writing - Perfect Score = I am completely anal and rude about grammar and punctuation. I actually caught myself sighing disgustedly - out loud - because of the horrible grammar in the essays I was supposed to correct. This is also how I read you, Internet. You disgust me with your misspellings and your incorrect usage of there (or their, or they're) and your (or you're), and lack of understanding of the beautiful comma. Please, I beg you, do something about this. And no, I didn't need a test to tell me this about myself...I knew it all along. I am so picky about this that I am One of Those People. Which is funny, because I HATE when Those People correct my writing mistakes. So Shut. Up. I'm sure this post is riddled with them because it's midnight and it's been a long day and my kids keep talking in their sleep and freaking me out. (I still rock at making sentence boyfriends that go on terribly long.)
Anyway, I pretty much learned stuff I already knew, and I'm glad I am smart enough for vo-tech.
