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adventures in testing
Mar. 15th, 2009 08:38 pmIt seems that I have sorely underestimated the sheer level of my separation from normal teenage culture.
The SATs were... strange. In a number of ways. One of the strange things was that I kind of enjoyed the experience -- getting up early, though contrary to my nature, tends to energise me? Maybe it's the morning shot of caffeine; although it is nice to get up and have so much day ahead of you. And the sunrise! The pale dawn with clouds blooming like roses over the highway! It's very lovely -- and strange, as I never see it. I get up before the sun for a) Christmas, and b) early-start roadtrips (on which I promptly return to my sleeping). And the SATs, I suppose. Dad was working in Brookville, so he dropped me at the high-school where the testing was being held. I'm always curious about public schools, because of course I've never really been to them -- a few times I've gone to pick someone up for something, I think? when I was little?, and I've been to a church or two held in schools, and the occasional event, and I spent one day shadowing the daughter of people I was staying with for one day of high-school, but otherwise, I know about public schools from books and films, sort of like romance, England, and the 1960s. The testing was in the cafeteria, half of which was very welcoming, because one whole wall was window, but the rest was utterly dreary, made of those ugly white plaster bricks that seem only to exist in public schools and dreary '60s and '70s churches. It was lovely to be able to look outside, though, even if it was only the parking lot and the highway and a few stragglinwg trees -- but sky, too! And natural light, which made up for the flourescent lights.
I had dressed partially for comfort, but mostly for confidence -- pretty clothes (and shoes with heels that go click) tend to make me feel a little more alert, sit up a little straighter, feel a little better about what I'm doing. And... when I wear my brightly-coloured cotton gypsy dress, with beads sewn to the front panel, and my striped stockings, and my sleek black granny boots, and my ankle-length orange sweater-coat, and my cameo necklace and peacock-feather earrings to work, or while wandering about downtown, I look a little eccentric, but not... wacky? I might stand out a bit, but not like... I don't know, a cat at the beach. But once in the high-school, surrounded by my age-mates, I discovered that not only was I the only girl wearing a skirt or dress at all, I was also the only girl not wearing a sweatshirt of some kind. I was also in the minority in having brushed my hair before coming, apparently. (I'm not even a morning person!) And then I felt really weird, because the sheer not-like-anybody-else-ness of my appearance must have made me seem very unapproachable, and that combined with my terminal shyness might have made people think I was a bit of a snob. I smiled at everybody, though! I like smiling at people! It's the bit where I make words with my mouth that I can't quite get right! (To quote Willow, "Usually I can make a few vowel sounds... and then I have to go away.")
(Seriously, though. I expected to see someone wearing something that wasn't depressing, unnattractive grunge-wear. Teenage girls are supposed to be obsessed with their appearances! It doesn't take long to put on something attractive! What about a cute t-shirt and jeans and a pair of Converses or pretty flats? I just... don't understand. Wouldn't you feel better and more confident if you presented yourself in an alert, attractive ways?)
And then to cement my status as Geeky Madwoman, I found that I sort of enjoyed the test. Sort of. There's something very pleasing and orderly about answering questions and putting pieces together and making everything right. The mathematics section wasn't quite so fun, but it was sort of satisfying, I suppose, although I skipped a lot of questions I couldn't answer -- in contrast, I didn't skip a single one of the English questions, finished every section with time to spare, and am ninety-eight percent certain that I answered everything correctly. (I'm not being cocky, either. They really weren't very difficult. And also enjoyable and relaxing. I wish I had a website of "choose the most fitting pair of words" problems, and "find the grammar mistake" problems; there's a nice steady rhythm, so it's relaxing and stimulating at the same time.)
The essay I am nervous about, but reasonably satisfied, given my track record with flash essays (which is not so great). I managed to cite about three things from my 'reading, experiences, studies, et cetera', and I think my position was reasonably supported and established, and I took perhaps a different angle on the prompt than a lot of other people might.
It was four hours, and by the end I was very sore, and ravenous, but very awake (...well, I was then), and very intellectually stimulated; it was sort of like the mental equivalent of bicycling to work. Strenuous, but sharpening. I really wasn't expecting that. I also wasn't expecting my successful concentration; my mind rarely drifted very far when I was meant to be answering problems, and I was able to force myself to think things through that tend to make me panic. (I... forgot my calculator. But I managed surprisingly well without it, and am sort of pleased at my mental math abilities.)
And then Mum came to collect me, with the entire set of siblings in tow, and we acquired KFC on the way home. And I rewarded myself with Dollhouse. A few hours later, sleep overwhelmed me rather abruptly.
Now to wait for scores. :/
The SATs were... strange. In a number of ways. One of the strange things was that I kind of enjoyed the experience -- getting up early, though contrary to my nature, tends to energise me? Maybe it's the morning shot of caffeine; although it is nice to get up and have so much day ahead of you. And the sunrise! The pale dawn with clouds blooming like roses over the highway! It's very lovely -- and strange, as I never see it. I get up before the sun for a) Christmas, and b) early-start roadtrips (on which I promptly return to my sleeping). And the SATs, I suppose. Dad was working in Brookville, so he dropped me at the high-school where the testing was being held. I'm always curious about public schools, because of course I've never really been to them -- a few times I've gone to pick someone up for something, I think? when I was little?, and I've been to a church or two held in schools, and the occasional event, and I spent one day shadowing the daughter of people I was staying with for one day of high-school, but otherwise, I know about public schools from books and films, sort of like romance, England, and the 1960s. The testing was in the cafeteria, half of which was very welcoming, because one whole wall was window, but the rest was utterly dreary, made of those ugly white plaster bricks that seem only to exist in public schools and dreary '60s and '70s churches. It was lovely to be able to look outside, though, even if it was only the parking lot and the highway and a few stragglinwg trees -- but sky, too! And natural light, which made up for the flourescent lights.
I had dressed partially for comfort, but mostly for confidence -- pretty clothes (and shoes with heels that go click) tend to make me feel a little more alert, sit up a little straighter, feel a little better about what I'm doing. And... when I wear my brightly-coloured cotton gypsy dress, with beads sewn to the front panel, and my striped stockings, and my sleek black granny boots, and my ankle-length orange sweater-coat, and my cameo necklace and peacock-feather earrings to work, or while wandering about downtown, I look a little eccentric, but not... wacky? I might stand out a bit, but not like... I don't know, a cat at the beach. But once in the high-school, surrounded by my age-mates, I discovered that not only was I the only girl wearing a skirt or dress at all, I was also the only girl not wearing a sweatshirt of some kind. I was also in the minority in having brushed my hair before coming, apparently. (I'm not even a morning person!) And then I felt really weird, because the sheer not-like-anybody-else-ness of my appearance must have made me seem very unapproachable, and that combined with my terminal shyness might have made people think I was a bit of a snob. I smiled at everybody, though! I like smiling at people! It's the bit where I make words with my mouth that I can't quite get right! (To quote Willow, "Usually I can make a few vowel sounds... and then I have to go away.")
(Seriously, though. I expected to see someone wearing something that wasn't depressing, unnattractive grunge-wear. Teenage girls are supposed to be obsessed with their appearances! It doesn't take long to put on something attractive! What about a cute t-shirt and jeans and a pair of Converses or pretty flats? I just... don't understand. Wouldn't you feel better and more confident if you presented yourself in an alert, attractive ways?)
And then to cement my status as Geeky Madwoman, I found that I sort of enjoyed the test. Sort of. There's something very pleasing and orderly about answering questions and putting pieces together and making everything right. The mathematics section wasn't quite so fun, but it was sort of satisfying, I suppose, although I skipped a lot of questions I couldn't answer -- in contrast, I didn't skip a single one of the English questions, finished every section with time to spare, and am ninety-eight percent certain that I answered everything correctly. (I'm not being cocky, either. They really weren't very difficult. And also enjoyable and relaxing. I wish I had a website of "choose the most fitting pair of words" problems, and "find the grammar mistake" problems; there's a nice steady rhythm, so it's relaxing and stimulating at the same time.)
The essay I am nervous about, but reasonably satisfied, given my track record with flash essays (which is not so great). I managed to cite about three things from my 'reading, experiences, studies, et cetera', and I think my position was reasonably supported and established, and I took perhaps a different angle on the prompt than a lot of other people might.
It was four hours, and by the end I was very sore, and ravenous, but very awake (...well, I was then), and very intellectually stimulated; it was sort of like the mental equivalent of bicycling to work. Strenuous, but sharpening. I really wasn't expecting that. I also wasn't expecting my successful concentration; my mind rarely drifted very far when I was meant to be answering problems, and I was able to force myself to think things through that tend to make me panic. (I... forgot my calculator. But I managed surprisingly well without it, and am sort of pleased at my mental math abilities.)
And then Mum came to collect me, with the entire set of siblings in tow, and we acquired KFC on the way home. And I rewarded myself with Dollhouse. A few hours later, sleep overwhelmed me rather abruptly.
Now to wait for scores. :/
