There may or may not be an offensive joke near the end of the post. I apologize, but I was kind of under a lot of stress at the moment it happened. Thank you for your cooperation.
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So yesterday I took the ACT. And trust me, I'd love to disclose all the information and test questions, but if I do, I was warned that I would be chased down by velociraptors and beaten with rusty forks, ignoring my many pleas for mercy.
Okay, that wasn't what the test proctor said, but that's how I inferred it. Anyhow, I had originally planned on taking this test at my safe, legal, local high school, but I had no idea that it was such a popular testing site and I found myself too late to register, even though I thought I was going to be one of the first to sign up because I was signing up about a month and a half beforehand. I guess not.
So, instead of going to a high school that was a five-minute drive away, I was to be whisked across the county towards a much closer suburb of the large city I'd rather not disclose because I'm paranoid about who will find me on the internet to this neato little private school.
How did I know it was a private school? Well, first of all, the last three words were "Lutheran High School," so I made a safe assumption that it wouldn't exactly be a public school, what with the whole separation of church and state thing we've got going on here in the United States. Also, upon walking inside the front doors, the common ACT-taker was barraged by an assault of bible passages and crosses, to the point where it would make most atheists shiver and wonder what exactly was going through their mind when they decided to come to that school to take the test.
Neat little fact, the school's team name was the "Crusaders." I thought it was fitting for a Christian school. I had a nice little giggle.
But yeah, that was my destination yesterday. Lovely, I know. To make matters lovelier, the night before the test, I found out that there would be a large amount of roadwork on the highways I needed to take to get there. So much for my serene, lonely, focused drive out to the school, blasting music that would pump me up. I had my mom driving me so I wouldn't get lost. And that pump-up music was the local oldies station.
Don't get me wrong, I love old music, it's just that hippie music is not my idea of exciting pump-up music. At least until they played "Gonna Fly Now" as my mom was pulling into the parking lot. Suddenly, I was ready for anything.
Or so I thought.
See, apparently, it's not good thinking if you think that June weather will always be warm and lovely. Especially in Minnesota. Where I was standing, all tall and proud with my calculator, pencils, and confirmation paper, wearing shorts and a t-shirt was outside. In fifty degree weather. The entire group of test takers were forced to wait outside before 8:00 AM, shivering and complaining the whole time. I felt right at home.
Unfortunately, I didn't have anyone to complain to; the only people who were from my high school were, for the most part, idiots that I tend to avoid. So there I was, inspecting my confirmation paper and checking every two minutes or so to see if my calculator was going to be accepted by the gods of the ACT so that I could use it on the mathematics section.
For those of you that have never taken a standardized test, it'll be important information to know that if you have the wrong calculator, you will be viewed as lower than dirt. So bring an appropriate calulator.
I thought I would have to endure this horrible existance all alone, until a random girl from speech showed up, recognizing me by my speech piece. I felt famous for a good five minutes, but this moment will not be understood by pretty much anybody; I just wanted to mention it because it made me feel really good about myself.
Anyway, when they finally let us in and the entirety of angsty high school juniors had stampeded into the incredibly small cafeteria (I'm pretty sure that there were more students in the building yesterday morning than there were that actually attended the school), they forced us into four lines to sign in. At each of these four tables were the kind of people who didn't look thrilled at all to be working early on a Saturday morning, especially with all us losers who couldn't make time to take the ACT during the actual school year.
To make matters worse, the lines were pretty much organized like this:
Yeah, great planning, I know. But we all kept quiet and cooperated, partially because we all just wanted to get this test over with, and partially because we just weren't really all that awake. Not all of us were lucky enough to go through speech saturdays.
When I reached the front of the table, I was relieved because I finally was able to move to the area where there was actually some elbow room, which was really good because somebody's deoderant really wasn't working all that well.
Now, when I first heard that some newer calculator models would not be accepted, I panicked. Now, I was fortunate enough to own two very lovely graphing calculators, but one was newer, and while it wasn't on the list, I was still freaking out, for no real reason of course, because it might have been added, so I decided to take "the brick."
That's the nickname I have for my TI-85 calculator. I got it for two bucks at a thrift store. It looks something like this:
Pretty fitting nickname for a calculator, huh? Yeah, it's older than dirt, and on the back, etched for all time, was the name "Steve Davis." So, Steve, wherever you're hiding, if you're still alive, I'd like to thank you for your lovely brick of a calculator. It has served me well on this ACT. Because it passed the inspection.
I'm not even being sarcastic either. This calculator is one of the greatest things in the universe, right behind orange markers and Chex-Mix.
Upon recieving my brick back, I was then given directions to my room.
"Go down, find the hallway, then right," he said unenthusiastically.
"Beg pardon?"
"Down there, go to the last hallway, and it's right," he added, including lots of vague hand gestures that didn't make any sense. I thanked him, looked at a piece of paper saying my room number and pretended that he made sense.
Finally, once everyone had signed in, we were herded to our classrooms. I found the mysterious hallway, and then the mysterious classroom on the right and was ushered into my admittably comfortable seat.
Now remember how I said that this was a Christian private school? Yeah, you could really tell in this classroom. There were about twelve bibles on a shelf, along with a lot of self-help books about finding your faith, and to top it all of was a calendar showing tomatoes in the shape of the cross. Dotted sporadically along the walls were bible verses and a painting of Jesus.
Now, normally, I don't have an issue with Jesus, but for some reason, I always feel nervous whenever I see a painting of him, because all portraits of him are dark and serene. To make the situation worse, this specific Jesus was staring right at me, practically saying "YOU DIDN'T STUDY FOR THIS VERY IMPORTANT TEST. YOU MUST REPENNNNNNNNNNNT." It was like those old Scooby Doo episodes when the painting's eyes would follow the gang in the haunted house.
Obviously, it was really creepy having Jesus stare me down while I was taking the test. I would look up after finishing the section, look to my right, and there was Jesus, reminding me to check my answers with the soulless eyes that the painter decided to give him. Any time I looked up to see how much time I had left on the test, I felt his eyes boring into my skull, saying "I SAW WHAT YOU DID THERE YOU WERE NOT ALLOWED TO LOOK AROUND."
I'm going to be fully honest right here, I think I have Jesuspaintingophobia, if it is a real disease. I was nervous the whole test. Also, I decided to stay and take the optional writing section. While it was overall a good decision, I still was super concerned.
After the test, the actual Proctor walked to the middle of the room and told us not to talk about any of the questions on the test. I could feel Jesus agreeing with me.
Needless to say, I left that room very quickly.
But apart from that, I had a lovely time. Really. I think I did well. I just don't want to take any tests near Jesus again.
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