Exam Scores

Exam Header

So I guess there are one or two people who might be interested in knowing how well (or not) I did on the college entrance placement exams.

Though I had other plans lined up for today, I took the time to go down to Coastal and meet with a counselor, since that’s the only way I could get the scores.

I showed up after having picked up the boys from weight training, and having dropped off Kay at Jane’s work so she could use her car.  The waiting room was packed, and the lady told me it would be about a two hour wait.

Well, I had time, so I put my name in and took a seat.  Right off the bat, sitting on the couch, it occurs to me that I am the sole man in the room.  Yeah, it’s so gonna suck being a college student.  (Just kidding, honey!)

I read through an old copy of Our State magazine, watched people come and go, saw the others ahead of me go back, saw people come in behind me, flipped through the course catalogue, and eventually, just about two hours after I walked in, one of the councelors came out and called my name.

We walked back to her office while she flipped through my little folder.  “Did you take the placement exam?”

“Yeah, a couple days ago.  Tuesday.”

“Huh.  It should be in here then.”  She showed me a seat in her office, sat down, and looked on her computer for my scores while telling me not to worry, they’d be in there.  They weren’t.  She left to go find them.

She came back a while later, and was looking at the paper in a strange sort of way…  I was suddenly very nervous.

“uh… Louis?”

Exams Behind

jeans | day 305 by TeeRish @ Flickr

Did them this morning.  The English part was pretty easy, though some of the answers were a matter of choosing “which one of these choices sucks least?” in the part where I had to correct an essay.  At least two of them were “which one of these is correct, but the most uninteresting way you could possibly write this sentence?”

The math part gave me an issue or two, mostly stuff I knew but couldn’t pull the methodology out of my butt.  A little creative tinkering with the calculator got me to the answer via work-around, I think.  “What would happen if I performed this operation?” and “Well, that answer can’t be right because it would work out to something not even vaguely in the ballpark” types of things.

I took my time, was the second from the last to finish the exams.  Clocked in right under two hours, and the test was un-timed anyway.  I was more concerned with getting as many right as I could than finishing quickly.  I’ll know on Thursday how I did.

From whence came the art:

That image is titled jeans | day 305 by TeeRish, and is licensed by the artist under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 2.0 license.

Dear Onslow County Lady

Rude by _saturnine @ Flickr

…driving the silver Buick Rainier SUV with the four little ankle-biter rats dogs,

I’d like to take a moment to thank you.  I’m always grateful that there are some people in the county who obey the leash laws, and don’t allow their dogs to run free.  I always worry about dogs that aren’t on leashes.  Oh, not worry that they’ll bite me or anything, I worry about the dogs themselves.  I worry that they’ll run out in front of a car, or get lost, or picked up by the dog catcher.  I’m so glad you are enough of a concientious dog owner that you and your son keep all four of your dogs leashed while you walk them.  Kudos to you.

I’m also eternally grateful that you don’t bring them down my street and allow them to crap on my lawn instead of your own.  That’s so very considerate of you, and more considerate than a few people in my neighborhood.

However, if I may, please allow me to make one small observation.  Perhaps it’s not the best alternative to take them to White Oak High School and allow them to crap all over the fields where kids play and hang out, you ignorant fucking bitch.

kthnxbi,

Lou FCD

From whence came the art:

That image is titled Rude by _saturnine and is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 2.0 license.

I Shoulda Took Pitchers

Insanity, Thy Name Is James

Life with a teenage boy can be interesting.  Trying at times, but definitely interesting.  Especially when he is such an extrovert.  There is nothing outside the limits of his curiosity, or his humor.  Nothing.  I like that about him (usually).

Put two of them under one roof, add the cover of darkness and sparklers, insanity is inevitable.  It just is.

We went and watched the fireworks at Camp Lejeune last night, as we do every year.  Nice display, though a little shorter, smaller, and less dramatic than usual.  Parking was a little better handled this year, and leaving the base not the usual pain in the ass.  Of course we had D with us this year, and it was his first time that he could remember going.  He and J.P. hung out and kept each other occupied and out of trouble, so it worked out pretty well all the way around.

The fun really started after we got home.

Fireworks are mostly illegal in North Carolina.  Well, illegal to possess.  Apparently, not illegal to sell, as they sell all sorts of things in Wal-Mart, Sam’s Club, at road-side stands, etc. that I would think fall outside the law.  It’s one of those things that come the approach of Independence Day, everybody just sort of ignores, I guess.

I don’t mess with them, just because they’re illegal.  It’s just not worth the potential hassle to me, and I try to set a good example for the kids.  But somebody gave Jane a few boxes of sparklers for the kids, and I don’t have any problem with that (they’re legal), so once we got home (10:30/11ish), I sat out on the porch and lit sparklers for the kids.  They were tough to get going, so I lit them and handed them off.

Remember the two teenage boys?  Yeah, that wasn’t going to be interesting enough, by any stretch.

(Crazy kids, below the fold)

Fire

Got a call from Kay a while ago, she had just gone to pick up her check from work and put it in the bank.  (Still hard to get over her working and driving and all that!)

She’d gotten a block down the street.  A friend of my son, we’ll call him D, lives down there.  He’s kind of one of my adopted children.  D was home alone, and his house had caught fire.  I grabbed both house extinguishers and started to run down the street, hoping it was maybe a pot on the stove or something.

No.  When she said “on fire”, she meant “on fire”.  D was out and unhurt, spraying the garden hose in one of the front bedroom windows, but it was a battle he had no chance of winning.  At the very most he might have slowed the fire a little until the fire companies got there – except it was already in the ceiling and attic.  It was brave, if hopeless.

(More after the fold)

Teh College. It hates me.

I got to bed fairly early last night, knowing that I was going to take the exams this morning.  Got up tired, hadn’t rested well, hit the shower, even shaved to look somewhat presentable.

On the way over, I pull up to a red light, and the car does something it’s never done before, something not good.  The RPMs drop, it starts to sputter and choke.  I’ve seen this behavior before, when I drove old beaters, so without thinking I react, slap it in park.  I can’t remember what the cause of it is, though.

The RPMs come back up and smooth out, but then climb to about 2500.  Yeah, that’s what I expected, but I still can’t remember what horrible thing is going on under the hood.  I kick the accelerator down, thinking “sticky throttle?”, but knowing as soon as the thought comes that this isn’t the problem.

The RPMs come back to where they should be, and the engine settles down, back to its normal hum.  I’m talking to my car, my baby.  “Please, not today.  I love you.  I love you more than my wife.  You’ve never given me a problem that was your fault.  Please.”

(More misery below the fold)