I was looking up the national averages for the AP tests this year, and they were even more gratifying than I could have hoped. 11.9% of people got fives on Art History, and 11.2% got fives on Government, but the best part is this: 7.6% got fives on Lit. And I'm one of them. Ooh, whuttup! This explains why I haven't seen one person yet (either on tumblr or in real life) who's gotten anything more than a four. I'm not an egotistical jerk, really, but I had to brag, because I can't exactly go around shouting it from the rooftops. Actually, I suppose I could. I should have posted my scores on facebook when I got them and everyone else did. I suppose it's too late now. Now no one will ever know of my genius. Boy oh boy, I really am an egotistical jerk, aren't I. But you have to understand, this is an extremely validating moment for me. I've lived my whole life (or at least up until this year) thinking that English is second nature to everyone, that prowess at reading and writing isn't anything more special than breathing, and that I had no talents whatsoever. So to see that it really is pretty cool to be good at something– that's what everyone lives for, right? You know, I also got a five on AP Lang last year and 10.9% of people got that. It's also the biggest test administered. That didn't register as much with me, though, because the class was so ridiculously easy, and because I was so ashamed of my fours on the other tests. I didn't study for them, though. I read a page on slavery once for APUSH, and that was all. Of course, I didn't study for Spanish either (lol what AP Chem, I didn't take that class). You'd think I would have learned my lesson for this year.
Sure did work out in the end though!
It even worked out in math. I'm really surprised. I got a four on the final for Calc, and I never actually failed any of our practice tests, and now I can skip math placement tests for college because of my passing score. So I'm really happy. Maybe I'm not actually as bad at math as I thought. The gene in our family didn't skip me after all! (ugh there really is a gene though I mean Mom got a 790 on her math SAT and took crazy hard classes in college and stuff and then of course Zac is a math major– sort of– and presented his research at an international convention and all that, and Kitty's been getting perfect scores on her math tests and etc etc etc.) I'm in such a mood for shameless self-aggrandizement right now! I want someone to laud me and tell me how wonderful I am! Or at the very least, I want someone to know how I did. Well, I guess our teacher will know. Collegeboard sends the scores back to the school. I'd like to think that he knows already, and this is a terribly conceited thing to say, but I got the highest score on every single multiple choice test we ever took except for one (we took plenty too), and I never wrote an essay that scored below a six (actually, my scores steadily increased throughout the year, and I ended with solid nines). Not only that, but I got perfect scores on everything (individual) we ever did. I think I ended the class with 110% or something like that. So, if he wanted to predict our scores, hopefully he would think of me with a five in mind.
Ya know, everyone in my class started to respect me after awhile, and that was part of the reason I loved it so much. Of course, I've been in honors/AP classes since freshman year, and I've always had at least a 3.9, but I don't think most people really looked at me as "smart" because of my voice and my clothes and my looks. In fact, everyone who didn't know me very well thought I was quite a bimbo. So when everyone universally started to respect me for the first time in my life, it really changed how I saw the world. I stopped hating everyone so much, and started feeling better about myself too, and just in general sort of un-embittered myself. I don't think you can imagine how wonderful it was to have people realize that I was the top student in the class, not the bottom, and that I was someone whom they could always ask for help. I've never been thought of as the leader in anything, not in school, nor at home, or in fact anywhere, and it seems like such a small thing to be recognized, but it was (and is) so enormous to me. Hearing people say things like, "She knows everything," or "Don't worry, Jasmine can do it," just made my day, and because people said things like that almost every day, it was impossible not to be happy in that class. Of course, it would have been impossible not to be happy in the class anyway, just because everything about it was so superlatively perfect, but you know. I loved Lit so much that I sometimes told myself it was coming when I got up in the morning, to give myself a reason to get out of bed. Oh goodness, why am I such a silly person? I'm going to blush with shame twenty years hence when I read this to realize how easily affected I was (am?). Well, nothing to do about that. That's Future Jasmine's problem, and she can deal with it herself, being the mature adult she is.
Okay, that's all about that. Man, I wrote a lot. I felt like it had to be said, though.
Oh! I really can go to Ohio State! I didn't dare make plans for it or anything, because I didn't want to get my hopes up for nothing, but we all talked about it, and we agreed that if Dad can stop spending hundreds of dollars a month on quack supplements, we can afford to send me there. I'm so happy and excited! I feel (rather melodramatically) as if Beatrice had pulled me off the road to perdition at the last minute. Is that the best allusion to use? It's not. Oh dear. Well, it was what sprang to mind. Now I can go to a real university, and get a real education, and have a real shot at life! I've called and set up orientation, and I've been talking to my roommate on facebook, and we're looking into plane tickets, and oh my goodness, it looks like it's actually going to happen! When I remember what's happening, I smile goofily to myself, and bounce up and down internally. The only fly in my ointment is the fact that I'm taking up so much of the family resources for so little gain. I feel so terrible whenever anyone mentions money in any context that I would almost be willing to go to Long Beach after all, were my ego not so massive. Ugh, I'm such a horrible human being. I wish I were more saintly. Well, no, I don't really. Or do I? Oh no, what a tangled web! Whee, college, though! I'm on an emotional rollercoaster every day, and there is no denying it.
I went to market night with Kitty, and a whole bunch of our afternoon students at the community college were there. So we got away from them, and then Sonia showed up. Bluh. Don't get me wrong, I love her dearly, and I'm going to miss her like fresh meat needs salt when I leave, but sometimes I don't want to talk to anyone. You know? Kitty is the same way. In fact, all our family is. I suppose we're extraordinarily lucky that we don't mind each others' company at any given time. I know many families don't have that privilege.
I'm almost done with work at the community college, speaking (ish) of which! At least, I'm almost done with the ESL morning class. My last day is next Thursday. It's great and all, but I'm really very ready to be done. The two teachers are horrible, and I don't think I could take more of their antics than I had to. Yesterday, the lady went over an eight-line dialogue for twenty minutes, and when she noticed that the students weren't engaged, she yelled at them. One brave soul told her that it was boring because it was too easy, and she flipped out. She screamed for twenty minutes more about how he obviously didn't understand anything, because he couldn't possibly think it was easy otherwise, how stupid the class was in general, how no one was allowed to find the lesson boring, how it was their own fault if they were bored because their minds were limited, and so on and so on, while the other teacher slipped in snide remarks here and there. Once she was done, she went on with the "lesson," which really wasn't a lesson at all, but stopped every other sentence to deliver some cutting remark. The poor students were terrified, especially mine, because she didn't understand why she was being yelled at, and the teachers got mad at them for that too. None of them talk in class anymore, because if they do, they get yelled at, misunderstood, or made fun of, usually all three, by both teachers, and they don't dare ask questions either. It's really a bad situation. Today, one of the girls was late because the bus was late, so the teacher (the man) said loudly, "You're LATE! Next time, buy a Ferrari. Oh wait– YOU CAN'T!" Then he laughed for about a minute. The other teacher thought this was pretty funny, and joined in with some snippy rejoinder about the working class. Meanwhile, everyone else was sitting in awkward silence. And it's not like the teachers are any good example of timeliness either! The lady is always at least fifteen minutes late to class, and the man is never the first one in the room. It's so annoying. I mean, if I can drag myself there on time, surely anyone should be able to. The afternoon class is marginally better, because Kitty and I are in charge of it. On the other hand, it comprises a roomful of twelve-year-old boys, none of whom speak English to any degree, and it lasts for twice as long. I suppose I need to brush up on my sports terminology. Basketball is the one with bases, right?
I suppose I really should go to bed. It's 1:39, and everyone else is asleep already. If the CIA were going to come and catch me, now would be the time. And as I don't want them to catch me, I better go up to bed and safety so that I can live to talk about basketball another day. Goodnight now!
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