Although admitting this may confirm the fact that I have no life and I really need to re-think what I do with my spare time, I positively love those little quizzes that pop up in my Facebook feed. You know which ones I am referring to, right? The ones that tell you in which country you really belong (France), which Disney princess you are most like (Belle), what song was written about you (“I Will Survive”) and on what day you are going to die. (I didn’t take that one because I believe some things in life really should remain a surprise.)
Yes, I question the scientific research that goes into the development of these things. After all, how does my picking a landscape scene have any bearing on which super hero sidekick I resemble? Still, I have to presume someone knows what he or she is doing and that by answering five or six multiple-choice questions; I will gain great personal insight into my psyche. In the past month alone, I have learned some incredible things about myself. I did not know that I was Cleopatra in a past life or that I dated James Dean in an alternate universe. Apparently, I have more in common with JFK than any other U.S. president and that I am 71 percent Jedi and 29 percent Sith (talk about a disturbance in the Force!). I am an “ultimate booktarian,” which isn’t even a real word according to…well, Word, and I know all of my television sitcom characters from the 1960s through the 1980s. (Yet another fact that proves I should get out more.) If I were a student at Hogwarts, I would be sorted into Gryffindor, and if I were part of a heavy metal/hard rock bank, I would definitely be a member of Led Zeppelin. OK, I did NOT need a Facebook quiz to tell me that one!
It’s true that I am addicted to Facebook quizzes in much the same way as I am countdown shows, tennis tournaments and the term “Buy One Get One Free;” however, I should have quit while I was ahead. A few nights ago, in a fit of inflated ego, I took the “Can You Answer Basic Fifth Grade Science Questions?” quiz and failed miserably.
Unlike the goobers at PlayBuzz who ask, “What inanimate object are you?” this quiz was brought to me from the good people at Time Magazine. I have to assume this means they have done their homework and based on my two-out-of-eight score, clearly I didn’t do mine.
Seriously, did I learn any of this stuff at all? Admittedly fifth grade wasn’t my best year of elementary school, but still… Who knew nitrogen was the most common gas in the Earth’s atmosphere or that momentum is defined as the product of an object’s mass and velocity according to classical mechanics? (I think my dad subscribed to that magazine, by the way.) Why would I need to know which item (pulley, screw, wedge or hammer) is not a simple machine? I had it narrowed down to the wedge and hammer, but didn’t use my phone-a-friend lifeline to riddle out the final answer. In my defense, I did know the three types of rock classifications and which element is responsible for the red look of the Martian soil, but it doesn’t make me feel any better and only begs the question why I know more about Mars than I do my home planet.
Naturally, Boy Wonder was delighted by my failure and tells everyone he knows that his mother is not “smarter than a fifth grader.” Maybe not, but neither are most Americans according to the study. Still, I must be doing something right. After all, I have two college degrees; a career that I love and Facebook says I am 95 percent likely to survive the zombie apocalypse. What more does anyone need?