A Prayer for Owen Meany

I was assigned to read this for IB English. It's about an unusual boy, who believes he is an instrument of God. Owen Meany is tiny, has an insane voice, and killed his best friend's mother at a Little League Game. Since then Owen Meany's story is one of fate and faith, and he is driven by an absolute belief in the will of God, taking him and his best friend through journeys of understanding and enigma, all the way through the Vietnam War and beyond. This book is fantastic. The only way to describe it is as the AP English version of South Park. Owen Meany is both hilarious and tragic, and this book can be interpreted in so many ways, as a story promoting faith, as a story mocking faith, or as a simple story that asks the reader to walk away with their own message. It's great for English students, because it has a plethora of symbols, motifs, references, and themes. Irving is practically hitting the readers over the head with the Christ Figure symbolism, even going to one obvious plot point where I literally had put the book down and groan at Irving's abandonment of subtlety.

The only drawback is that it's about 200 pages too long. For the last stretch of the book I was just dying to get it over with, but the ending redeemed the book in my eyes. Overall, it's an excellent read, and I highly recommend it. If you don't have a lot of time or don't like to read books over a long period of time, then there are other books I would suggest. But it is still a classic sure to please and impress, and give the potential English student numerous topics to write essays upon.

Friday!!!!

Finally! Friday!!!! I know I say this every week, but the only way to describe Friday for me is that it's practically my holy day, because it's the only day of the week that I don't do homework. I've lost my illusions over time about no homework on the weekends, and no homework over summer breaks, and EVEN having homework on Halloween, but I categorically refuse to do homework on Friday.

And I will be continuing my Friday celebration of things that make living life worthwhile. This week, I am going to feature 7:00 in the morning. Now if you read my blog, you'll know that I normally have 7:00 a.m. Latin, which I didn't sign up for at all. My school forced this upon me and a number of other students because they thought it was a good idea to end the program at our school out of bureaucratic reasons that I cannot begin to fathom. And I have to have an IB language credit to get my full diploma, which means about three fourths of the way through the summer I learned that I would be taking the most difficult language my school has to offer at an ungodly hour. Don't get my wrong, I love me some Lingua Latina, I only despise the coercive 7 a.m. part of it. So why on earth would I be celebrating that which I hate? Today, though, I didn't have 7:00 Latin, and my alarm went off at 6:30 a.m. I got out of bed at 7:03. The experience was incredible. It's not the 7:00 that makes living worth while, it's getting a respite from a regular torture or unpleasantness that makes life worth living. So enjoy whatever respite you get whenever you get it, no matter how little, because it never lasts for long.

Attention, all Russians!

Russians, I know many of you read my blog. It's one of my favorite things about blogging that people on other continents can read what I write and take interest in it. Really, Russia has got to be one of my favorite countries, with its history, music, language, literature, art and the things that distinctly make Russia what it is. In TOK, we're discussing language and are doing a project that requires us to make an argument for a language to become the universal language established by the United Nations. My group has Russian. We have to make all sorts of arguments concerning its benefits and the possible cultural, economic, diplomatic, educational, and other changes to the world and society. I would love to hear from those of you who speak Russian and get an idea of what the language is like to those of you who live and breathe it. How does it affect your life, and in what ways? I am personally fascinated by linguistics and would love to have some input from the people who really know what they're talking about.

So, please comment. I would love to hear from you and get feedback. This is a great opportunity for me as an International student to embrace international relations and communications, and I'm very glad I have a method of doing so. Thanks for any comments or helpful advice!

IB? Challenge Accepted

As of now I am about half-way through my first semester as an IB student. Looking back, I can say that these past couple of months have definitely been an education in more than the obvious way. Of course I'd heard a ton of rumors about how IB was hellish and you had to sacrifice your life on the altar of IB in order to take inordinately difficult classes all for a piece of paper. I'd also heard the praises teachers and administrators practically sang about this program, that it was incredibly prestigious and would open many doors in our lives. Now I know what being in IB is like and what it's all about. However, I won't know the actual merit of IB until later in the future, providing that I actually receive my diploma.

Imagine for a moment that I can juggle (I can't, but the imagination is an extraordinary thing). Imagine I'm tossing just a single ball in the air. Not that difficult is it, but careless errors can lead to failure. Add on a couple of more balls. Definitely not as easy, but not particularly difficult. That is what the pre-IB student's schedule looks like with a few Honors classes. Make up to 3 of the balls a tad heavier. That's when you add the few AP classes you can take in sophomore year. Then imagine juggling about a dozen balls, only they're all different shapes, some cubes, some rectangular pyramids, and some cones. Oh, and one ball has spikes and another is on fire. That is what it's like being in IB. It's all one elaborate juggling act. Each class considered individually is perfectly manageable, but just the sheer amount and the quick succession of these classes makes it almost impossible. You have one tough class falling down on you, and with effort you can catch it and lob it back in the air. But you can't stop for a moment to sigh in relief, because another class is about to fall and you MUST not let it escape your grasp. And you have the extra burden of CAS and the Extended Essay and whatever sports or clubs you participate in. And you're doing this on national television and you're being broadcasted all over the internet. Drop one ball and it's all over.

Sometimes I get the impression that IB is a big game of academic chicken. We all are seriously stressed out, but would rather die than surrender or give into weakness. Come on. We're all teenagers, and practically think ourselves immortal with our new self-confidence that comes with high school and a driver's license. Once you factor in the brain chemistry of young adults, you have to admit that teenagers are rash and unreliable, but would refuse to back down from a challenge.

But IB has its bright sides. For instance, I am taking very interesting classes that actually challenge me, when I've spent my entire life bored to tears in normal classes. Also, I get to write an essay about the politics and terrorism in The Dark Knight trilogy. And if it hadn't been for CAS, I doubt I would have ever entered the blogosphere. And I know it's hard for any high schooler to admit this, but hard work is very fulfilling. And accomplishing something is a very worthwhile task.

At least, that's what I comfort myself with when considering my Latin test tomorrow and three tests that I know of next week. I forgot, my first Process Paper is due next week, which means I need to get around to some EE work along with writing the actual Process Paper. Oh! and I have Primary Source Readings due this Friday. And I have a chorus concert. And I need to start working on my Prayer for Owen Meany paper. And I've got lots of math to catch up on, which I vaguely understand. And I've got to fill out the objective boxes for Psychology and read about the biochemical properties of water. And I bet I'll have to find the time to invent a cure for cancer, too. There goes my weekend.

Typical.

Avengers Assemble

In the mercy of the powers that be, I am starting that glorious thing known as Fall Break. Right now I am curled up on a friend's couch watching The Avengers in true teenager style. Pizza? Yes. Chocolate cake? You bet. Soda? Duh. The best part is I have virtually no homework (first time for everything). For once in my life I'm debating whether Thor or Captain America is hotter, not the tangibility of reality (though Thor and Captain America are both realities I would eagerly explore). I often feel like an Avenger when dealing with IB, battling insurmountable forces and against impossible odds. It's some kind of miracle that I don't turn huge, green, and angry when stressed out by multiple tests in my weakest subjects in a week (the huge maybe, because I sometimes eat ice cream when studying. Thank goodness CAS requires me to exercise. Perhaps I'll get buff like Captain America.).

Book Worm

Oh, that wonderful joy that is book shopping! If I was less vigilant about self-control, I would buy way more books than I could afford. I went to the local book store and nearly exploded at what I saw as soon as I walked in the door:

I've known about it for a while, I've heard J.K. Rowling interviewed on NPR, and I've been incredibly excited about it. This was the first time I had ever seen an actual copy of it. I'm sure I worried my fellow book worms when I let out a strangled squeak and jumped up and down. I grabbed myself a copy and sat down and opened it (Side note: the cover is very glossy, even soft, and the pages crackle perfectly. I will never succumb to that abomination known as the e-book). I was even more pleased when I read the other works by J.K. Rowling page:

Yeah. It says IN LATIN. Latin cannot possibly be a dead language when the amazing Rowling herself makes a special category for her books translated in Latin!!!!!!!!! Take that, administrators that killed the Latin program at my school!!!

I am such a sucker for good cover design. I know you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but a beautiful cover is an elegant wrapping for a beautiful story.

I know the picture doesn't convey this well, but this is a hot pink copy of one of the greatest books of all time, Pride and Prejudice. I LOVE this! Especially the quote right under Jane Austen's name, because it sums up everything that makes this such a fantastic read. Even though I own my great aunt's vintage copy and my very own dog-eared copy, I was so close to taking this book home and giving it a prime position on my book shelf. But there were so many tempting books I decided to save my indulgence for something I didn't already own.

This is AMAZING AND PERFECT!!!! I read Tale of Two Cities in Freshman year and sobbed so much when I finished it, my mom knew I'd finished it from the wails she could hear from another room. The choice of knitting for the cover is spot on. Knitting is a major thing in this epic work, because the French rebel women knit as they watch the Guillotine slicing its way through the reign of terror. Especially the sinister Madam Defarge, who viciously seeks to destroy the life of one of the protagonists. She's always sitting, watching and scheming, all while her needles click and clack.

I have quite a few dream jobs. One of them is naming nail polish, because I love that they're all named something like "Blue Me Away" or "Green With Envy" or "Wrapped in Rubies." Designing book covers is another one. You only get one chance to seduce a reader into looking at your book, and good cover art is that one chance. I cringe when I see some of my favorite books in entirely inappropriate covers, like they're wearing sweatpants to a funeral. And these two books are perfect examples of how a book cover is the main medium for visually telling the story of the book, and interest readers in diving into its pages.

I'd need some serious scuba gear with all my reading if my metaphor/imagery was true. But it would be fabulous scuba gear, maybe hot pink with unicorns or kittens on it, or something.

Friday!!!!

Friday could not come soon enough this week. I am so worn out, I made an actual effort to pretend that I was dead when my dad was waking me up. I even held my breath, and focused on flopping lifelessly. Be the corpse. Didn't work, unfortunately.

I am continuing my Friday celebration of things that make getting out of bed in the morning worthwhile. This week, it's that wonderful tradition known Homecoming. You can probably surmise that it was Homecoming week at my school. I'm all for school pride (Go [insert generic mascot here]!) but the best thing is the theme days. Really, how often do you get to come to school in costume without getting beaten up? This year, the days were Multiplicity Day, Disney Day, Salad Dressing Day, Tacky Formal, and the usual Rebel Pride Day.

I don't know who on Student Council thought up Multiplicity Day, but Multiplicity doesn't actually mean what everyone thought it meant. It means a large variety, not getting as many people to wear the same thing as possible. Naturally, I dressed like this:

Tuesday was Disney Day, the best theme day ever thought up in the history of themes. I couldn't resist bringing my creative genius to the table and bringing to life one of the most eccentric characters ever to grace the pages of a book or the screen of a movie theater:

Me and a Fellow Mad Hatter

Wednesday was Salad Dressing Day (Juniors were Thousand Island), but I was too busy studying for Latin and History to whip up a grass skirt and lei. Thursday, however, was another chance to flex my fashion muscles in Tacky Formal.

Mustache socks make everything better

And Friday was Rebel Pride. I was going to lead a movement to dress like Jedi rebels from Star Wars, but everyone (including myself) was too stressed out with school work to make it work. 

Of course the choir will be singing the National Anthem and our Alma Mater before the football game, and that means I get a free ticket into the game (Score!). Create musical fusion, hang out with friends, cheer when everyone else cheers because I have no clue how football works. Sounds pretty good. Go Rebels!!!!

Latin! Y U No Make Sense?

Today is quite auspicious, because today is October 11, 2012. Dates are always important to students who constantly have to write them down on assignments, tests, and the like. So you're going to notice when something numerically fabulous is happening in the calendar. Today is 10/11/12. It gave all of us a tingle of joy when we marked the date on our papers, and there was always someone who cried aloud, "Hey, it's 10/11/12!" No big deal or anything, right? I know that sounds awfully exciting (note my sarcasm), but it really is.

First test on Vergil's Aeneid was this week. It's so sad that my life is controlled by a guy who has been dead for somewhere around two thousand years, but it's true. I can always count on having Latin homework, and I have to complete it in half the time I have to do homework for my other classes. But  I discovered a new studying method for Latin tests. Normally, I look over the correct translations and grammar notes to fix them in my brain like an ancient tumor, but I had the inspiration to make a recording of me reading the correct translation. I turned this recording into an audiobook, which I listened to on loop all that night and all the morning of the test. I have no idea what grade I got, but I did well... at least I hope so.

This section of Book IV of the Aeneid involves a very lengthy speech given by Jupiter to Mercury to take to Aeneas, ordering him to stop lingering with his lovely lady, Dido, in Carthage. He was giving numerous arguments to Mercury to make Aeneas go fulfill his destiny and found the Roman Empire. Suddenly, it hit me. What he really was saying was "Y U No Leave Carthage?" I couldn't resist turning it into a legit meme (I took a well-deserved break from my studying) and soon this followed:

Apparently Vergil wanted his manuscripts for the Aeneid burned after his death, but Augustus published them anyway (Duh, they were written to show how he was related to Venus and therefore awesome. He'd be throwing away high-class PR material). I am sure Vergil would be turning in his grave if I turned what he considered his imperfect work from its dactylic hexameter into an even cruder form of language. Although I'm sure he would be even more incensed with my awful translations that make no sense whatsoever. I'm going to pull an Augustus on this one and continue to do it anyway. It just proves that his ancient words are just as applicable and relevant in today's society and culture.

Flower in the Storm

You may have perhaps heard of the terrible events in Pakistan recently. Malala Yousufzai, aged 14, is a girl who has spoken out against the Taliban's attempts to stop the education of girls in the Swat region where she lives. She even has a blog about it, and is the first winner of Pakistan's National Peace Prize. A few days ago, the Taliban attacked her as she was coming home from school on the bus. They stopped the bus, asked for her by name, and shot her. Fortunately she is in stable condition.

I myself am a passionate supporter of women's rights and achieving equality all over the world. I often drown myself in books about women's suffering and courage and keep up to date with these issues. My dream job would be working for women's rights with an NGO. My heart goes out to Malala, because she is incredibly brave, and because she is so dedicated to learning. The greatest trouble I have going to school is getting there at 7:00 am, and she receives death threats and refuses to back down. I admire her as a fellow student, teenage girl, and human being, and wish I could let her know that people are cheering her on all across the globe. It is as if she is a flower and the storms of narrow-minded hate are trying to crush her, but she blooms even brighter because she refuses to bend to their force. We are both the same, just trying to get a good education and have a good life. Us and millions of students across the world. We cannot let anything stand in the way of the knowledge of life reaching our budding leaves. Malala went even further and cut down the shadowing oak trees to shed brilliant sunlight on the girls in her region. So, get better Malala. I can't wait to see your petals when you blossom.

Constitution Showdown

Another reason to take IB History: Powdered wigs are involved and highly encouraged. Our U.S. history class had a mock constitutional convention, where we were paired up and assigned delegates to impersonate. I would take nothing less than the Father of the Constitution, James Madison of Virginia. Dressing in suitable clothing was a grade requirement, but instead of going with a cute pair of flats, an adorable dress, and a jean jacket, I showed up in full 18th century gear. So did my partner.

Left to right: Rufus King, James Madison #1, James Madison #2

The debate was dazzling. As Madison, we had to present the Virginia Plan (the idea for representation that was based on population, the foundation of the current House of Representatives). My parter is nothing short of an artistic genius (She can just sit down and doodle an amazing work involving a knight riding a rooster and it looks like an image from an illustrated manuscript from the middle ages), and she contrived a fantastic rendering of the Virginia Plan, in patriotic colors no less.

I was surprised with how much I disagreed with James Madison's opinions, but I defended them to the death throughout our debate. At one point, to back up my assertion that a Bill of Rights was a bad idea, because listing some rights would involve the omission of others, I stood up and said, "Well, in 200 years, people may be arguing over a woman's right to choose what she does with her body or if homosexuals should be allowed to marry, just because we didn't get around to explicitly mentioning those things in our Bill of Rights." Current events are just as useful two centuries ago as they are now.

Eat your heart out, history nerds.