Injury

Right now I am reporting from my first day in study hall.  But first I would like to recount how I got here:

It was just a day, just an ordinary Wednesday.  Or so I thought.  I walked into gym class, second period, with a feeling of ennui.  I made some colloquial conversation with my friends, talking about television shows and nicknames.  Little did I know that my life was about to change.  So after we changed, Coleman announced that we would be playing volleyball.  "Okay," I thought, "I might be a little rusty, but I think I will be alright."  My subconscious was not aware of the ruse that fate was playing.  The first couple of games went okay, but then something terrible happened.  I looked up, and the ball was coming right toward me, its speed burgeoning.  I put up my hands to try and hit the ball, but the ball bent my finger backward.  At first it did not hurt too badly, and I played the rest of the game.  But when it was time for a rotation, I went to my gym teacher to tell him about the incident.  With his imprimatur, I looked for the nurse but she was not there, so he just gave me a bag of ice as an ephemeral solution.

Then I went to Spanish class with my bag of ice.  The teacher was reading a story, but much of my focus was concentrated on not succumbing to the pain.  Then the bag of ice fell off the desk, and it sounded like it might as well have been a glass vase.   Everyone turned to look at me.  I tried to maintain sang-froid, but it might just be the nadir of my life.  Then came seventh period.  My friend took me to see the trainer, because (I don't want to sound supercilious, but) we both knew that the nurse was incompetent.  My finger "might be fine," or I "may not be able to bend it again," he equivocated.  Luckily, I was not credulous.  To say the least, my day was extremely long.

Finally I went to the doctor after school, who took an x-ray and said that I "hyperextended" my finger.  I was thankful that it wasn't broken, but even more thankful that I would not have to take gym for the next two weeks =)

The Great Debaters

Yesterday I watched the movie "The Great Debaters" for the first time, and it really moved me.  It follows the story of the debate team from a small African-American college in Texas in the 1930s.  The movie goes into detail about what it was like living in the South at this time.  The viewer clearly sees the distinct social divide between whites and blacks, even though slavery was abrogated seventy years before.  The movie follows the four members of the debate team, who are extremely intelligent African Americans, and it is interesting to see how white people in the South, although much less educated than these African Americans, hectored and disparaged these people.  There was one point in the movie when the team was driving to a debate at night, and they came upon an angry white mob that was lynching an African American for no reason except for the fact that he was black.  This left a stigma upon the team, and they never forgot what they saw there.

This really helped me to understand what is currently going on 

today in our society.  When Barack Obama was elected to the presidency, I wondered, "Why is everyone making such a big deal about this?"  Yes, I understood that it was a 

historic event because he will be the first African-American president.  However, growing up in the liberal household that I did, I did not understand why he couldn't he just be someone running for president.  Why does he have to be labeled as "The first African-American President?"  I feared that all that he would be remembered for would

be his race, not his accomplishments.  However, I now understand why America was so passionate about Barack Obama.  It is one thing to learn about black oppression in history class, but it is another thing actually see it happen like I did in "The Great Debaters."   At the end of the movie, when the debate team becomes the first African-American team to not only debate against Harvard, but also win, it gave me the same feeling as I had when I watched Barack Obama win the election: A feeling of hope for the future.

Dear Bianca,

Dear Bianca,

Tap, tap, tap, tap goes the sound of my new cranberry ballet flats on the grimy floor of the hallway.  I stand there, waiting for you to come out of your art class so that we can walk up the crowded breezeway staircase to English class.  God forbid that I should leave without you, for if I do I will be castigated when you arrive and receive an infinite number of condescending glares throughout the period.  Finally you come out of the art room.  First you make some sarcastic comment, excoriating either my choice of wearing a "summer scarf" or possibly my matching abilities, and then you let me know how malcontent you are with your life.  Then you trip over a stair or get hit by a door, proving yourself to be maladroit once again.  I laugh, not because I am deriding you or getting enjoyment out of your clumsiness, but because I can sympathize.  After successfully arriving to the English room after the treacherous journey up the crowded staircase, we sit down.  We exchange amusing stories from throughout the day, and compete to determine who is the hungriest.  Then Mrs. Abrams walks in, I hear the daily "Ohh yeahh!!" from the hallway, and the class begins.

Scene 2 of The Glass Menagerie

Today in class we were having a very interesting discussion about Scene 2 of The Glass Menagerie that I just had to blog about.  At one point we were discussing whether Laura's refusal to attend school was part of her trying to be independent or if she just did not have the drive.   I believe that her absence from school was her trying to break free of her mother's shadow.  I do not think that Laura did not have the drive; I think her drive was that she did not want to end up like her mother.  In my view, Tom and Laura see Amanda as the enemy - as the exact antipode of what they hope to be.  Laura did not want to beguile her mother by not going to school, she just realized that not every woman has to follow the stereotype that Amanda wants her to follow.  She saw business school as being quixotic for her, and she wanted to follow her own path.

Samantha Bari Brown

Samantha.  Sam.  Sammy.  Sam-sam.  What more can I say?  This cameo will not be able to sum up Samantha Bari Brown's ingenue.  Sam uses bombast in order to try and impress people.  She also thinks that she is eminent compared to everyone else, and I feel like one of her minions when I am around her.  She also commandeers every situation, which can sometimes actually be a good think because she is very efficient in doing her work.  I know this may seem like a paroxysm against Sam, but I'm just kidding.  I would like to preclude saying anything else bad about her, because she is really a wonderful person, and I just needed to finish up all of my vocabulary words, to be truthful.

Sam is also a good person.  I have known her for 12 years, and we live one house away from each other.  She is always there for me, and she is a great friend.  I would not abjure my friendship with her for the world.

Samantha Bari Brown.  Is she a good person?  A bad person?  Well, one thing's for sure.  She's an enigma.

Fourth Period Lunch

Right now I am sitting with my friends at my lunch table, during fourth period.  I had a bacchanal when I received my schedule this summer and found that I had fourth period lunch, because for the past two years I had been cursed with the dreadful seventh period lunch plague.  As I saw my sister walking into the house with the mail, I importuned her for my schedule.  Finally there was an abeyance in my nagging and she gave it to me.  At first I was chary, scared of getting seventh period lunch again.  When I saw that I had fourth period lunch, I was so maudlin.  The lucky witnesses to this monumental event said that I had brio in my eyes.  On the first day of school, I proudly walked into the cafeteria during fourth period, not having to clench my stomach with exacerbating hunger.  It was quite an aberration from what I was used to.

Summer 2008

This past summer was very eventful.  At the beginning of July I attended a Penn State Summer Study Program for three and a half weeks.  I entered my dorm on the first day and met my roommate, Rachel.  She was very gregarious, so I never felt like a pariah.  By the second night we were so close that I felt like I had known her forever.  She exhorted me to take risks, and I helped her to imbue a sense of confidence within herself.  I made so many great friends during this summer who I will never forget.

Just a couple of days after my return from Penn State, my family and I jetted off to Italy.  We traveled on a Tauck Tour, which was very organized and not at all desultory.  We traveled 

across Italy on a bus with 36 other American tourists.  We traveled to Milan, Venice, Florence, and Rome.  My father, being the epicure that he is, had a wonderful time trying out all of the Italian restaurants.  In my opinion, Venice and Rome were complete antipodes.  Venice was halcyon

 while Rome was very busy and upbeat.  One cultural difference between the United States and Italy was that every time we went to a restaurant, we had to order bottled water because the tap water in Italy is not potable.  In conclusion, I had an extremely eventful summer.