Today I finished skimming  reading Great Expectations by Charles Dickens for my AP Literature class.  Usually after reading a classic novel I either feel a) delighted from feeling somewhat more enlightened than I was coming into reading the novel or b) disappointed because I didn’t feel like I gained anything from the novel. My response to Great Expectations fell more onto the latter, however, I felt a mix of disappointment and depression. Weirdly enough, a novel has never made me feel homesick-like depressed for the characters in a novel; usually it’s just pity. I guess what I’m aiming at is the relationship between Pip and Estella in the novel.

First of all, I’d just like to say that Estella is probably one of the most disappointing (and slightly underdeveloped) female characters that I have ever read about in a novel. That has partially to do with Dickens writing style; I literally felt like the conflict was unresolved at the end of the novel, and the romantic moments between Pip and Estella were weak. Sure, Estella was raised up my the vengeful Miss Havisham and was a product of her upbringing, but there just seemed to be something missing. Her actions seemed off, even for one so heartless as her; her actions were simply irrational and quite ridiculous in respect.

Pip, on the other hand, I give my whole sympathy and pity to. In a way, he reminds me of the Jay Gatsby in The Great Gatsby or the Willy Loman in Death of a Salesman. They all aspire to the American Dream but, work as they might, they see it slip away through their fingers; the Dream always staying one step ahead of them. For Pip, it was Estella. Estella represented the higher class; the lifestyle that Pip always idealized. After meeting Miss Havisham and Estella, Pip realized what a shameful and low-class life he led. Utterly afraid that Estella would one day peep into his blacksmith home and feel further contempt for him, Pip decided to change his whole outlook on life, hoping in these efforts to receive Estella’s acceptance that he had always wished for.

But as we all know, the American Dream dies for him too. Estella realizes his affection for her but further alienates him by marrying Bentley Drummle, a stupid brute. (like no kidding. That’s what they say in the book.) After reading this far, I kind of just slammed the book on the floor and was like, “I’m done here”. I was really disappointed in Estella and found her obtuseness to be quite annoying. When I say this, people will just blame it on her poor upbringing, but I can’t give her that much credit; how could she treat Pip like that after he just poured his whole heart out to her? (Even Miss Havisham felt bad for Pip.)

A few years pass and Estella (not surprisingly) has divorced Drummle after claims of domestic abuse. Drummle himself actually dies in a horse accident, leaving Estella to return to the Satis House where she meets Pip one day. Now here is the most disappointing and heartbreaking part. Pip meets Estella to see how she is doing and they end of reconciling their friendship. So, I’m going to opt out of my plot summary narrative voice here and say, WHY ESTELLA? WHY?? After Pip had warned her about Drummle’s bad nature and confessed his lifelong love for her, she still says that they can only be friends. I’m sorry if this is going to end up being a Estella bitching post, but at least give him the satisfaction of having a shot at a real relationship. That’s the least you can do.

So…my rant about Estella is over. I feel slightly less depressed about the whole outcome of the novel. In the mean time, I’ll be reading Fan Fictions where Pip and Estella end up the right way.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

By Robert Frost

Recently, three girls who attend my school were involved in a car crash on a local road near my school. All three were rushed to our university’s medical center; one suffered brain damage and was put on life support while another lost her right eye.

Today it was announced that one of the girls had died. She was only 15 years old.

Although I had never known any of the girls involved in the accident, I felt a deep connection with them; it pains me to think about it because in a way, their pain was my pain. These last few days have got me to realize how precious life is. The most important and most powerful lessons of life aren’t learned in a textbook or in a classroom, but in the most sudden and unexpected events that warn us to grab at life with all our might because if not, it might just slip through our fingers like sand.

HAPPY 11/11/11!!!

Since it’s 11/11/11 today, I thought I would write/blog/put up pictures here to savor the memory of the day, considering it only comes around every 100 years.

So today was PSAT day! You cannot imagine how unhappy I felt about taking the test. Even though I had gotten pretty comfortable with the few practice tests I had done just before the test, I still knew today was going to be one heck of a day. So instead of just simply writing about my anxieties of the day, I thought I would express it through cartoons! 
I got to my test room at around 8:30 this morning. The proctor was one those stingy and snappy counselors. Like a proper proctor, she read all the instructions on the PSAT pamphlet. Instead of asking us to climb a tree, she informed us that as a fair way to gauge the selection of National Merit qualifiers, we would have to take a 2 hour and 10 minutes test that consisted of four 25 minute sections and one 30 minute section.

When I was handed my test packet and answer sheet, I immediately started sweating. What if there was a question I didn’t know? Would I have enough time to finish all the questions? Should I guess or leave a question blank if I don’t know it? These were questions that I probed myself with before the test. The more I looked at the test packet, the more I saw the words, “The Rest of Your Life!”. (It didn’t help that the room juxtaposed to my testing room was the copier room. So throughout the whole test I could hear the copiers go “ca-chunk” the whole time.)

The sad part about educational testing  these days is that you have to answer the right questions at the right time. If you don’t, then boy that’s too bad. I’m the girl in the middle of the picture; I’m just hoping that I’ll fit right in.

One of my homework assignments in AP Lit this week was to post a response to my class blog about the “creativity crisis” in America and our school systems. I thought I would share my thoughts here in hopes of enlightening those who might be dropping by here. Like always, enjoy!

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————–

I believe that our country’s decline in creativity has the majority to do with our growing complacency and self-satisfaction with our lifestyles. This largely stems from advancements in technology and the internet. Nowadays we can nurture our slightest curiosities by simply typing a few words into Google, and we will almost always be guaranteed with a satisfactory answer in return. Despite some arguments posted earlier which claim that the internet can stimulate creative ideas, I believe that most people abuse the internet as a way to find a “quick fix” to homework or projects instead of using it as a creative source to draw from. My final remarks about technology and the internet is that both make people lazy and unwilling to work hard or innovatively to find a solution to a problem.

The creativity crisis in schools in just as alarming and can be considered even more alarming than that of which our country is suffering from right now. I believe our country is too focused on standardized testing. This is because our country functions the education system like a “business”; they try to find the most expedient ways possible to produce the same results. I will play the devil’s advocate for a minute. Standardized tests, for one, are a cheap, easy and an uniform way to test students across the board. Ironically, they don’t require much creativity. On the other hand, being creative in education is expensive. If all the questions on tests were free response instead of multiple choice, we’d have to pay people to come in to read them—both of which would require time and money.

Because it is most unlikely that our country will chug more money into education, I would suggest that parents get more involved in their child’s education. Hopefully through this encouragement, students will find education a passionate pursuit for knowledge instead of simply a chore. Creativity is the reason we stay fresh. Creativity is the reason we are not living in caves right now. Creativity is what pushes us forward.

although this blog seems like it.

I have an immense urge to write something here despite the fact that I should be studying for a whopping huge Calculus exam that I have tomorrow and preparing for an ethics presentation for AP Lit on Friday. Oh, and did I also mention I have a Microbiology presentation tomorrow too? And the two lab reports that are also due? Plus chapter notes for US History? Wow, isn’t my life great? (At this moment, I really wished that sarcasm translated through the internet.)

It’s 8:24 and I should be getting to my homework. But I’m not. Instead, I am writing a blog post to complain about my academic life, while trying to find some solace in putting off my homework to the very last minute. The very thought of studying or thinking about my AP Lit presentation just brings a wave of uncalled for nausea, stress, and panic. It brings me even more sadness to realize that at the start of every Monday, the weekly progession from relaxation to mild stress to panic and finally to hysterical frenzy will repeat itself 25 times before I can get a whiff of peace. Oh how I miss summer.

It’s 8:32. I should really be getting to my homework now. Let the stressing begin.