And so it ends…

Today was our last day of high school. Though we have yet to receive our diplomas and have yet to go through the graduation ceremonies, all work and such officially ended today. I have been restraining my tears throughout this entire week for it is a bittersweet end to what I’ve been working for the past 5-6 years. Contrary to what I expected, it was anti-climatic without appearing to be so. I feel that this is one of the high points of my life even despite all the struggles (particularly this year).

One of my teachers, who is known to be a big softie could not restrain his tears. He made me realise today what a great person he is, both as teacher and as human being. I have of course been touched by all my IB teachers, and though some have been the rotten apples in a good bushel, even bitter tastes afford for one an acquired skill in discriminating between the good and the awful.

I cried a little also when I realised that my journey in this stage of life has ended.

I’m weary of everyone, to be honest, and I’m glad I’m not participating in certain traditional high school activities. It’s time for me to retreat for the next three months before I officially matriculate into my college. People have begun to notice that gradually I am withdrawing, and for that there are many reasons. But I digress.

One week from today, Life After IB commences. That of course means that this blog has reached its end.

I began this blog almost two years ago in the hopes of recording my experiences with the programme. I hope that others will read it and be inspired to reflect on their experiences as I have often done. Though many posts were written in frustration, in sarcasm, in depression, I have tried to be as honest as possible to convey “realism”. In retrospect what I have complained about in the past has shaped everything about me.

Ultimately I find that my experiences in the IB programme have truly been rewarding.Though others may disagree, may find it a waste of time as I have often thought it to be sometimes, and though I repeat myself often what I have gained from this experience extends well beyond the walls of a classroom, well beyond the academic constraints to which we have been acclimated. For you see, the IB Programme is not something its students will like WHILE they are immersed in its glory, but it is a learning experience to which they will look back and think, gosh I cannot believe I went through all that but somehow I’m glad I did.

I’m sure that even when I am old and lonely as is my destiny to be I will look back on my IB years as simultaneously harrowing and enjoyable (GASP!).

Non, je ne regrette rien…

The end of testing!

Hoorah!

Stairway to…Hell! D:

Today began Week 2 of my ever illustrious experiences testing for the IB Diploma. Fantastic stuff. Of course. English A1 is over and done with, however, so in that I find comfort (along with the fact that I’ve only two more subjects to go and I am over and done with IB tests for the rest of my life!!–erm, if I don’t end up an academic paid to be an IB examiner, that is).

It is literally a stairway to hell, however, when one is on their way to the main testing room, which is in the basement of the school. I call them the Dungeons because I am still a nerdy Harry Potter fan at heart (and because I’ve begun to think of sitting for exams as a magical experience, which is delusional of course).

In the Dungeons 100, sometimes less, test-takers are locked (literally) inside because Saged IB Coordinator locks the door. It’s like a prison with maximum security as headed by our Saged, Possibly Senile IB Coordinator Who Is Quite Possibly As Old as the School. Only one person can enter and exit at a time (unless it is a break), and Miss Saged IB Coordinator is the main interloper between the disintegrating desks and freedom.

The pipes on the ceiling apparently drip some greasy substance (or perhaps it was actually Pine-Sol, but I’m not so sure). It is to those pipes I fix my eyes when I finish testing early. I imagine all the nasty things that pass through them (the POTIONS chambres are nearby, and who knows what crap they dump into those drains).

Rumour has it that the door nearby the testing room leads to a dark and creepy tunnel (which I will definitely explore before I graduate), which is itself connected to the other building of my school. For all I know it could be completely mundane, but still, I must satiate the curiousity that so drives me like emotion does Jane Eyre. Curiosity! Restraint! Curiosity! RESTRAINT! EMOTION! LOVE! FIRE! FIERY LOVE!!!

Right, I’m going mad. Anyways! [On a side note, we have a horseload of final projects to complete. One of them involves becoming a character in one of the novels we've read for English A1. I intend to become a modern-day version of Jane Eyre for the next few weeks. If anyone asks why I'm so passionate, it is all part of what we sophisticated actresses call method acting, though others, especially literature teachers may come to know it as Ways of Annoying Your IB Teacher. *evil grin*]

As this blog reaches its end, I’m considering showing it to one of my IB Teachers in the hopes that they will find it mildly entertaining. I’ve said some

One down, three more to go

The server that hosts this site has been sick lately. But now it appears to be better.

My goodness. I survived the first week of IB testing!

All my higher levels that I worried about are over with, including some of my standard levels. Now just half of English A1 HL, French B SL, Physics SL to with which to deal. Then those pesky AP tests for which I hope I receive university credits will be coming as well.

I surely hope I did okay on those tests. My projected scores were pretty good (save for Physics, at which I am apparently hopeless); 6s and 7s for everything but the aforementioned. Let’s hope my projections are realised.

Aside from testing it’s finally hit me that I am to graduate REALLY REALLY REALLY soon (two weeks after testing ends! My goodness) from high school and go on to that previously elusive Land of University. I am the only one in our IB class to attend my post-secondary institution, so I shall be obliged to make new friends with whom I will share delectable and most definitely embellished details of my otherwise monotonous experiences in IB. That only means, of course, that my network of people will be expanded. Which could potentially entail my making more enemies as well. Exciting stuff, yes?

Speaking of said post-secondary institution, I’m ashamed to admit this but in many ways it is a continuation of IB. Yes, there. I said it. It is a continuation because of its emphasis on internationalism, blah blah blah international studies blah I’m going to major in that blah blah cheesy schweesy stuff IB inspired me to do so blah.

There were quite a few people from last year’s IB class who matriculated into Ivies and were in general super-hyper-uber-overachievers. Our class this year, though very intelligent, tend to be less…diligent, let’s say. Most are not members and officers of every freaking club. Save for like 5 people out of 83 (those 5 people are both super smart and hardworking, a frightening combination), most will be attending really great schools.

Later on I’ll post about my memories of IB.

The Month of Testing!

Begins tomorrow! Oh noes, tis the real thing.

In honour of this momentous occasion for which I’ve been preparing for in the past few weeks (hence my absence) I’ve written a song (which is far from brilliant or even good, but whatever).

The time is near
And I fear
That I’ll fail all my tests
But nevertheless
I’ll try to do my best.

English A1 tomorrow!
Will I crack or go?

I’ve a commentary
To write
And I’ll sigh
At Paper 1’s sight.

“Focus on all the techniques,”
My teacher said,
“And they’ll be impressed,”
These were the words we were spoonfed.

What passage and what poem will I face?
What techniques will I see?
I don’t know if I can do it brilliantly
But I’ll try my best in this case…