It is that dreaded time of year again, finals. 
After a full semester of work all I have to show for it is a bunch of pieces of crumpled papers in the bottom of my backpack and the ink my teacher puts on my test telling me how I did in their class this semester.
This time is stressful for all, and I try to not get caught up in the stress, but there is just no way around it.
Honestly, most finals for me aren’t too hard.
Math? Easy.
Science? Easy.
English? Easy
History? No sir.
A lot of people ask me what I’m interested in other than football and ranting about football. I like to follow literally everything about that sport. But there are other things that I love as well.
I also love firearms. I love weaponry, hunting, sniping, archery, anything that involves loading up a projectile and shooting it away.
My favorite type of weapons are pistols. I enjoy shooting for recreation on ranches outdoors, as well as going to indoor ranges and firing off a few clips.
A few times, my family and I have taken some friends and gone down to Waco, Texas where a friend of my father’s has a ranch full of animals and trap shooters, which fire clay pigeons into the air to practice shotgun aim. While I enjoy firing a long gun, I particularly have a certain fondness of the handguns.
I feel that a handgun allows you to become more personal with yourself and your firearm. A bond can be built between a man and his best gun.
I have not shot enough to build that kind of bond with any guy. However, I have shot a 45 magnum pistol, a colt 22 revolver and a 9mm “cop” gun. All are great guns, but I love the 45. That’s my favorite firearm to date.
Another thing similar to myself and these guns is the connection to the History channel show, “Top Shot”, which is a reality contest show where the contestants compete to be the best marksmen.
I love the show because I can learn about new guns, shooting techniques and get to watch some wild shooting talent such as trick shooting and sharp shooting. It’s an adrenaline rush. As I write this, I’m watching a guy try to shoot a bullet to make contact with the blade of an axe. Axe blades are VERY skinny.
The weirdest part about that shot is that one guy actually was able to split the bullet. He split a bullet in half by shooting onto an axe blade.
It’s completely wild. I love this stuff. Watching things explode and watching guys load up and fire away is just a rush.
My favorite chocolate brand is Godiva. I call it the chocolate heaven.
The famous story of Lady Godiva is the inspiration behind the Godiva Chocolatier name. In the 11th century, Lady Godiva and her husband Lord Leofric lived in Coventry, England. Lord Leofric was a powerful ruler who was unsympathetic to the citizens of his kingdom. Lady Godiva, however, was a woman of great generosity who had dedicated her life to the impoverished and stricken.
When Lord Leofric imposed a heavy burden of taxation upon his subjects, Lady Godiva protested. In response, Lord Leofric set forth this challenge: If his wife rode naked through the streets, the taxation would be lifted. Lady Godiva was a modest woman, but she immediately agreed to this challenge to help her fellow townspeople.
Centuries later in 1926, Godiva founder and master chocolatier Joseph Draps created a new line of Belgian chocolates with extraordinary richness, premium quality, and iconic style. He sought a name for his company that embodied timeless values balanced with modern boldness – much like our lady of legend. The choice became clear to Draps: He named his company GODIVA.
I was lucky enough to have a chance to visit Lijiang with my parents this summer. And till now, I still believe that my soul has settled in Lijiang and it could not escape from there any more.
Lijiang, a popular destination in Yunnan,the southern part in China, is considered a fairyland blessed with fresh air, clear streams, breathtaking snow mountains and an undisturbed landscape inhabited by a friendly group of people. The Old Town there is graced by well preserved ancient buildings and the Naxi culture.
One of the most attractive feature is the way people live and the mood of the city. I clearly remember the very first moment when I stepped into the Old Town which lied in the center of the city – the peace and comfort strongly flipped my heart.
The small-sized houses stand together to create an atmosphere of unity. The colors are mostly grey and dark blue that take people back to the past. People live in a slow and leisurely pace. Most residents work as tour guides and the olds spend most of their time dancing and singing. The whole mood of the town is peace but joy.
So handsome and young
You ride into battle
Fair skin, clear eyes
Curling, wavy, long hair
Student of Aristotle
Your brilliance was blinding
Military, studying
You exceeded all men
Killing animals, hunting
Slaying men without regret
You showed your potential
To rule all the world
Alexander, Alexander
Up on your white house
You lived like a god
But died a mere mortal
Blessed by Athena
Undefeated in battle
Your arm tireless,
Never ceasing
You lead from the front
Charging into the fray
Unafraid of dark Hades
You earn the loyalty of men
Vanquishing Persians
Greeks and Indians
None stood against
Your Macedonian might
Son of your mother
Beautiful Olympias
Snake-lover, murderess
Devoted to you
Son of your father
Philip the Second
Olympic Games victor
Dead by Macedonian hand
Conqueror, Pharaoh
Ruler of Persia
Ended the Gordian Knot
With a flick of your knife
You white horse
Faithful in battle
Dead in India
A city named for him
You married a Persian
The noble Roxana
An attempt to unite
The greatest of empires
Friend of Hephaestion
We you brothers or lovers?
Claimed he was “Alexander too”
Drank the red wine
Worshiping Dion
Until rosy-fingered Eos
Opened bright eyes
Fell ill at a banquet
Catching fever and sickness
Poison? The Gods?
You died so soon after
In death, you were beautiful
Still handsome as Endymion
Seemed to only be sleeping
Like Selene’s drowsy beloved
Alexander, Alexander
Who were you my love?
God, mortal, or other?
Still no one knows
Alexander, Alexander
Whatever you are
I’ll be yours forever
Even death can’t us part
Hateful, spiteful, repeating
Underneath a persons very skin
Men and women struggle
And it is then that war begins
New information and cultures appear
Illegal feelings and thoughts
The end of life as we know it
Your battle is one quickly lost
Open ones mind and ones thoughts
Verify every fact
Each life can be worth living
Reaching forward, but never back
Creating a false world
Readily defended lies
Up, and up, and up you build
Eventually puncturing the skies
Leave your ignorance, and hate, and carelessness
Take nothing with you at all
You are only as big as your every fear
And even you will eventually fall.
This is my last blog of the year-the last blog as a junior.
So should I write about?
Well, I can write about almost anything. About how my friends are leaving in a eight days, or how maybe I found out that I became president. I could write about how I will be going to Chicago this summer for a medicine forum. Or I could talk about unicorns and how much I ABHOR butterflies. Ick.
But, I feel like my last blog should be more substantial than my usual potpourri. My final blog should be more.
This blog (my last blog) is a tribute to a very special person. A teacher to be more specific.
I have had him teach me in a subject every single year that I have been here at Ojai Valley School Upper Campus.
The greatest thing about this man is that he knows when and how to push me to my greatest potential. I don’t think I have learned more about my own limits than I have when I was learning from this teacher.
He has an interesting way of teaching. History, which is the subject he teaches, happens to be the subject I hate the most. But, when I learned it from him, it was my favorite subject. It was because of his humorous way of teaching that engaged all of his students and made everybody love taking his class. But this teacher is not just jokes but he knows when to be serious and knows motivate his students to do their best.
Mr. Alvarez, you are not only my favorite teacher, but you are my coach and one of the people I look up to. You are great and I am happy that I was fortunate enough to take your classes every year. Thank you for being such an excellent teacher and for motivating me to always do my best. I can’t wait for journalism next year, during my senior year. Haha hopefully, you will be able to put up with my major college stress and senioritis.
Yesterday was grueling.
I dragged my legs as I forced myself to the Lecture Hall. I sighed as I saw the cold metal door knob and my opaque reflection on the still glass door. Then I went in.
It was torture. Hours and hours of math. I panicked. I think I did horribly.
With a bad mood, I went to the cafeteria to grab lunch before my track meet. With my Princeton Review AP U.S. History Exam book in hand, I trudged to the big, yellow Ojai Valley School bus.
The meet got a lot off my shoulders and I managed to get a lot of studying done. I met my friends at Cate School, Denali and Blake, both friends from 8th grade and that got a lot of stress and grief from my AP exam earlier that day. It helped me realize that I shouldn’t stress but I should try my best for the next test because I can’t change the my previous test score but I can try to get the best score for my next AP test.
Next:
Tomorrow, A.P. U.S. History.
Wish me luck!
As I was working on my second Decades Paper for my history class, the dusty shelves in the memory department of my brain were revisited. My eyes fell upon a small paragraph, containing information that I would have probably just skimmed over had it not sparked something in the murky abyss of my memories. Two words reminded me of the struggles of countless students and even more so of one brave civilian who decided he had enough.
Tiananmen Square, 1989.
Students, mothers, fathers. Civilians alike banded together in the name of political reform. They had just lost a leader and strong liberalization advocate, Hu Yaobang, and felt it was in their hands to fight for the changes they wanted to see. And fight they did.
Through mainly non-violent protests, more and more people joined the cause for a more liberal government. However, the communist government fought back, mercilessly.
Buildings were on fire. Rubble and debris littered the floor. Many civilian lives were lost. However, throughout this fear for the government and citizen lives, one man refused to back down. One ordinary man who did an extraordinary act.
This is a video of the man who courageously stopped a row of tanks.
It’s quite breathtaking. To have the strength to go alone in front of tanks that can crush the human body in a matter of seconds.
Silently, I scolded myself for having let the dust collect over such a power event in those shelves of mine. So I decided to blog about this single event. This event happened 21 years ago, way before I was even born. I had almost forgotten this important moment as I am sure many other who will read this blog have as well. I am writing this blog to remind people that such bravery exists in today’s society and to inspire those who have never heard of this man-whose name I don’t even know-that stood against the row of tanks.
To learn more about this event watch the following video:
OVS Journalism Blog 