I’ve been dealing with far too many words lately, and can’t really spare any for LiveJournal.  This perhaps comes as a result of the gigantic crock of shit that has landed on my desk in the past couple of weeks, consisting of all of my college applications, the growing possibility that I’m not going to get my IB diploma, and a fairly obnoxious sinus infection that has only recently gone away.  College applications aren’t anything particularly unique, so let’s start with the most interesting of these crises; namely, the IB diploma.

To get an IB diploma, you have to complete 150 hours of community service, categorized into three arbitrary and absurd divisions entitled “creativity,” “action,” and “service.”  My three answers to those categories are debate, my volunteering this summer, and Young Judaea, respectively, all of which meet the requirements for IB community service, as far as I can tell.  Of course, this doesn’t factor in the IB community service coordinator who isn’t an IB teacher and has a personal vendetta against me.  Without going into a lot of the details, here’s an except (paraphrased, of course) from my meeting with her and the IB coordinator at Atlantic today:

Barnes:  Only the explicit community outreach activities will count as community service in regards to Young Judaea.
Me:  Is education not outreach?
Barnes:  It’s not what we’re looking for.
Me:  So, teaching people in the community about the state of Israel isn’t a public service?
Barnes:  It’s not CAS.
Me:  There’s a guidebook about CAS published by the IB Organization.  Does the school have a copy of that?
Youngman:  Yes…
Me:  Would it be possible for me or my parents to see that?  The decision is yours, but I’d like to know what the full description of all these categories are.
Youngman:  You can…
Me:  Okay.
Barnes:  So, you still need to account for 100 hours.  Let’s work on a new proposal.
Me:  And my Young Judaea hours..?
Barnes:  Only those that are specifically outreach will be acceptable.
Me:  Well, that’s what I’m disputing.  Not only do I have your signature approving the activity explicitly, but it has been used by diploma recipients in the past.
Barnes:  I don’t talk about other students.

And so it continues ad nauseam.  I was almost twitching with anger when I got back to Theory of Knowledge.  It’s ridiculous to think that this imbecile has the ability to invalidate four years of my work in a program that can only be described as “hell.”  But that word seems sort of apt now — to hell with the diploma.  In the event that my parents aren’t successful in changing anything tomorrow, I’ll just pay to sit for my exams individually and get course credit instead of a diploma.  At this point, that’s easier to do than argue with the brick wall that is Audrey Barnes.