One Day Further
Dear Blog,
Yesterday were the 125th commencement ceremonies. They were a bit more entertaining than things that start at 8:30 in the morning ought to be. We all wore costumes with funny hats. The band was there. There were heraldic flags. The provost wore a cape. White doves. A right crapload of pomp and circumstance.
It would have been disheartening that, when it came time to sing the alma mater, no one knew the lyrics or how the song goes, except it was much more enjoyable that way because we all sang anyway.
The dude read my name out. I marched across stage. Handshake, smile, photo. Handshake, smile, photo. Stand here, look at me, hold that up, smile, photo. Stand here, look at me, put that down, smile, photo. End of march. (Middle of May.)
Then, to a horrendous loop of "Pomp and Circumstance" Op. 39: March, No. 1 in D, we recessed, and that was it; it was over. That was the end. Well, it was really the beginning, they say, but it was the end too. Nobody seems to admit that, but it is, and it's just as much cause to celebrate.
And celebrate we did. Start with a mimosa (or "asskicker," as I call it, because it sounds less dainty that way) and work your way to tomorrow. Dinner here. Party there. Dinner here. Went to Seven Grand in downtown. It was pretty neat. I developed an adjective to describe it: lowded. Or croud.
Yesterday were the 125th commencement ceremonies. They were a bit more entertaining than things that start at 8:30 in the morning ought to be. We all wore costumes with funny hats. The band was there. There were heraldic flags. The provost wore a cape. White doves. A right crapload of pomp and circumstance.
It would have been disheartening that, when it came time to sing the alma mater, no one knew the lyrics or how the song goes, except it was much more enjoyable that way because we all sang anyway.
The dude read my name out. I marched across stage. Handshake, smile, photo. Handshake, smile, photo. Stand here, look at me, hold that up, smile, photo. Stand here, look at me, put that down, smile, photo. End of march. (Middle of May.)
Then, to a horrendous loop of "Pomp and Circumstance" Op. 39: March, No. 1 in D, we recessed, and that was it; it was over. That was the end. Well, it was really the beginning, they say, but it was the end too. Nobody seems to admit that, but it is, and it's just as much cause to celebrate.
And celebrate we did. Start with a mimosa (or "asskicker," as I call it, because it sounds less dainty that way) and work your way to tomorrow. Dinner here. Party there. Dinner here. Went to Seven Grand in downtown. It was pretty neat. I developed an adjective to describe it: lowded. Or croud.
posted by Jesse at
8:34 AM
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