i managed to meet up with c who escorted me to where our highly flammable robes, funny hats, and diplomas would be handed out. just seeing him made it all better and i entered the gym feeling good about life. seeing the rest of my classmates trickle in hammered the final nails in the coffin of my bad mood ("and the most awkward metaphor award goes to…") and i got robed and hooded and behatted with a smile on my face.
the ceremony was as such things go: many congratulatory speeches, applause, cheers, tearful bits, smiley bits, and then our class got called up. i made it up and down the stair sans either a wardrobe malfunction or a face plant, which, in itself, was a major success. and so i am now officially a master of something (notably a shitty phone camera because we forgot our actual camera at home. yes. yes, we did. i am just as shocked as you are, if not more):
the convocation was followed by a formal champagne reception (with no champagne, because…well, i dunno, you tell me!), which was followed by an informal restaurant reception. then mr. monkey took the bus home, while k and i decided that the way to truly celebrate this momentous occasion was to have as many different kinds of liquor in as many different venues as possible…well, we didn't actually decide, it just sorta happened. we drank ciders and wine at the restaurant, we drank really good old-fashioneds at b's place, we walked over to crusty juggler's place where i was staying and drank nearly half a bottle of champagne each, then took a cab to my favourite prof's place where we proceeded to (i think) drink a lot of wine, talk to a lot of people, and eventually be the very last ones to leave.
i am fairly certain neither one of us wore a lampshade at any point in the evening, and equally certain that no public peeing or nudity took place. we did, however, insist on walking home despite a less than perfect knowledge of the vicinity. turns out my drunk compass is pretty fucking great because we found our way home via parks, stairs and odd little neighbourhoods in record time. k made herself comfortable on the couch and, because our judgment was more than a little impaired, we dug into crusty juggler's special chips that she was saving for her dad (drunk people will eat your shit. know this) before finally going to bed around 1:30am.
we woke up around 6am (hello alcohol, you fiend!) and knew that no more sleep was to be had. frankly, i suspect we were still running on fumes from the night before as our ability to form complete sentences was less than stellar; our ability to form sentences that were a propos to the conversation at hand was even worse. despite this, we managed to:
a. (very slowly) figure out what time the breakfast place opened (7am!)
b. (very tentatively) capture a wasp and release it into the wild
c. (very determinedly) utterly fail to retrieve crusty juggler's mail from the mailbox (keys=hard)
d. (very embarrassingly) even more utterly fail to pick up the three items crusty juggler requested i bring her (she's in edmonton for the summer)
e. (very successfully) get in the car and drive home, laughing almost incessantly
i came into work at noon, expecting madness, only to find out that the project i was to be slogging my way through was deemed a no-go. my boss came by, took one look at my haggard old lady face and told me to go home. and so i went home.
overall, i'd say it was a raging success. all of it. every last damn thing.