We never thought this day would come. We prayed for it's quick delivery, crossed days off our calendars, counted hours, minutes and seconds, and now that it's here, I'm sorry it is because it means leaving friends who inspire me and teachers who have been my mentors - so many people who have shaped my life and my fellow students' lives impermeably and forever.
Those words come from Rory Gilmore's speech at her high school graduation. I know I reference Gilmore Girls a lot, but these words were too perfect here in the early morning hours of my college graduation day. So, to my fellow graduates: congratulations! There were certainly moments for many of us when we thought we would never live to see this day, but here we are nonetheless. And I am sorry to say that we have. There are still things I wish I had time to do at King's. There are people I was only starting to get to know that I would like to continue to get to know. There are dear friends who I will miss. There are professors who have guided and encouraged me academically and personally, and who have been sympathetic and understanding when I needed it most. I know that graduation ought to be exciting, but in reality it is mostly just making me sad. I would rather skip it all together. I know that's just my hatred of goodbyes talking though and I would regret it if I didn't go. So, this afternoon I shall wear an unflattering gown and a funny hat and try to focus on the happy accomplishment part and not the sad ending part of graduation.
This is Skeezix. She is one of my parents' cats. Technically, she is my brother's (which explains the name: he was 8 when he named her) and the other cat is mine (Za Za, I was 11 and had just read a book in which there were 26 kids, each with a name starting with a different letter of the alphabet and the last one was named Zsa Zsa, but being 11, I thought it was pronounced Za Za...), but in reality they are my parents' cats. They are the ones who feed them and clean up after them and now that neither my brother nor I lives at home for most of the year they really are just my parents'. Anyway, I miss the kitties when I'm at school. Although, I have to say that I never miss having fur on all of my clothing all the time.
Skeezix is great. Whenever I am feeling sick or sad she somehow knows and will come cuddle with me at night. Since finishing school I've definitely been sick and I've had my moments of sadness, so I've deeply appreciated having a warm kitty to cuddle up with while I sleep.
Okay, so this isn't an Easter Lily. But I actually don't like Easter Lilies that much, so here is a white lily. Technically any white lily is a symbol of the resurrection, so I think I'm still good.
I hope everyone had a lovely day. I'm still battling my post-exam illness (which has turned into a really awful cough, making speaking difficult) and I had to work tonight, but at least the sun was out and it was a beautiful day.
Aftermath
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When the summer fields are mown,
When the birds are fledged and flown,
And the dry leaves strew the path;
With the falling of the snow,
With the cawing of the crow,
Once again the fields we mow
And gather in the aftermath.
Not the sweet, new grass with flowers
Is this harvesting of ours;
Not the upland clover bloom;
But the rowan mixed with weeds,
Tangled tufts from marsh and meads,
Where the poppy drops its seeds
In the silence and the gloom.
Welcome to the aftermath of exams. I have been walloped by my annual end-of-the-school-year sickness. It happens every year; I run on adrenalin mixed with stress and add in a dash of sleeplessness for about a month and so as soon as exams are over and I relax for a second my body succumbs to some illness or another. Last year it was the flu, this year it seems to be a deadly cold. Of course, I also have to work all weekend/most of next week, I need to move out of the apartment on Tuesday, I have an interview to go to on Thursday and grad is in a week. So, in short, a rather inconvenient week to be sick. As long as I have meds in my system I can do a convincing impression of someone who is not dying. It's a tricky balance for me though. If you know me, you know that my stomach and I have a bit of a testy relationship. Well, one of the things that does not generally go well is medication of any kind. I seem to have found a balance that works. At least, it has worked for one day. We will see how long I can make it last.
We read this poem in the second half of intro English in my first year of university. That was the class that made me fall in love with poetry. Every time I hear the word "aftermath" I think of this poem now. It is so beautiful.
I am officially finished my undergrad degree.
It's weird. I'm so excited to be done. And I'm proud that I made it through. And I'm just tired because I've been pushing so hard for the last month or so. But the reality is starting to hit me now. Sitting in my room at my parents' house typing this I am beginning to realize just how final this is. Yes, there is still grad, but not everyone goes to grad. I have friends that I likely will never see again. I feel like this last year at school I finally found a community that I really loved. And having that ripped away is a bit painful.
There I go again, turning something that should just be plain old exciting into something deeply melancholy. Not one of my more attractive qualities.
This is the sunset from a couple of days ago. Shot through my window at an exceptional distance, hence the haziness. But I really love the colours. It was almost as if the sky was on fire. It seemed appropriate for this moment in my life. Both beautiful and a little bit scary.
I hate finals.
I realize that no one really loves finals. I have yet to hear, in all my years of schooling, someone say "Yay finals! This is my favourite time of the year!" or anything of a similar ilk. However, I really hate finals. I would rather write a paper. And if I have to write an exam then I would rather it be a take home than an in class. Exams just stress me out way more than papers. I think part of it has to do with the fact that studying isn't a finite task. I never really feel like I am done studying. It is more that I just run out of time and have to go write the exam. Papers I can feel like I am done. Studying just goes on and on and on...
I hate studying. And I am not good at it on the best of days. Today, however, it is exceptionally bad. See, I have one final exam left in my undergraduate career. One. It's tomorrow afternoon. By three o'clock Thursday afternoon I will be free. This alone would be enough to make studying a difficult task. To top it off though it is in a class that I just don't care about at all. It was a topic I wasn't particularly interested in to begin with, we had a horrible prof, and overall I feel like I learned very little. My notes are pathetic. And not in the this-prof-is-so-deep-I-don't-know-what-to-write way, but in the we-actually-didn't-discuss-this-in-any-sort-of-detail way. It's awful. Consequently I have very little motivation to study.
I'll still be panicking tomorrow though. Darn perfectionism.
