frenchpony (frenchpony) wrote,
frenchpony
frenchpony

  • Music:

Drip. Drip. Drip.

We have had heavy rains here in Grad School Town. Not nearly as heavy as in New England, but heavy enough. And they've been going on for long enough that my building can't take it any more. My bedroom ceiling has developed a large water stain, two mold patches, and a leak. Which is dripping. It completely ruined my old beloved copy of Ballet Shoes, and I've had to order a replacement. Fortunately, my landlords are calling the roofer, like, yesterday, but still. . . no matter how conscientious the landlord, these things always take forever, especially when your ceiling is the one leaking.

In other news. . . I graduated on Sunday! Woo-hoooo! Go me!

Mom and Dad Pony came to spend the weekend, so we went out for dinner and looked around the town and had as much of a blast as we could in the intermittent pouring rain. Mom Pony knew exactly how to fluff out my hood so it looked nice.

The University is so ginormous that there were commencement ceremonies literally all weekend. One on Friday, two on Saturday, two on Sunday. I was in the very last one, at 2:00 on Sunday. So we had time for a nice leisurely Mother's Day brunch at the coffee shop across from my house, and then I got all dressed up at home. Cap, gown, tassel, hood, the works. We walked to the commencement arena. That's fun, to parade through the streets all kitted out. People slow down in cars to look at you, congratulate you from porches, because they know you're graduating, it was great.

At the arena, I went to sit in a clot of music people. Most of them were performance people getting MMs instead of MAs, so they had pink hoods instead of white. I much prefer my MA. There was no order, so all the candidates could sit wherever we liked. You filled out a little card with your name one it that you found on your seat, the marshals told you when to stand and where to go, and you handed them the card, and they said your name. Walk across the stage, trot trot trot. Since not all grades are in yet, they don't give out diplomas, just diploma covers, for show. They'll mail the diplomas to us later.

There was lots of pageantry and spectacle. The speeches were short and surprisingly good. And, though I didn't notice it, there was a Jumbotron, so the audience could get an up-close gander at the faces of the individual graduates. Dad Pony thought that bit was especially amusing. I followed Daw's advice and stowed a book in my long doofy sleeve, and boy, was that good advice! (Thank you, Daw!) There were just endless BAs, and I was glad to have something to read. My friend who sat next to me had initially laughed at my having a book. Halfway through the BAs, she started to read over my shoulder. And people with cell phones and cameras looked at the book and realized that they could use their sleeves to hold their devices. Everybody won.

So, I'm officially graduated, I pretty much am entitled to be Master Pony, am working on final thesis revisions, and my ceiling leaks. But the sun has come out at last, though God only knows how long it'll stay out.
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