Few days ago marked the end of four years of work. Which is apparently celebrated by dressing up like a bunch of cultists, listening to a long list of names, shaking hands with important people and paying £60 for free champagne! Go figure.
Wearing academic robes made me feel uncomfortably like an overgrown bat. Substantial +int aside, the hem repeatedly caught the heel of my shoe, filling my head with horrible visions of flying across the stage and destroying a VIP's ribcage on impact. After flapping on over to the Royal Albert Hall, it was quite a struggle to get anywhere, since the way was blocked by what appeared to be half the population of China. We eventually squeezed through and sat down in the hall, which was buzzing with excited conversations and camera flashes.
A hush fell across the auditorium as a man with a massive, sparkling silver and gilt mace (seriously, what were the stats on that thing?!) headed a procession of various important members of the college, most of whom were unknown to me. After some speeches, row by row we were led to the stage to have our names called out, walk across the stage, shake hands and head back to our seats.
My visions of horror did not come to pass, and I am proud to say I managed to avoid bashing my face in on the floor in front of a whole crowd. It did, however, turn out I was insufficiently broad in shoulder to support the robes, so I managed to graduate with my robes halfway down my side. Messy? I prefer 'interestingly windswept'...
But overall, great success! Congratulations to the class of 2012!
No comments:
Post a Comment