Commencement

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Graduation season is upon us. 2 weeks from today, my husband will be hooded, which, every time I say it totally makes me want to say "knighted" instead because they're like totally the same thing. Only one involves a sword and the other involves an old dude putting a piece of colored fabric over your neck. But really, they're practically one and the same.

But graduation season would not be complete without the telling of one of my more embarrassing life moments. And also? Until I publish this post, I have 666 blog posts. And I generally don't like to associate my blog with Satan. You know, unless we're talking about Slappy's mom. BURN.

Back in May, 2005 I was preparing to graduate from college. I had broken my right foot in 3 places in March and by May it was determined that the boot was totally ineffective and a cast was necessary (side note: I was still in a cast in January of 2006. It was great.). So I got to walk at my graduation with a bright blue fiberglass cast. Which also smelled really great, in case you wondered.

It just so happens that it is WARM in California in mid-May and of course, at my college, we graduate in heavy BLACK robes. Outside. And of course all the guest seating is shaded by majestic bendy trees but not one single square inch of the graduate seating area has a hint of shade. And since the graduation took place in an amphitheater, you can also cancel any wind to cool things down.

Basically what I'm getting at is that it was hotter than the hinges of hell.

So, knowing that I was going to be wearing a black bathrobe and a heavy hot cast in the sun, I went out and bought myself a small battery operated fan to keep cool with. It was a little noisy, so I only turned it on when people clapped or there was significant noise. But that was enough to keep me cool enough to maintain consciousness throughout the ceremony.

(Side note #300: I have no memory at all of who our graduation speaker was. Which is entirely because it was absolutely no one important, even though Barack Obama went to my college. Dude, someone dropped the commencement speaker ball there.)

Anyways, I left the fan on continuously as each row got up to walk across the stage because noise was not a factor and it was taking a lifetime. So when my row stood up, I still had the fan running. As I bent down to put it under the seat, I heard a terrible noise and felt a tug.

The fan was stuck in my hair.

A huge chunk of the front of my hair was wrapped around the spinning mechanism. Like, a big enough chunk of hair that when I let go of the fan, it just hung in front of my face in all its hot pink glory.

I panicked. I knew that my mother would never forgive me if I walked across the stage and had my picture taken with the Dean with a hot pink fan stuck in my hair, so I did the only thing I could do.

I ripped all the hair out.

So much hair I couldn't rip it all in one fell swoop, it took two, maybe three separate jerks to rip it all out.

Then I threw the fan down and ran hobbled to catch up to graduate.

I had genuinely believed that no one had really noticed what had happened since, even though it felt like a lifetime, the entire episode lasted all of 30 seconds. That was until one of my friends came up to me after graduation and told me that her mom wanted to remind me next time to pull my hair back if I was going to fan my neck. And that I had left my fan, and half my head of hair in the amphitheater when we walked out.

I never went back to get the fan. Instead, I combed my hair over my new bald spot and drank a lot. Because that's what graduations are really all about- the fact that no matter how educated you get, you'll still always have the ability to be a dumbass.

6 comments:

Daisy Duke said...

Niiiiiice.

I've been hooded twice. (Wink....just kidding that sounds horrible. HORRIBLE. But I have. Twice.)

And also, at my Tulane graduation we had to line up & organize in the bowels of the Superdome and I was DYING of heat as was everyone else so we unzipped our robes & kind of let them drape over our shoulders. Which was cool for all my girlfriends in their sundresses but I was wearing an adorable *strapless* silk number from Perlis (preppy chic!) and somehow a zillion photos of me were snapped in which I look like I'm wearing my graduation hat and nothing else. I was dubbed "Graduation Bunny" and didn't live it down for a long, long time.

Lanny said...

LMAO! That's why I didn't go to my undergrad or grad school graduations. I made enough of a fool of myself at Army's graduation.

Anonymous said...

Dumbass

Slappy

Overflowing Brain said...

Asshole.


Nagopotamus

Sue G said...

You two seem perfect for each other! Just the right amount of love, respect, attitude and name-calling.

(I have been married almost 40 years and still introduce my husband as "my first husband." Just a thought.)

Cloudy said...

You just made me guffaw.