Note the gown, the cape, and the hat held in my hand. There's a degree there, too. In this photo is my mum, and she had a fine time with the whole thing, especially critiquing the clothes that people wore at graduation ceremony. The photo was taken by L, who likewise had a fine time discussing the fashion. I am also in this photo. The whole event meant nothing to me, even the fashion, but people I care about wanted it, and so I was there. I swear, I'm smiling in this photo, but the batteries on my camera were dying, and so we were never sure if it was working or not. Besides, I never take a good photo. The world is littered with bad photos of me. This is just another example of it.
The graduation ceremony was, thankfully, quite quick, with about sixty people. Afterward, people kept telling me that I looked good in the robes, and the hat, and to be honest, I think I might have missed my time period for the robes. They had a nice swish quality. The hat, though, was lame. Beyond lame. The photos of me in that hat are burned. They are burning right now. None of you will ever see them. Be thankful. Anyhow, during the ceremony, I sat next to the one other guy in the red doctorate robes, and he admitted, quietly, that he was a little drunk. "My friends got me a few drinks beforehand." Still, he was laid back company, and we had a few jokes, and talked to some linguistic graduates in the blue masters robes. Still, the two of us had to wait until the end, where our names were read with our thesis titles, and we went up, shook hands, took the degree, and sat down, just like all before us. I went first. The other guy followed. When we had sat, he opened his folder, looked at it, and then whispered, "I wasted four years of my life for this."
I, however, didn't need no ceremony for that epiphany. I knew that four years ago. Later, we all threw our hats into the air, like in American High School films.