I wrote some on Chapter 6, though nothing sizzling hot. The momentum will come (I hope). For some reason I was terribly depressed and anxious all last week. Probably overwhelmed by the impending graduation — ceremonial and real — and momentous life decisions to make, in addition to the workload of grading and finishing my diss.
Saturday morning, my sister arrived at my house with a bouquet. Isn’t it pretty? Still dread-filled, I nibbled lunch with my family near campus and then rushed into the auditorium for the walk-through. Hurriedly throwing on my regalia, I regretted fussing over my clothes (since no one was going to see them) and not fussing enough with my hair.
But all the students and their supporters were infectiously happy-nervous. Standing outside the theater waiting for the procession to begin, we Ph.D. grads (and near-grads) poked fun at our costume, especially the hood. (Click here to see one.) I pointed to a completely random tube of fabric that juts out of the bottom of the hood, and someone said, “It’s an intellectual condom!” … Okay, maybe you had to be there.
My dissertation title is so long that I had to saunter slowly across the stage to give my advisor time to read it. 🙂 Then he hooded me. What the heck is hooding, you ask? Or was I the only one not to know? I handed my hood (click here to see one) to my advisor, and turned to face the crowd as he placed one over my head from behind. Then a big hug and photo op with one side of the hood already sliding down my arm.
Back at home, I gave my mom a crocheted scarf for Mother’s Day. Click here for an action shot. Five different kinds of drapey yarn–Kyoto, Baccarat, and another line I can’t remember from Artfibers in SF, in addition to Lang Pearl and Malabrigo Worsted.
Whew! As my mom said, that’s the very last one, right, honey? If I ever decide to get another degree, say a J.D., somebody shoot me. Please.