(no subject)
Well, I had my graduation ceremony on Monday.
It was nice, actually. I've never really liked educationally related ceremonies in the past, I suppose me, Joe, Ricky and Mike have always taken them in our stride, but this was in its own way different and all the more poignant.
It was quite funny to wear a cap and gown. Walking through Cardiff with it on, I can't deny I felt stupid, but also a certain sense of actual pride. I always took High School; GCSE's and A-Levels and so forth, with a proverbial pinch of salt. I wouldn't say I was always confident I'd pass them all, but something inside of me always told me I'd somehow get through them. Uni was different though. It isn't a case of getting the right answers of writing the right essay in the last year of Uni. The dissertation was all about trying to make some sort of a sustainable theory in your chosen field. As I said in the previous entries, when you leave University, you don't just pass. It's almost like you leave University with the intention of it being a little bit more constructive a place having you been there.
So, when I found out I had a 2:1, and that I'd written a high marking dissertation, I was more than just relieved, I was truly thankful that I hadn't let down anybody. Myself, my parent and grandparents, and (perhaps it's the emerging adult in me) even old teachers and mentors. Graduating was never really about me, it was about giving back some of the gratitude that had been given to me in the past. I wouldn't say I did it for everyone else, but becoming a BA was really the physical achievement that my parents and family wanted to see. It was just a way of letting them know I was thankful and that I hadn't wasted my time.
Well, the ceremony was quite poignant actually. Very traditional, with us all in our caps and gowns, and the vice-Chancellor and respective Uni staff all in their gowns. I sat next to Lucy and Louisa (alphabetically by surname) and after the opening speech by the vice-Chancellor, we went up to shake hands and, by tradition, be officially received into the guild of graduates at Cardiff. It doesn't mean anything practical, but it was then that I suddenly realised I had actually succeeded, and all the worry and tension had not come to fruition. After 'doffing' our caps, we went to sit back down. It was then that Lucy whispered that she wouldn't be going out for the graduation ceremony, and that she was off to Sweden in the next morning. I didn't realise what she meant, but when the Chancellor rose to leave and led the party out, I suddenly looked at her and understood: I would never see her again. I was never good friends with Lucy, we hung out a bit, we worked together a little bit, but it wasn't the gravity of the situation so much, it was just that when she said that, she was really speaking for the whole of the people who were leaving.
It was strange. I told her it was nice to have met her, to have known her, and after hugging she walked amongst the crowded bar area and, sure enough, was gone forever.
Now, like I said, it wasn't specifically Lucy that I was going to miss. But she really summed up what had been a long time fermenting in my head: that this really was the end. After she had walked off, I had my photos done and spoke to a few friends, went and got some dinner with John and my parents, and took my cap and gown back. I got a similar "have a nice life" from Charlotte at the city hall, and sure enough I'll never see her again either. It's not that I was good friends with these people, it's just that you take it so much for granted they're around when they suddenly leave you realise how much you'll miss the presence and the pieces they played in your life. Just seeing them around. Going for coffee, doing essays together, those little conversations when you happen to catch them on the way to lectures. I supposed I realised how much I enjoyed the casuality of friendship with nice people. Leaving Uni means, apart from old friends, new friends will have to be fought for all over again. It's all those awkward conversations, those getting to know situations, those fresh starts. I suppose I just realised I'll miss all those simple friendships. The good people like Tom and Sam, Lucy, Emma, Rachel, Nina etc. It's like a whole section of my experience has been amputated quickly and without warning. It's not painful or distressing, it's just become quiet again.
There are, however, some people staying around. Simon, John, Jay, Liz, Anna. I'll have to make more of an effort to go to Cardiff to see them, especially Liz and Jay. I feel like I've lost out on a lot looking back, but there seems to be second chances with more than a few people that I should really take.
I could go on for hours here, but I'm rambling already. The after-party was cool, the night was great. There was, well, a lot of frankness and sincerity that probably should have presented itself a lot sooner. The phrase "next year" keeps springing to my lips and then receding slowly back down my throat as I realise there isn't going to be one. No "next year we'll have to do this..." or "I'll see you next year". There just won't be a next time I guess...
So, I don't know what to feel really. I'm not sad. I have friends, and good ones. There are some people that don't come and go, and friendships that have lasted for decades. But Uni was always an outlet that I loved and now its gone it just feels a little sad. If there's one thing in life I'd say I had an issue with, it's goodbyes and fresh starts. It's silly, because I got over High School when I went to Uni, and I know that in three years time Uni will be a faded memory and a pleasant, nostalgic smile. But, when I'm saying goodbye to people and things it plays on my mind far more than I should. Right down to observing the last time I'll use a certain lift, or enter a certain lecture hall. Things that have no relevance still become vastly important for a period of time.
C'est la vie, I suppose, is now the phrase. It has happened the way it has happened, and nothing can be no more certain. I have enough good memories and new avenues from Uni to say it was worth every second, but it was a comfortable place I have now left and, although I look forward to the future, I think (cliche as it is to say) Uni will never truly leave me.
At least now a quivering and fading line can be drawn underneath Uni, and the next phase can begin. I had my fun and I made Uni what it was and I came out a more focused person than I did going in. I know that in a few months time, the scars will fade a little. And at least there will still be a lot of good people around. People like Liz and Simon, who I'm thankful that I'll still be able to talk to and spend time with.
Oh well.. I say. Like the end of a long relationship I'm left with a void that over time will be filled, only to be emptied again along the way. Life really is ups and downs, ups and downs. At least I can say the last three years have been an up, and after this small and subtle down, I'm sure I'll move on gracefully and onto better things. After all, the band and the music beckon in ways they never have before, and maybe I'll visit old Uni friends in backstage areas when they come watch us play! It's never as bad as it seems I guess, and it doesn't even seem bad, I'm just being wistful, replaying the regrets and the fond memories and letting them have the full emotional effect only hindsight can bestow to them.
At least, I can say, I did it. And I'd do it again if I could go back, without a doubt. As long as I can say that about my whole life, what else can I ask for?
Goodbye.
It was nice, actually. I've never really liked educationally related ceremonies in the past, I suppose me, Joe, Ricky and Mike have always taken them in our stride, but this was in its own way different and all the more poignant.
It was quite funny to wear a cap and gown. Walking through Cardiff with it on, I can't deny I felt stupid, but also a certain sense of actual pride. I always took High School; GCSE's and A-Levels and so forth, with a proverbial pinch of salt. I wouldn't say I was always confident I'd pass them all, but something inside of me always told me I'd somehow get through them. Uni was different though. It isn't a case of getting the right answers of writing the right essay in the last year of Uni. The dissertation was all about trying to make some sort of a sustainable theory in your chosen field. As I said in the previous entries, when you leave University, you don't just pass. It's almost like you leave University with the intention of it being a little bit more constructive a place having you been there.
So, when I found out I had a 2:1, and that I'd written a high marking dissertation, I was more than just relieved, I was truly thankful that I hadn't let down anybody. Myself, my parent and grandparents, and (perhaps it's the emerging adult in me) even old teachers and mentors. Graduating was never really about me, it was about giving back some of the gratitude that had been given to me in the past. I wouldn't say I did it for everyone else, but becoming a BA was really the physical achievement that my parents and family wanted to see. It was just a way of letting them know I was thankful and that I hadn't wasted my time.
Well, the ceremony was quite poignant actually. Very traditional, with us all in our caps and gowns, and the vice-Chancellor and respective Uni staff all in their gowns. I sat next to Lucy and Louisa (alphabetically by surname) and after the opening speech by the vice-Chancellor, we went up to shake hands and, by tradition, be officially received into the guild of graduates at Cardiff. It doesn't mean anything practical, but it was then that I suddenly realised I had actually succeeded, and all the worry and tension had not come to fruition. After 'doffing' our caps, we went to sit back down. It was then that Lucy whispered that she wouldn't be going out for the graduation ceremony, and that she was off to Sweden in the next morning. I didn't realise what she meant, but when the Chancellor rose to leave and led the party out, I suddenly looked at her and understood: I would never see her again. I was never good friends with Lucy, we hung out a bit, we worked together a little bit, but it wasn't the gravity of the situation so much, it was just that when she said that, she was really speaking for the whole of the people who were leaving.
It was strange. I told her it was nice to have met her, to have known her, and after hugging she walked amongst the crowded bar area and, sure enough, was gone forever.
Now, like I said, it wasn't specifically Lucy that I was going to miss. But she really summed up what had been a long time fermenting in my head: that this really was the end. After she had walked off, I had my photos done and spoke to a few friends, went and got some dinner with John and my parents, and took my cap and gown back. I got a similar "have a nice life" from Charlotte at the city hall, and sure enough I'll never see her again either. It's not that I was good friends with these people, it's just that you take it so much for granted they're around when they suddenly leave you realise how much you'll miss the presence and the pieces they played in your life. Just seeing them around. Going for coffee, doing essays together, those little conversations when you happen to catch them on the way to lectures. I supposed I realised how much I enjoyed the casuality of friendship with nice people. Leaving Uni means, apart from old friends, new friends will have to be fought for all over again. It's all those awkward conversations, those getting to know situations, those fresh starts. I suppose I just realised I'll miss all those simple friendships. The good people like Tom and Sam, Lucy, Emma, Rachel, Nina etc. It's like a whole section of my experience has been amputated quickly and without warning. It's not painful or distressing, it's just become quiet again.
There are, however, some people staying around. Simon, John, Jay, Liz, Anna. I'll have to make more of an effort to go to Cardiff to see them, especially Liz and Jay. I feel like I've lost out on a lot looking back, but there seems to be second chances with more than a few people that I should really take.
I could go on for hours here, but I'm rambling already. The after-party was cool, the night was great. There was, well, a lot of frankness and sincerity that probably should have presented itself a lot sooner. The phrase "next year" keeps springing to my lips and then receding slowly back down my throat as I realise there isn't going to be one. No "next year we'll have to do this..." or "I'll see you next year". There just won't be a next time I guess...
So, I don't know what to feel really. I'm not sad. I have friends, and good ones. There are some people that don't come and go, and friendships that have lasted for decades. But Uni was always an outlet that I loved and now its gone it just feels a little sad. If there's one thing in life I'd say I had an issue with, it's goodbyes and fresh starts. It's silly, because I got over High School when I went to Uni, and I know that in three years time Uni will be a faded memory and a pleasant, nostalgic smile. But, when I'm saying goodbye to people and things it plays on my mind far more than I should. Right down to observing the last time I'll use a certain lift, or enter a certain lecture hall. Things that have no relevance still become vastly important for a period of time.
C'est la vie, I suppose, is now the phrase. It has happened the way it has happened, and nothing can be no more certain. I have enough good memories and new avenues from Uni to say it was worth every second, but it was a comfortable place I have now left and, although I look forward to the future, I think (cliche as it is to say) Uni will never truly leave me.
At least now a quivering and fading line can be drawn underneath Uni, and the next phase can begin. I had my fun and I made Uni what it was and I came out a more focused person than I did going in. I know that in a few months time, the scars will fade a little. And at least there will still be a lot of good people around. People like Liz and Simon, who I'm thankful that I'll still be able to talk to and spend time with.
Oh well.. I say. Like the end of a long relationship I'm left with a void that over time will be filled, only to be emptied again along the way. Life really is ups and downs, ups and downs. At least I can say the last three years have been an up, and after this small and subtle down, I'm sure I'll move on gracefully and onto better things. After all, the band and the music beckon in ways they never have before, and maybe I'll visit old Uni friends in backstage areas when they come watch us play! It's never as bad as it seems I guess, and it doesn't even seem bad, I'm just being wistful, replaying the regrets and the fond memories and letting them have the full emotional effect only hindsight can bestow to them.
At least, I can say, I did it. And I'd do it again if I could go back, without a doubt. As long as I can say that about my whole life, what else can I ask for?
Goodbye.