MONOCLED BE-FEZZED RABID MUPPETS
I graduated.
I was the first across the stage, in my hilarious robes. The Vice-Chancellor has three stock things that he says to graduates: 'What was your thesis on?' 'Have you your family here? They must be very proud' and 'Oh dear, do watch yourself on the steps', which is reserved for those who look wobbly in their heels. There were six of us graduating from History, the staff were crowing, Sociology were getting an inferiority complex and I think every photographer in the vicinity took a picture of us, although J kept having to go retrieve the son and heir, so mostly there are photos of 'Five History Doctorates And One Retreating Back'. We were eye-catching. When my dad gets the pictures up, I shall post proof of the hilarious robes. Gerry is terrified by them.
It was a lovely graduation though, AWOL honourary graduand and all. A small child made a break for the stage at the start and Dr Fell threatened to graduate him too, several people found the loose carpet, the VC fluffed the title of the Sociology school (there is a reason everyone just says 'Sociology' rather than try to reel off 'School of Sociology, Social Policy and Social Work'), at least two members of staff visibly lost the will to live at the third mention of the Entrepreneurship Prize, and I didn't care because wheeee, doctoral graduation.
When the wind caught the champagne tent though, that was nearly a disaster.
We have decided that the next ambition in life is to be as nonchalant in our doctoral robes as Marie was, sauntering about in her full UCD regalia with her hands in her pockets.
I was the first across the stage, in my hilarious robes. The Vice-Chancellor has three stock things that he says to graduates: 'What was your thesis on?' 'Have you your family here? They must be very proud' and 'Oh dear, do watch yourself on the steps', which is reserved for those who look wobbly in their heels. There were six of us graduating from History, the staff were crowing, Sociology were getting an inferiority complex and I think every photographer in the vicinity took a picture of us, although J kept having to go retrieve the son and heir, so mostly there are photos of 'Five History Doctorates And One Retreating Back'. We were eye-catching. When my dad gets the pictures up, I shall post proof of the hilarious robes. Gerry is terrified by them.
It was a lovely graduation though, AWOL honourary graduand and all. A small child made a break for the stage at the start and Dr Fell threatened to graduate him too, several people found the loose carpet, the VC fluffed the title of the Sociology school (there is a reason everyone just says 'Sociology' rather than try to reel off 'School of Sociology, Social Policy and Social Work'), at least two members of staff visibly lost the will to live at the third mention of the Entrepreneurship Prize, and I didn't care because wheeee, doctoral graduation.
When the wind caught the champagne tent though, that was nearly a disaster.
We have decided that the next ambition in life is to be as nonchalant in our doctoral robes as Marie was, sauntering about in her full UCD regalia with her hands in her pockets.