Tuesday, May 8, 2012

bed is where the heart is

    Dear Harriet Walter,


    It is summer break!

    Saturday we had a lovely commencement ceremony. All the beautiful Ph.D's were in their robes and all the baby grads were in their less awesome robes and the choir were in their choir get-up and we were all dressed nicely and there was singing and speeches and bachelor-of-arts-ing and photographs. I suppose normal colleges don't have the assembly singing in their commencement ceremonies. How boring.

    Then there was everybody out on the lawn talking and being beautiful and drinking punch and eating strawberries and grapes and chocolate truffles. I ate just enough to be something, thanked a doctor for hiring me for a job working in the academic support center next year, grabbed a Sarah with a camera and cornered Dr. Mac and got a picture with him, fumbled my way out of the crush of people onto the lawn, stopped briefly to say goodbye to Professor Mine Enemy and shake his hand, and dashed dormward to pack.

    (I may tell you sometime about the most recent major change in the plans for my college's future. I might tell you about the conversation I had with PME on Thursday night after we found out about the change, when he was ecstatic and I was excited and happy and something surprising happened. I might tell you about all the drama of the past few weeks, or what the graduating seniors were like and how I'm going to miss them, I might tell you about the papers and the dances and the long walks and the money and the uncertainty and the fact that the college might not exist next year, but I do not have the energy.)

    Five hours later I was lost and bleating in an airport in Oregon. My Auntlet eventually found me, though, and whisked me home and took me to Best Friend's dark, empty house and then I was dropping my luggage on the floor and crawling into bed, and then I slept for 14 and a half hours (because the all-nighter I pulled Thursday through Friday had me awake 41 hours). I woke up to find that I had become 20 years old. Best Friend and her sister came home later that day, with their parents coming home in the evening, and we ate cake and watched Star Trek: TNG while I curled up all over Best Friend's sister and their dog. I'm staying with them for a week and then with other people for a week and then spending the summer with my Auntlet instead of my parents.

    (Oh, goodness, have I mentioned that they've found a new home for my dog since I can't take him and my parents can't really take him? That happened.)

    Now I am waiting for final grades and trying to find a job. All I want to do is sleep.

    Best Friend's Dad took her and her sister and me to see The Avengers tonight and afterwards demanded to know which guy in it we each thought was "the hottest." Best Friend's Dad has a Ph.D and a beard, he teaches college-level history and is married to a poet and cooks food.

    Oh, lands, I'm so tired in my bones.

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