So, yeah, it was technically my college graduation awhile ago.
Vanity pushed me to get a morning work-out in the gym, and much to my surprise I wrung out a bucket of sweat from my very flabby self. I tried to punish myself with abdominal exercises but didn't push myself too hard, lest I get all sorts of cramps later on.
But I totally destroyed my workout by glutting myself with a meal from Kenny Rogers for lunch. My mom was totally concerned that I'd faint by midday if I foolishly tried to nab a bite at McDonalds for lunch. I think I pretty much stuffed my face with carbs right there.
Before the program started, the harrassed marshals were trying to get some semblance of order in our seating arrangements for the venue. Fat chance. Everyone was either too busy adjusting their outfits, talking to other people, or fanning themselves in the intense heat. We were wondering why the Little Theater (airconditioned and all) was not made the venue; they cited reasons of size but then again, the Little Theater holds almost as much as the GAB Roofdeck.
The real reason, probably, was that they were trying to solicit funds from the guest speaker, a senator who happened to proclaim himself as the "Father of Education." Big frigging deal, I told myself. He was the same senator who used registered mail (of course, using tax money) to send out "vote for me!" notices to students like myself who would be voting in the coming local elections. Like hell. His graduation address became like a campaign speech, and I immensely enjoyed zoning out during the program, trying to gauge when my soul would leave my body in the intense heat or how many calories might have been burned in that huge sauna of a venue. The valedictory address by the summa cum laude (my former blockmate who shifted to Biology) was more interesting to listen to, actually. I distinctly remember that the graduating class was so disappointed in the guest's promises of helping better the facilities--what use would we have for that, as we were graduating already?
But then again, I might have enjoyed myself so much. Point one, I was the only one wearing a very unique hablon sablay (sash) awhile ago. And it was a sablay for a Master's degree holder, and here I was, a Bachelor's degree holder. Teehee. Point two, I was the only one wearing a burgundy and black lace dress in a sea of frothy ecru and white; not my fault that it was the only semi-formal thing in my closet and that I wasn't able to attend the orientation for the ceremonies. They should probably thank their lucky stars I didn't go commando in the heat. Point three, I so many hugs and kisses and handshakes from faculty AND staff awhile ago. Who would have thought that former professors, maintenance staff, administration clerks, and friends from other courses would greet me familiarly? Point four, I got the "cute" award for my very concisely-titled-but-hard-to-pronouce-high-fallutin' thesis.
But I digress in enjoying myself too much.
Oh yeah, we were reminded that we should make our institution proud, and that we should remain patriotic, and that we should be loyal alumni. This actually translates to: work your asses off to prove you're a graduate from UP, please don't leave the country for greener pastures, and please donate to the school. Intelligent people truly create great euphemisms.
Last little tidbit: I found out I never memorized the UP Naming Mahal (the school hymn.) My bad.
P.S. Picture dump later.