Hooded

I picked up my academic regalia today, all of which is so chintzy that they warned us in writing and orally that the dye in the fabric bleeds when it's raining or humid out. For this we pay a $75 rental fee. Dude.

As the Barbri evidence lecturer told us, law school graduations aren't like other graduations. You still have an exam to take, and you still have to go to class every day (usually for more hours since first year). So it doesn't feel like much of a finish. But when I pulled out the cheap polyester black gown with the fake velvet trim, and the extremely unflattering mortarboard cap, and the inexplicably designed hood, I actually felt a little something. I slipped that red hood over my head and arranged it on my shoulders and thought, "Wow." I was kind of impressed myself, looking at the deep V of the front and the drape of the hood in the back.

So strange, the outfit, and even stranger, the feelings it elicits.

Also strange -- telling Scientist last night that I didn't think we were compatible, feeling like we were on the verge of breaking up, and then going out with him tonight in one of our most comfortable and easy outings to date. Could things be more unstable? I think not.

Tomorrow the Mom comes, and then the bigbro/J1/The Nephew, and then the Korean team on Thursday morning. And then I graduate from this place, something I have had no time to absorb or reflect upon. It's never been a happy time here, and the end comes as it began, unceremonious, uncertain and unsure. But it's over. The French King wrote to me a few days ago: "...seriously, a heartfelt congratulations. I don't know anyone who (other than me) had to psychologically gut out grad school like you did. Bravo."