I know a lot of things.
Seriously. Like, a lot of things. I know how to make lasagna without a recipe, how to tile a bathroom floor and how to be in a tactical aircraft landing without puking. My knowledge is pretty diverse, to be honest.
Recently, however, I found out that there was something about which I was absolutely ignorant: I had no idea how to graduate from college.
Don’t get me wrong . . . I understand the cap-gown-walk-handshake-smile procedure. That part is not difficult. Neither was showing my ID at the student store to pick up my cap and gown, which I managed to time during book buyback, and not standing in that line from hell gave me an extra sense of glee.
The cards that the school mailed gave a pretty detailed set of instructions, which made things much easier. Logistically, things were very easy to navigate. Emotionally, however, well, that is a different story. A good friend of mine looked at the recyclable, gorgeous blue tent and hat set that I was to wear, and asked what I was going to do with my mortar board. My super educated and classy response was something along the lines of “what the hell is that?”
To make a long story slightly shorter, I learned the following things about graduating community college:
- Figure out where you are supposed to line up before you do anything else. How do I know this? Because at the last second, I looked like a really confused maniac trying to find my spot.
- Wear comfortable shoes. I know many of us may be tempted to wear super cute heels. Don’t do that. I promise. The accordion-style walk to and from the auditorium and across the stage can be full of obstacles designed to take you down. This is your day! Don’t eat it while reaching for the fake diploma. Remember, they just read your name and major, so everyone there has the opportunity to YouTube your demise.
- Take pictures! You may feel silly at the time, but you’ll want them later and so will your family.
- Try to sneak in a Red Bull. Or two. Because that ceremony not only lasts approximately forever, indoor venues get ridiculously hot, particularly when you’re wearing the recyclable tent and sitting shoulder to shoulder with some sweaty stranger.
Number five is possibly the most important tip of all:
5. Do not comment in a loud and amazed manner that all of the professors are dressed like they work at Hogwarts.
So, all you graduating spouses out there, CONGRATULATIONS! You earned it, now go rock your recyclable gown and mortar board!