Degree Number Two

So had excellent graduation number two: Parentals arrived on time; I didn’t fall over whilst going up to the podium although they did mispronounce my name; I got to see many coursemates and got to chat with them about how awful kid’s behaviour is and how they do no teaching; my tutor raved about how good I was to my Parentals… Like my course I actually enjoyed my day this time.

Wondrous lunch at London Street Brasserie (lobster chowder to start, a gorgeous main of venison, haggis and spinach with figs, with chocolate fondant for dessert and my first experience of calvados as a digestif) before coming back to Caversham Princess’s to Patrick and my blanket to send a overly merry text to MW#1 telling him that I find his manfur scary but inexplicably lovely and that he smells good (*slightly* embarrassing)…

A good day (apart from my texting, obviously)

2 Responses to Degree Number Two

  1. Bobby Convey says:

    Congrats on your graduation, and your belly-licious dins. Mmmmmmm. I remember quite enjoying my graduation, the only downside being the hideous photo that I have to remind myself of the day. They didn’t even give me a bluddy hat to wear. Boo.
    As to the text, well these things happen. *slightly* embarassing perhaps, but anything that makes the recipient smile (and I’ll be damned if it didn’t) isn’t worth regretting…

  2. monky says:

    Ta muchly Bobby-
    I also had the dreaded photo holding the plastic tube certificate (for the Grandparent) but at least I did get to wear ye olde mortarboard. I did however spend a fair proportion of the day wearing it the wrong way round (until my tutor pointed out).
    A couple of hours with Patrick under me beloved duvet pondering the state of the world has sobered me up; have now sent apologetic text. Dear me.
    It was really good (but somewhat sad) to hear that practically all my coursemates have terrible problems with class control; I am the only person doing supply at the moment. Although my income was non-existent for months and is currently patchy (I am lazy) and not guaranteed I am so glad I have been a stubborn motherfucker and been picky about where I apply for a contracted job.
    On the subject of lazy, it was amusing to hear my tutor tell my Parentals that he thought I was going to be a total slacker when I started the course but that I worked really hard and was an excellent student. Gah.
    Although working the maternity cover at my first placement school is going to be horribly stressful, I am glad that the behaviour is generally so good there. And they’ve got a withdrawal room for the naughty ‘uns and they use it merrily- that student who threatened me would probably find himself on the business end of a four day exclusion. Hee.