The illustrious December commencement

Sooooo, Kate's undergrad career is finally coming to a close this Saturday. That's right, she's one of those people who just can't quite find the gumption to complete the full victory lap. Despite the stigma attached to December commencement, she's excited for it. Now I'm not here to judge (well yeah...actually that's what bloggin' is all about), but I can think of at least a few things that would be better than attending her commencement. Plus, Kate always be judgin', so I'm going to give her a taste of her own medicine. Well, now I feel bad because this is a milestone in her life. So how about I finish this whole thing off with some of her best memories of college as interpreted and depicted by yours truly. Enjoy.

When I think of spring commencement at IU, a few sights and sounds come to mind--flowers blooming, birds chirping, temperatures rising, and the indescribable absence of Ugg boots. So what about December commencement? Does it carry the same mystique and charm? Far from it. Let's see here...what comes to mind. Answer: pretty much the polar opposite. Picture a beautiful pastoral landscape in the spring...just teaming with life. Can you envision that? Now think about that same image, but think about what it would look like as a negative to a photograph. Creepy, right? The sky is gray, the clouds are even darker. Everything carries the same shape and form, but something is wrong--very wrong. Well, that's what winter in Btown is like. Gray and grayer.

So what makes this setting even worse? Answer: Sitting anonymously in a sparse crowd of winter graduates while a second rate speaker attempts to pigeon-hole your future. Now, if I remember correctly, some NPR personality served as the speaker for my commencement ceremony. (However, I can't verify that information because I, myself, did not attend my own SPRING commencement.) Thus, I find reason to believe that this winter's speaker will be none other than a radio personality from North Central High School's radio station. Sure, the speaker may not yet have attended or, for that matter, graduated from university, but surely his/her tenure at the secondary-school radio station will prove a suitable match to the future ambitions of the class of 2008. Perhaps, the graduates will have the great privilege of getting some knowledge dropped on them. Whoever it may be, I'm on pins and needles with anxious anticipation.

Hmmm, this brings me to the point...what would I rather be doing? Given the weather, it would have to be something indoors. Considering the alternative (i.e., attending the commencement ceremony), making sludge angels on the black goop covered floors of Kilroy's doesn't sound half bad. Actually if the temps do climb into the 50's on Friday, joining the children-of-the-hills in some PCB-infested moss-slidin' down Cascades Creek may become a distinct possibility...but alas, the forecasted temperature drop for Saturday may thwart my plans. Whatever alternative I choose, it looks like it's going to be a game time decision. Then again, actually attending commencement requires that I set foot in Assembly Hall for the very first time. I suppose there is some nostalgic value in that decision. Okay fine. I'll go.

I'll leave you with Kate's top ten memories of college as interpreted by me.

1. Realizing that her digestive system works much more effectively sans dairy.
2. Coming to terms with the fact that trapped gas is her burden to carry.
3. Finally arriving at one of life's most poignant questions: Which do I like better--cookies, cake or ice cream?
4. The moment she understood alcohol's effect on her heart burn.
5. Coming to the realization that "[she] breaks shit."
6. Every time she stopped at a window posting of Human Society adoptable animals.
7. Walking by herself at night through the alley-way between College and Walnut on 6th St.
8. Not going to Chapter...ever...during the first two-thirds of her Senior "year-and-a-half".
9. Jiffy Treat and Chocolate Mousse...'nuff said.
10. Interpretive dancing to music.

Congratulations, Kate!

So this is the blogosphere...

After spending far too much time sifting through other people's blogs, I've decided to toss my hat into the ring of bloggingdom. I know what you're thinking: "Great. Just what the internet(s) need(s), more subjective banter to clog up the infinite bottleneck that is the Google search." So how will mine be any different? It won't be. Same basic stuff, just a different blogger. Moreover, like others, I will focus on what intrigues me and maybe...just maybe...it might peak the curiosity of the select few who stumble upon my blog. Nonetheless, before I begin, there are a couple of things I need to clarify for my readers. Most notably, my use of the second person pronoun "you" may be a bit confusing at first. No, I'm not speaking directly to "you"...rather, since it's my blog, I reserve the right to use my own variety of the majestic plural. However, in place of the royal "we", I shall speak unto the highest reaches of the world wide web(s) when I refer to "you". Think of it as if I am speaking to the everyman of cyberspace...just not specifically you. Additionally, one might notice my lack of consensus regarding how many internets actually exist. Is there just one internet? Maybe. More than one? Probably. Who am I to decide. Afterall, if there's just one internet in the universe, wouldn't that just be a big waste of space? Why have one internet, when you can have two for twice the price? All Contact references aside, hence forth, the parenthetical presence around the "s" following internet, world wide web, and interweb will represent my search for truth.

Moving right along. In the words of the politically correct version of a Black Eyed Peas' aural delight, "let's get it started...hah...let's get started in here...yeah." I'm not sure if "hah" and "yeah" fall within the original lyrical structure (or if they even appeared in the original recording), and I'm sure Kate will call me out with regards to my lyrical accuracy as she so often does. Apparently, according to her, I don't know the lyrics to any song...or at least I don't remember them in a way consistent with the original musicians' intent. Instead, the moth-filled-long-term-memory-vaults of my brain tend to recall the musical lexicon in a more self-serving fashion...as such, I can make any song relate to any emotion or moment in time...it's a gift really. It's kind of like the Simpson's episode where Homer recalls a prior evening's dinner party. In his mind, he spoke eloquently and acted distinguished, but in reality, he got shit-canned and stared at Maude Flanders' tah-tahs. On second thought, maybe that wasn't the most appropriate analogy. You get the idea though. Back to the topic of memory...I know the jury is still out on science, but I believe some Cognitive Psychologists found that the more you access a memory, the more it strays from the actual events (yeah, I'm pretty sure I poached that study off a podcast of RadioLab). So moral of the story, maybe I should just stop remembering things quite so often. I'll start now...I mean, it is winter break after all. Goodbye toothbrush.