Backwards Cap: Not Always Cool

Ladies, Gentlemen, and cats, I did it!

I graduated on Sunday.

It's kind of interesting, actually.  At my school, they hold the ceremony before final grades are in.  It makes me wonder how many people go through all the pomp and circumstance (and, on our case, Native Alaskan dancers and a truly horrible Alma Mater song) to find out that oops, never mind.  

But sometime in June I should receive a paper saying that yes, I completed the courses necessary to earn a bachelor's degree in English.

This will be a short post, because the first thing the real world decided to do was hit me with a horrendous, godawful cold, four days before I have to sing at a benefit concert.  But I wanted to tell you about my experience as a graduate who is really, really bad a time management.

"Oh, I don't need to be there until 2:45?  It's only a 20 minute drive from my house, if I leave at 2:00 I'll be golden," I thought to myself.

At 2:18 I found myself facing the sisyphean task of making it through the epically long line of cars, finding a parking spot, and making it into the arena before the processional started.  At 2:35 the line had finally advanced enough that I was able to pull into an empty parking lot several blocks away, grab the bag with my cap, gown, and tassel, and hotfoot it over the the arena.  I made it, barely.

Once into the lobby of the place, I hastily donned my gown and scurried, cap in hand, to where the College of Arts and Sciences was supposed to line up.  Though really, line was a strong term.  It was more an amorphous gathering of hot, sweaty 20-somethings, all of whom were trying their best not to get smudgy fingerprints on their namecards.

I put on my cap, exchanged pleasantries, and off we went.

My parents were late, but wound up arriving in time to see me receive the empty case that will eventually hold my degree.  I'd been futzing with my cap the entire ceremony, because no matter what it wouldn't stay on.  It was like a drunken toddler, leaning this way and that, doings its level best to no longer be on my head.  After I sat down I decided to take matters into my own hands, and removed the cap, once again, to try and get it into a more stable position.

Then I looked around.

For anyone who hasn't worn one, or hasn't in a long time, the part that actually fits onto  your head is specifically shaped.  The rounded part goes on your forehead, and the longer, pointed part goes on the back of your head.

It had been a while.  I was in a hurry.

I'd put the thing on backwards.

Slowly, I turned the cap around in my hands, trying to surreptitiously move the tassel so it would be on the correct side when I put it back on.  After I got the cap re-situated on my head, the guy sitting next to me leaned over and said "Don't worry, I didn't notice.  I don't think anyone else did either."  I really, really hope he was right.

The ceremony ended, and I was able to make my way out of the arena, into the bright May sunshine.  My parents greeted me and snapped pictures.  Friends hugged me.  I smiled, accepted their thanks, and made my way out into the world.

It's on correctly, but still wasn't the most stable thing.