Graduation Day: Stupid Hats, Free Champagne and Floella Benjamin

I am now officially Aimee Wellington BA. I've graduated from one of the best universities in the country and have an excessive amount of photos of me in a stupid hat to prove it. It hasn't been easy. Over the past three years I've dealt with grimy student housing, cried at my dissertation supervisor on at least three occasions, threatened to drop out, threatened to never come home, overcome the torture that is first year Approaches to Criticism, and have faced a world of people who wear Jack Wills and say things like "ciao ciao darlings" on a daily basis. On the flip side I've also befriended some fellow loons, learned some excellent drinking games, had some of the best and most ridiculous memories of my life so far, and survived freshers week three years in a row. But where did the time go?

On Tuesday afternoon my mother, father, brother and I packed into the car to head down to Exeter. Of course Rob got shotgun because he's the golden child. My mother claimed it was because he's significantly taller than me, but I'm not convinced. We stayed in a hotel overnight. Graduation was starting at 9am on Wednesday and my butt had to be in my seat at 8:30am so alarm clocks were set (with heavy hearts) for 5:45am. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad, but a certain someone (I won't name names) snored all night long so loudly that even with my sound-proof earphones in and iphone turned up to full volume, the hideous snorting noises kept me up most of the night.

So Wednesday morning I was back on campus, being pinned into my robes (I will never understand why the robes and the hood come separately when it would save a lot of time and safety-pin related injuries if they were attached) and trying to keep my hat on properly. It felt surreal. Surely it wasn't time to graduate and leave Exeter already? It felt like I'd only just started university and here I was about to finish. But, on the grand scale of things it could have been worse. Because the people graduating from masters courses had hats even more ridiculous than mine.

The ceremony itself was fantastic. That was mostly down to the fact that the chancellor of the university is Floella Benjamin, ex-children's TV star and all round just an entirely amazing and highly flamboyant lady. Plus, the woman is sixty five and clearly has not aged a day since her days singing nursery rhymes on the BBC back in the 70s.

Whereas in a lot of graduation ceremonies, graduands are called up in groups of three of four, shake hands with the chancellor and scurry back off stage, in Exeter we get called up one by one, get embraced by Floella who then looks lovingly into each students' eyes and gives some words of wisdom. Rumour has it she whispers something different to every person, but I can't see how that can possibly be true. Either way, when it was my turn to go up on stage I all but threw myself into Floella's arms. She is simply a legend. And her hugs are amazing.

When the ceremony was over and everyone had managed to walk across the stage and hug Floella without falling, the brass band started up and we got clapped out of the Great Hall, which was unexpected. Then I met up with my parents and Rob. My dad was actually a little teary-eyed and, wonder of wonders, to the surprise of all, my mother shooed Rob out of the way so she could get a picture of me. If I'd known all I needed was a BA to knock him off the golden child pedestal, I wouldn't have bothered with my gap year before uni. 

Photos were followed by an abundance of free champagne and cupcakes at the reception. Every time a glass started to look empty someone would appear to top it up, which my mother highly appreciated.

It was at this point that my brother opened the envelope I'd been presented with in the ceremony.
"This is empty." He said.
It's really annoying, but I missed an exam in January and have to take it in August so I can't get my hands on my actual degree until then. Still, it seems a bit random that they'd just give me the empty envelope.

Then, when we'd consumed more than enough champagne, we took a stroll around campus to take even more photos. At some point my mother got hold of the camera and seemed to genuinely believe she was a professional photographer. 
"Ok, tip your head at an angle slightly."
"Oooh, go and lean up against that wall. No, the other way."
"Go and stand behind that tree and kind of peak around from behind it."
"Now lay across that boulder."
I was, during this whole performance, weighed down by the weight of my robes and trudging around in the heat of the sunshine in a black cloak.

But once several hundred photos had been taken in various places with my head tipped at various angles, we headed to Chaucer's, my absolute favourite restaurant in Exeter where I ate so much cheesy chicken with bacon I thought I was going to explode out of my graduation dress. They had a deal on. Buy two classes of wine and get the rest of the bottle free. So my mother and brother got a bottle of wine...each. It made for an interesting mealtime. It was 2pm.

On the way back to the car Rob suddenly stopped in front of the Body Shop.
"Do they sell £1 candles here?" He asked and wandered inside.
"...It's a cosmetics shop." I told him. "Wilkinsons is just around the corner."
"No, no. The moment has passed."
I still have no idea what that moment actually was.

Then, when it was time for my family to leave, they dropped me off at my student house and told me again how proud they were of me because I'm the first Wellington to get a degree. And from the University of Exeter of all places. My mother was particularly enthusiastic. In fact, she kind of squished my face...in a loving way.

"I've never told you this, but before you were born, I went to a physic. She told me not to have you because you'd bring me misery and regret. But look at you! You haven't!"
...Thanks?

And then they drove off into the sunset, returning fifteen minutes later because I'd left my dress for the graduation ball in the back of the car. They loved me slightly less then.

Since then I've spent the last two days trying to cram three years worth of rubbish into boxes and tomorrow I leave behind student life for good. It's gone so quickly. Too quickly. I'm not ready to leave! That said, I'm bored of living off microwavable rice so maybe it's for the best.