Graduation

After three years of study, I now officially have a 2.1 in English Literature from the University of Warwick. It's hard to believe that this part of my life is over. I'm going to miss the structure of uni life, and my friends (thank goodness for the technology that makes it so easy to keep in touch), but I am excited to see what this next stage of my life holds. I've been in full-time education since I was about three years old, and I need a change. It was fun wearing the gown (though I really think they ought to have pockets- you can tell they were designed by men!), but I still have a bit of a headache from the mortarboard. I was so nervous about my walk across stage, and the carpet and the ramp was truly inspired (no newly-polished floor or steps to trip on). One of the special guests receiving honorary degrees was Guardian theatre critic Michael Billington (I wonder if he needs a personal assistant, who would of course accompany him to all of the shows that he attends?), who grew up in Leamington Spa (where I spent my second and third years), and he talked about how Warwickshire nurtured his love of theatre. He also talked about how the role of the 'objective' critic is more important than ever in the age of bloggers where everyone can have a say. Not sure if I completely agree with that- I don't think any writer is ever entirely agenda-less. It seems very unfair that the hotshots get fancy engraved scrolls while we mere mortals only get a piece of paper, even though we're the ones who actually had to study for it.

I wonder when it became acceptable for everyone (from neighbours who never usually have anything to do with me to waitresses) to ask about my degree classification. I find it terribly impertinent. Wouldn't a simple, "That's nice, well done" suffice?