Bachelor or bachelorette?

The entry may not make any sense. While I will endeavour to correct my typos as I go, I’m doubtful I can correct myself, for I have drunk more than is my usual limit, and I have turned into a blathering idiot. Remarkably, this is about the best way I have to deal with my in-laws which is available to me, apart from going away for the weekend, which would be incredibly rude and uncharacteristically unhostesslike of me, but which is otherwise totally socially acceptable, which seems rather strange. But then, when you consider north American culture, maybe it isn’t.

Anyway, I was up early this morning, as I tend to be of late, what with the hot flashes and all (at least I can blame my bad moods on these menopausal moments) and, after playing on the computer for a while, I made pancakes for us and our guests, had a hot bath (ah....) and dressed, then went with Hubby and Little Princess in two cars so that we could attend the reception after the morning’s convocation. You see, they’re breaking it up into two chunks now, B.A.’s in the morning and everyone else in the afternoon. I didn’t want to have to sit through two ceremonies, but I did want to greet the graduates from our own department, hence the reception.

It poured rain. Seriously. Little Princess picked up her cap, gown and hood and then we waited for Hubby to show up. He had gone to the tail end of the morning convocation and got to greet the graduates as they filed out. I didn’t get to see everyone I wanted to because the reception was held in a different venue from usual, much smaller and very crowded. Oh well.

We did get good seats for the afternoon convocation, the proud parents and grandparents, and everything went like clockwork, or whatever it’s supposed to go like. Little Princess got her degree without tripping and falling on the stage and embarrassing us, and when we came out of the sports complex the rain had stopped. Hurrah!

We took back her gown, came home, and started drinking. Oh, drinking and eating things, like cheese and crackers and some spanikopita I discovered in the freezer. Now there are pizzas in the oven, but I’m not hungry and I have used my drunkenness as an excuse to get away from the multitudes of people in my kitchen. Actually, it’s not a bad excuse. I should have thought of this years ago.

So, I am now the proud parent of a university graduate. No, seriously, I really am proud. She’s amazing. Apart from getting her degree “with distinction”, she also got two university prizes.

I smell something burning. I just hope the smoke detector doesn’t start screaming. Oh, and as an impetus to get out of the kitchen, Hubby knocked the pie plate that contained the rest of last night’s raspberry pie on the floor, and the sight of all that wasted pie almost made me cry.

I think this is as probably as good a time as ever to call it quits. You will, no doubt excuse me. Thank you, and good night.

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