Graduation

So, the big day finally came! I went with Mutti and Martin to St Albans, where we met up with my Vati. We then got onto one of the uni shuttle buses to go to the Arena. Once there I picked up my tickets and my graduation garb, and then felt like a scholar for the first and last time in my life. I spent a lot of time sweeping around outside, saying that I was a ghoul. It was at this point that I was reunited with Jo! We spotted each other and ran over and hugged, it was all very romantic. We caught up and laughed a lot and it was so nice to see her!

Then, of course, was the obligatory photo session (I also got a professional portrait done but I won't receive that for a while):

We holed up in Costa for a while as it was still around three hours before the ceremony - here I got a white hot chocolate with cherry sauce and it was divine. The walk down to the cathedral was lovely; St Albans is such a pretty town.

That photo is, of course, the cathedral. My crap iPhone photo doesn't do it justice, it's huge and absolutely stunning. Outside, Jo found me again and we were soon joined by Molly - many fond memories of second year ensued. We had a laugh together as we froze to death waiting for the doors to open. I'm gutted that I couldn't get photos of the inside of the cathedral - I didn't take my phone in with me, which I now regret. The ceilings are insanely high, the place is absolutely massive and it's so beautiful. I got this photo from Visit St Albans to give you a bit of an idea of how amazing it is:

This was the point that my nerves kicked in a little bit, although I was pretty calm for the whole thing. It took bloody ages to get everyone into the place, there were so many of us. Luckily the students all got sat down pretty quickly because we had allocated seats (we were called up to the stage in alphabetical order). The ceremony started with the academics coming in and sitting on the stage. Our vice chancellor stood up and welcomed everyone, before awarding an honorary doctorate to a guy who basically told his life story - seriously, he talked forever. The students all started sniggering because we were all thinking a combination of 'he doesn't even go here!' and 'remember when this is our graduation'.

Finally, the names began to be read out, and people started going up to receive their degrees. Spoiler alert: You don't actually get your real degree on the stage - you get a fake one and swap it for the real one at the back of the room. I was shocked and appalled. There was also a piece of paper on all the students' seats telling us where to walk and what to do when we went up, it was all very efficient. There's not an awful lot I can say about people going up onto the stage when their names are called, apart from the fact I saw a lot of gorgeous shoes.

My turn came eventually (curse my surname being in the latter half of the alphabet!), and I had to walk across the stage and shake hands with the vice chancellor, who congratulated me. I then took the fake degree from a woman on the stage, walked down the steps without falling over, and down the (extremely long) centre aisle, past everyone's friends and family. I then, finally, got given my real degree. It was a really surreal moment - all that money, everything I'd worked for, three years of my life, was all summed up in this one certificate that I now held in my hands. It was an amazing feeling, and the first time I've felt properly proud of my degree and of myself.

After everyone had collected their certificates, we were congratulated yet again by our vice chancellor, and then one of the students made a lovely speech about how well we'd all done; everyone was smiling by the time she finished, and she got a huge round of applause that went on for ages. She couldn't have summed up student life and the trials and tribulations of getting a degree better. Finally, mercifully (because my back was killing me from the ridiculously uncomfortable seats), we were dismissed back out into the freezing night.

I had a really nice time at my graduation and am so grateful to Mutti, Martin and Vati for coming to it. It hasn't really sunk in that I have my degree (even though I bought a nice frame for it today).



P.S. I found Jackson like this yesterday, peeping out of his house like a small furry spy:

Job Hunting is a Soul Crusher

I'm still trying to find a job. It's difficult - there isn't much going at the moment, it's still a really crap economic climate so many places are hiring as little staff as possible, and you can only get so many rejections before you start to feel pretty disheartened. I have applied for everything I can find that I will be able to do, and stressed to every place that I can work any time, any days, as well as taking on extra shifts if needed. I couldn't be more flexible if I tried - I'm like an hours contortionist. I have all the time in the world. And yet here I am, 23 days after leaving Spain, still jobless. Some of the jobs I applied for, I was basically told I'm overqualified, which baffles me. Some ignored me completely. Some didn't let me even finish the online application process because the automated testing system decided I wasn't good enough. I think that one stung the most, being rejected by a computer before even getting a chance to correspond with a human.

I have had a few interviews, though, which is a positive point. I've not heard back from them yet; I'm hoping for the best and expecting the worst. I have another interview lined up next week, and I've been applying for more jobs tonight. It's really difficult to keep my chin up when it appears that there are no full time positions that I will be able to get - hell, I can't even get a part time or temporary position at the moment. It's hard not to blame myself; I know that blaming myself is irrational, and that there are lots of different reasons as to why a company won't employ me, but it's hard to suppress the irrational thoughts when you have way too much time to think.

It's not even as if I just want a job in order to have money to waste. I want a job so that I can become financially stable and independent. So I can pay off my overdraft and student loans. So that I can afford to pay my phone bill every month. So that I can finally learn to drive. So that I can experience more, travel more, have something resembling a social life. So that I don't lie awake all night, every night, worrying about money. So that I can properly move out of my mum's house and have my own place, in a town where there are more opportunities. I just want to be an adult, properly, and make money from my own hard work.

This isn't a particularly organised or articulate rant, I just needed to write about it before I go around the twist from being so frustrated and crippled with self-doubt.