Graduation

I am now dressed and ready for graduation.

I remembered sunscreen this year . . . for the first time in seven years.

The dress, which I bought for blue hair affairs of state, shows entirely too much cleavage. So I had to augment it somewhat.

I'm unsure about what shoes to wear. Ballet flats? My new wedges? (I like to be tall . . . and am really tall in the wedges) My plastic sandals, as I will be crawling around on a football field?

I will take two hundred pictures of this event. My minions will take maybe twenty between the two of them. We will use 20 pictures, at the most, on the page. And really, I should just sit in the stands. Oh well . . .

But the stands are rowdy. And then there is the yelling and hooting for each and every graduate. It's their day, I know. But wouldn't they like to spend it at a nice restaurant, instead of the hot football field? Maybe it's just me.

I hate graduation.