A Graduate FAQ

Let me paint you a picture: it's my final day of my undergrad career. My sleep-deprived ass is in the school library, running purely on the caffeine pumping through my bloodstream and the adrenaline of powering through 1200 words in four hours. I wrote an exam this morning, I have one more tiny assignment to do this afternoon, and I've just (miracously, with thirty minutes to spare), finished my take home exam. I save the document, close the program, and open up the web browser to submit the exam.

The file is gone.

I open every folder (every. folder.). I search the entire PC. I reopen Word to check the “Recently Opened” tab. Nothing.

Naturally, I ambush the circulation desk in a frenzy, limbs flying as I explain to the blinking clerks why my life is currently exploding before my very eyes. After ten harrowing minutes, the tech guy was called, and it was then I learned that Firefox has a top secret “temporary download folder” that is only accessible through the browser itself. (Firefox, please.) The document was submitted, I finished my last assignment, and then proceeded to go home and pass out for a little while.

But that was five weeks ago, and now it’s over. I’m officially* a University Graduate™. And as with any graduation, I’ve already fallen into the routine of answering the same sequence of questions over and over (and over) again. So in the interest of efficiency (and saving my sanity), I have compiled some of these questions into one location for everyone to peruse at their convenience.

(*pending my actual convocation on June 13th.)

How does it feel to be done?

In all honesty, I don't think it's entirely sunk in yet that I'm done, and it probably won't until fall rolls around and I'm not stuck in a classroom somewhere. (Or when November hits and the government starts taking its money back by force.)

What are you graduating with?

My five years of torture have earned me a Bachelor of Arts in English (with emphasis on Creative Writing) and a minor in Human Geography.

And what can you do with that?

• Editor
• Copywriter (ie: advertising)
• Technical writer
• Some kind of library job, although most require a whole other degree that I don't want to pay for.

What’s the minor good for?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Will you ever get a masters degree?

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered it. I learned a lot in my creative writing classes, and didn’t really get to dedicate as many credits to the craft as I would have liked. But let's cool our jets for like thirty seconds--I need a breather before I even THINK about jumping head first into another two years of mental breakdowns.

Student debt is also disgusting and I’m not really in the mood to double it.

Are you going to work for Disney again?

....maybe.

Are you published yet?

Hush.

So what's next?

I just...want a job. So somebody hire me. Please. P l e a s e.

In the meantime, I'll be here! Blogging away for anyone who cares to listen.


Until later,

- Justyne

AND A HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME (BEDS 002)

Welcome, friends, to my birthday weekend--a four day event, and the final four days before university returns to take over my life! I'll be straight with you--I have no idea what's going on, or what's going to happen, because it's currently still August and I'm trying to schedule as many of these damn blogs as I possibly can before I get too caught up in procrastinating my homework. (There will be cheesecake, though.)

But I do know one thing--today, as you all are reading this, I am 22. I am older than little ten year old me ever thought I could possibly get, and probably younger than the future fifty year old me could ever remember being. I am the age that Taylor Swift wrote a song about, an age that is once again a digit higher than that of my best friend, until she catches up with me four months from now. I am one year above the legal drinking age in the states, and 4 years above the one in my home province.

Every time my birthday comes around, I think, "I can't believe I'm this old." 22 is not old, yet it is, because I have never experienced an age any older than what I am. I will continue to think this every time a birthday comes around, every time my younger sisters reach milestones that I can hardly believe that I've already passed. I will continue to think that I only graduated a year or two ago, when in fact my old high school is now filled exclusively with people I have never gone to school with. I will continue to think that middle school was only a handful of years ago, when in fact it has been a near decade. And I will continue to deny that, with every passing year, the number of friends whom I have known for a decade climbs higher--because the fact that I am old enough to know someone for a decade is scary as hell.

But no matter how old I get, I will always use my birthday as an excuse to treat myself. I will eat cheesecake for days, and I will sleep in, guiltlessly, as long as I want. I will open presents and spend gift cards and ignore the fact that school is waiting for me at the end of it all. I will watch all my favourite movies and gorge myself on chocolate and play Sims until my computer craps out. I will surround myself with my favourite people and party--or chill--until I get sick of all of them (or until they get sick of me, whatever comes first).

And then, after all is said and done...I'll start counting down the days until Christmas, because there is not a single day that I love more than December 25th.

Until tomorrow,

- Justyne

Together (Micro-Fiction Monday)

She lost sight of her cap as it soared through the air, unable to identify it among the hundreds of twins it shared in the auditorium. She managed to catch one as it came down--whether or not it was the same one she threw was another matter entirely.

She couldn't see him through the crowd of cheering graduates. It wasn't until the majority of the teenagers had cleared out—off to find their friends and families and take thousands of pictures to remember this once-in-a-lifetime night—that she found him, off to the side, slouched up against the wall with his cap in his hands.

She approached him hesitantly. She didn't know exactly what to say; neither did he. By week's end, they would find themselves on opposite sides of the globe; him overseas, studying abroad; her in the country's capital, partaking in the internship she had dreamed of for the past four years. Both were happy with their decisions--but not with the separation they brought.

They said goodbye that night, their words stiff and awkward. They grew apart the way most high school acquaintances do: gradually, until suddenly they couldn't recall the last conversation they shared. Years passed, and although the relationship was never truly forgotten, the hectic nature of their individual lives left little time for reminiscing.

A decade passed, and the auditorium was once again filled—but instead of wild teenagers, grown adults stood milling around, talking and laughing and catching up, as old friends do.

She saw him again, slouched up against that same wall. She was more confident now—her words less stiff, her movements lacking their former hesitance. She approached him with ease; he straightened as she did.

The two shared that night together. And as their classmates talked about the happenings of the last ten years, they came together as though no time had passed at all.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

A Letter to Grads

Dear Graduate,

Make the best of your ceremony.

It may seem boring, or even a little dorky. But I encourage you--I implore you--to take advantage of this day. Celebrate with your friends, celebrate with your families. Take too many pictures and cheer too loud when your friends walk across that stage. You will not regret it.

Some of you will be happy to leave. Some of you will be sad. Some of you will be--and pardon my French--scared shitless. Maybe you'll even be all three.

That is okay.

I know that people always say that high school is the best time of your life. I don't believe that. Some say that high school was only enjoyable for the "popular kids". But...I don't believe that, either.

I wasn't popular, not by a long shot. But high school? I loved it. It was hard, and it was annoying, and I spent countless times ticking down the hours until summer, until graduation, until the day I could move on to something more. It wasn't all fun--in fact it was mostly anything but--but it changed me. At the start of grade nine, I was quiet. I didn't have many friends. I was too afraid to say or do anything that would really draw attention to myself.

Now? Well, now I'm just obnoxious, overly cocky, and use a lot bad sarcasm. But I'm happy, now, with who I am.

High school changes you. Everything that has happened over the past four years--every person you met, every class you took, every word that was ever spoken to you--whether you liked it or not, it all helped shape you into the person you are today. And the person you are today, after 13 long years, has graduated high school. If you don't think that is an accomplishment, I want you to take a step back and reconsider.

Because, dear Graduate, you did a fantastic job. I don't have to have personally met you to tell you that I, along with dozens of others, am proud of you.

It's only been a measly two years since I've graduated, so if you're not inclined to take me too seriously, I understand. There are other older, much wiser people out there, with more experience under their belt. They probably know a whole lot more than I do. If anything, I'm probably just blinded by my young naivety.

But...I think that's kind of a good thing.

You literally have the whole world at your feet right now. It's easy to be overwhelmed with the possibilities. But this is a time in your life when anything can happen--take advantage of that! Follow your interests, your passions, your biggest, craziest dreams! There is nothing holding you back!

And please, more than anything, remember this feeling. Remember this idea that everything is possible, that you can do anything--because you can.

Congratulations, Graduates.

- Justyne