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I have graduated! Surprisingly, they gave me a nifty certificate with my degree on it and not a bit of paper with I R SMRT OMG written on. Which is a shame. I would have pictures, but my dad whisked my digital camera away home and is no doubt poking at it with sticks, frightened of the pagan devilry that makes pictures appear on the screen. He is a photography traditionalist.

My parents and connorbeast's parents should not be allowed to meet. Ever. We both got the "and why aren't you two dating?" third degree, and my mother gushed to his dad about "you've got such a lovely son" (CB says his dad turned to his mother right after we walked away and asked, very confused, "we don't have another son, do we?")

Tomorrow is my ficathon-stuff-writing day in which I need to produce Dawn/Anya/Gunn, something for the Rose ficathon and a Lost fic, though connorbeast has insisted I'm not allowed to plagiarise Clueless for my Boone/Shannon story. Boo, I say. The scene with Josh reading Nietzsche would have been different, for one thing. I think poor Boone would be wondering when Clark Kent was going to show up.

Oh, and marymac and I made a DW vid. Jack Names the Planets. Guess who it's about...

ETA: forgot to say, I got turned down for my PhD funding (there were people who got Firsts who were turned down, which means a lot of freaky genius people applied, curse them, but on the other hand this means I wouldn't have got in no matter how well I'd done this year. So that makes me feel a *lot* better about failing Condensed Matter and not doing as well as I could on my project.) So I've got my job at the sign place over the summer and I'm thinking of trying to get into something in the hospital when those jobs come up in August, maybe radiology. Nothing to do with the fact that I live beside the hospital and this would mean not having to get the bus. Certainly not.