This is a photo-diary of two weeks.
Here is some context/background information.
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In August, 2009, I completed a Ph.D. in mathematics with James Oxley and an MFA in creative writing with Laura Mullen.
My mom instructed me to attend the graduation ceremony.
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At the ceremony, after the main speaker announced how great he and his kids were, I got in line alphabetically with the other graduates to get my certificates. My family members watched from the stadium seating and clapped when my name was called. That is what they told me later, anyway, because I was too groggy from having woken up early enough to attend graduation. (Fun fact: most graduate students don't do mornings.) Since it was the summer graduation, the graduate degree ceremony was combined with the undergraduate ceremony, so I sat down and listened to the rest of the extremely long ceremony in my thick, black robe and hat and hood in a barely-air-conditioned stadium in Baton Rouge August's heat. ... It was unpleasant.
After the ceremony, I searched out my kin, and was surprised to find only my brother, Steve, all by himself. He informed me that the rest of my relatives, including the mother who persuaded me to attend the event, had gone to a restaurant for my graduation lunch. He and I were invited to join them, he added.
. . .
Srsly, who does that?
. . .
Anyway, we went to lunch. A week later, I flew across the world to my postdoc.
Here is a photo-diary documenting the first two weeks.
