They called my name "Annie Katherine Scarborough". I was really glad he hadn't read "K." because someone had asked me if my middle name was Kay. No, it isn't.
My parents named me after my dead grandmother, who I have never met, because she's dead. She was dead long before my father met my mother and long before I was concieved.
My middle name is just there. It has no real significance, other than sounding sort of regal and very British. And British is good, since we come from the town of Scarborough in England. Yes, the Scarborough of Scarborough Fair. Whopee. No, I will not play it for you, thanks for asking.
They gave us flowers. Roses, actually. It was nice, except we had to hold them throughout the whole ceremony and had to shake and grab (diploma holder with no diploma in case we got "wild" and threw our mortorboards in the sanctuary. Something about reverencing God's temple. Jesus lives in my heart, not at Calvary Christian Temple) all while holding this flower. Cradling it, more acurately. They said "like a baby".
Heels are a terrible and wonderful thing. They are pointy and very aerodynamic, and they help me make the 5 foot mark . . . but they are horrors to actually wear. I took them off the second we were done with the ceremony.
Rachel took pictures of me while I stuck my tongue out. No conventional pictures for me, because I am a free spirit, and free spirits think for themselves and do what every other free spirit does. Squinty eyes, tongue out, eyes crossed, rock fist. Check, check, check.
Dr. Hinckley told me something when I was up there, right after he gave me the little red square. He said something about "hold on to it". What? The diploma holder? The unquenchable fire that burns in my bosom? Or the gum that was in my mouth that really was contraband because he told us "absolutely, positively NO gum after we cross this door"? I love Dr. Hinckley. I miss his Bible class immensely.
When we were driving home amongst the chicken alfredo from Olive Garden and the 100 dollar bills, we saw pink clouds. My dad said that formation was rare, but he was probably making it up. After looking for a while, I noticed the biggest one was shapped a little bit like a . . . . it couldn't be! A mortorboard? It was squareish. The bottom of the square part was just cloudy. . puffy and soft- like cotton candy, but the top was almost perfect.
The whole day was perfect, actually. It started with a caramel frap from Starbucks (always the best way to start a day) and it epitomated (word?) when I noticed the cottony trees had let their seeds fly. You know, those cotton looking white fluffy particles that float around the air for a couple of days during the spring time? They're magical. It made me smile.
Something was missing though. My best friend was there, taking pictures from the church balcony and my parents were smiling and chicken alfredo was in my belly and it was beautiful.
But you weren't there.