Convoking a Convocation



We weren't allowed to throw our hats.
I hid behind some trees and did it anyway...

I went to my convocation last week. What in the world is a convocation you ask?

con·vo·ca·tion
noun \ˌkän-və-ˈkā-shən\

a. The act of convoking.

b. A group of people convoked, especially the members of a college or university community who are assembled for a ceremony.

I love when dictionary definitions require you to look up the definition of another word just to understand the first one, like it's purposefully challenging your intelligence. To convoke means "to call (a meeting, assembly, etc.) together; summon." When you are summoned you feel greatly compelled to go to your summonses, otherwise you might end up in court.

After going to the wrong place trying to find my regalia, then going to the wrong classroom for the rehearsal, you would think this would worry me. Au contraire. It was extremely satisfying to know I was finishing just as I had started: not knowing where the heck to go. Five minutes before the ceremony started they told us that if we hadn't paid our fees or there were any outstanding problems, we wouldn't receive our degree. I was dumbfounded. You're telling me, the university is going to let some schmuck get up there in his gown and cap and inform him it was a false alarm? I have to believe that sometime between then and the five minutes before we were going on stage, somebody, somewhere would pull that guy out of line and tell him the bad news. My question is: how the heck did he get this far in the process (and why is he automatically a boy)?

I had been mourning the fact that graduation was not going to be what I had always imagined it would be, what movies made it out to be and what other departments who were with the same people throughout their program were probably experiencing. There were only two people I knew who were graduating with me and I don't think they would have reacted well if I started jumping up and down like a school girl (because that would be the last time I could use that expression legitimately) and giving them hugs and kisses. But I was feeling disappointed and lonely so I prayed and God showed me how to enjoy it for what it was, not for what it wasn't. He put me next to a very nice girl I hadn't met before but who was also in the writing program and this year the Christian chaplain was picked to say the prayer. She called on "the Prince of Peace" and I felt like God was telling me He was with me. I also felt like I was walking into The Phantom of the Opera when the opening music was played and I can only assume the guy playing the very old organ was trying to scare off any graduates at the last minute (university is all about weeding out the weaklings). I automatically "put my hand at the level of my eye" to block any strangling attempts, because if the UVic phantom was going to make his move it would be then people. But no worries, once you had passed that test (I got a B), the guys from Hogwarts showed up in their medieval, wizard looking outfits and played some music obviously inspired by Harry Potter. I turned to the girl next to me I had just made friends with and said, "Do you feel like you're in Hogwarts?" She said, "YES!" The Chancellor, aka Dumbledore, even had a purple Sorting Hat that he tapped on our heads before we got our degrees. Any minute they were going to call out, "Faith Blenkin, Griffindor!"



You can watch me gradauate in the UVic convocation video here but I don't know why you would. It is the longest video in the world and the first half of it is full of ponds and grass. I wouldn't make my worst enemy watch it. I am in it for point-two seconds (skip to 107:34).

Potty Talk

This is the most uncomfortable post I've ever written, but I feel it needs to be addressed. BE FOREWARNED: the picture below has gotten me many weird looks at work when people pass by. If this happens to you, smile and nod.


Why is the line going to his feet and not the toilet?

Everyone poops; did you know that? No one tells you this, but everyone poops. Jesus pooped.  Dumbledore pooped* (see bottom of the page).  The Queen poops. The Dalai Lama poops. The Pope poops (his name is also close to the word “poop”). And the thing is, it’s actually not being able to poop that is the problem. I’m not sure if it’s because of its unappealing nature or the certain area involved, but it is uncanny how offensive people find the subject of poop. You can make any number of sexual innuendos, say the f word like it’s some sort of intelligent conversation filler, but there is something inherently off-putting about the contents of your bowel. It doesn’t matter that we use the toilet on average 1-3 times a day for just this reason, it doesn’t matter that it is a huge part of our lives and crucial to a properly working body. We absolutely adore talking about food but politely abstain from talking about the fact of life that what goes in must come out. It's science, people. It can’t just stay in there forever. But as much as people don’t want to talk about a functioning bowel, they 126.59% don’t want to talk about what happens when the system quits working (findings taken from Faith'sbook Study on the Colon). Such things are so shameful we either cringe from even the allusion of it or point and laugh at it like adolescent teenage boys.