The first words to come out of my mother's mouth when I proudly showed her my newly mailed diploma:

"Are you sure this is real?"

Yes, Ma, it's real as real gets. I am a Master of Science in Journalism. Has a nifty ring to it. Rolls off the tongue with a certain sweetness.

But as of yet, the only perk the degree has of yet afforded me is the justification to say,

"It's (insert day of the week here), I ain't got no job, I ain't got shit to do..."

Seriously, no more school, ever! Unless I decide somewheres down the line that I have a compelling want to joint the legal profession. But don't worry your heads about that one just yet...

On the eve of my last day as a grad student I went for a walk about the Georgetown University campus with my little sis'. Our walk happened to coincide with the feverish climax of orientation week. Inside the student center, upperclassmen were recruiting freshmeat for campus clubs and activities. Hax and I were meandering through a sea of booths and tables when she saw someone she knew. I was introduced (and we all started groovin') to her friend, a young lady apparently in charge of the recruiting. Pleasure to meet you, I said, to which she replied, "are you interested in Georgetown? I can tell you all about it, it's really awesome!"

"Um...sure...if I were about five years younger."

The poor girl was so embarassed...but the irony of the situation made me realize that I am indeed on the cusp of yet another orientation in my life. Not school though...

The job search continues.