Graduation

Here I am, in the full cap, gown, and hood, in the grasp of an amazingly bad hair day. Turns out the hood is actually a big velvet thing that chokes you around the throat and drapes down your back.

Here I show Darin the cheap leather case they gave me at the Shrine Auditorium. I only get the sheepskin once they are sure I owe them no more money.

Darin and I in front of the Lucas Film Building, where I spent most of my time and most of his money.

Tiffany came to my graduation, which was damn nice of her. My own little cheering section.

Here are me, Kathleen, and Linda (who has been mentioned in these pages a time or two) at the party afterwards. I'm the one with the feral eyes. They crammed 3000 people onto two tiny sound stages. It was a mess. Bad, bad planning.

So, I've graduated.

Although I didn't look it in the above pictures, Linda told me that I looked shell-shocked all day at the Shrine. I felt shell-shocked. I'm not a very nostalgic person or given to great displays of emotion at events like this (or my first college graduation or my wedding or...). I really was more upset by this graduation than I thought I would be. I kept saying to myself, "I can't believe it's over, I can't believe it's over."

I don't know why this has hit me as hard as it has. Maybe because I had so much built up in my mind over going to USC and now it's over and I feel as though I haven't done any of it...though that's not true, of course, I've done a lot. I haven't come out of school with a three picture deal, but no one has.

I've learned a lot and been frustrated a lot and hated not a few things. I finally met a group of people who can also write and who enjoy sitting around talking about the same things I do. I've thought plenty of them are dorks and untalented, and plenty are extremely talented and should go far. I have, on occasion, engaged on speculation as to what will happen to various people.

And now it's done.

The graduation ceremony itself was pretty good. Only two of the Six showed up and they didn't approach anybody. And nobody approached them. Linda was the only one to talk to them. What they said: "We really fucked up." (Yup.) Evidently a third Sixer wanted to come and another student told him not to, so he didn't.

The guest speaker for the Film School graduation was John Wells, a graduate of the Peter Stark Producing Program (the only USC graduates to get jobs, I think). He gave a good speech, about how long it took him to break into the business and how even when he had to do menial jobs he still wrote 6 hours a day.

The Writing Division was (surprise!) the first one to go up. John Furia gave a pretty good speech about (what else) integrity that seemed definitely aimed at the Six, but not accusingly or dragging us through the whole soap opera again. He talked about how we can use our writing to make the world a better place and show the levels man can achieve. It wasn't blatant or mean--he reminded us of our responsibilities and left it at that.

(Six update: They face the Student Senate on Monday. So they get their day in court and the Senate decides what to do with them.)

After we went through approximately 2000 Production students and 3000 or more Critical Studies students, we headed over to the reception at the Film School. They had given us these dopey gold cards and told us we needed them to get into the Shrine and the reception--nobody was taking cards. They're cute souvenirs of our day.

Tiffany took off and I went to return my cap and gown. When Darin and I came back the reception had pretty much broken up--I said goodbye to a few more people and then we headed home to watch the season finale of Homicide.

Not an especially momentous day, but it meant a lot to me.

Then last night Linda, Jody, and I went out to a party I'd managed to get myself invited to at On The Rox, the club upstairs from the Roxy. Having never hit the Sunset Strip on a Friday night, I figured that this would be an interesting anthropological adventure. Also, I really wanted to do something out of the ordinary to celebrate graduation, and going clubbing is about as out of the ordinary as it gets for me.

We went to On The Rox and that broke up pretty quick, so then we headed up Sunset, thinking we would go to the House of Blues.

We stopped in a tattoo parlor because Linda is thinking of getting a tattoo. Jody, who can be loud and abrasive, pointed at some of the tattoos and loudly said, "What idiot would get a tattoo like that?" One of the tattoo artists replied, "What idiot would come into a tattoo parlor and say something like that?"

We got as far as Barfly and stopped in there. We stayed there for about 3 hours, and while I highly enjoyed watching the people and screaming over the loud music with Linda and Jody, I am thankful that I am not into that scene and don't feel the need to be into that scene. Oy.

Several guys stopped by and chatted us up. The most annoying pair were Jimmy and Timmy. Timmy was a nebbish who wore glasses and was very hesitant and sounded like Kevin Spacey on helium. Jimmy leaned way too close to all of us and went into a long description of how his last girlfriend left him for another woman. Linda was giving me looks like, "Get me out of this," so I said a couple of very rude things to Jimmy (flashing my wedding ring all the while--back! back!) and he left. He bought Jody a rose when he ran into her in the front of the club, where she went to smoke (and escape Jimmy and Timmy).

We also ran across several actresses, a producer who wants our scripts (he used to be with Cannon--I don't think he'd be interested in what we write), and a litigation lawyer whose business card includes a glamour shot of her. The litigation lawyer's companion, who seemed to be hitting on us in front of her, bought Jody a drink, so Jody felt her evening was complete.

I bought one round of drinks for the 3 of us: $22. I said, "I'm out." It's tough to be a drunk in this town, let me tell you.

Barfly is an amazingly trendy place. Everyone wears black, everyone has a great body, there's neon, there's loud music, and there are 4.5 poseurs every 3 square feet. I definitely enjoyed all the people watching--actress! model! producer wannabe! sugar daddy!--but it gets so tiring. I can't imagine having the bar scene as a major part of my social life.

Jody was way into our night there though. Very social, dancing to the music, having a great time. I haven't talked to Jody much during my two years at USC because our paths never crossed that much and when they did I always got the feeling that I'd done something to piss her off. ("She gives everyone that feeling," said Linda.) But she's very opinionated, which is rare--most people are wishy-washy, and she definitely has balls. She can make it in this Industry on sheer force of personality alone.

At 12:30 I said, "I'm done." Linda agreed and the 3 of us walked back to my car. Jody wanted to go do something else--hit another bar? get some coffee? she refused my offer of a drive home twice and I said, "Okay"--so she left us then.

I'm definitely glad I went. I was also pretty damn glad to get home.

Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics

I never did go running yesterday.