Red Hot

As I sit on my couch examining my very awkward sunburn after sitting outside for four hours watching my students graduate, I find that I am not saddened by the end of an era nor excited about the things to come, but rather disappointed, nay upset by what just unfolded before my eyes. I understand that attending a graduation by the beach brings with it some sentiment of being laid-back, but that does not lend itself to being appropriate to mill around during the ceremony or being so loud that the names being read cannot be heard by the parents who paid $200,000 dollars and put in four years just to be there. What ever happened to good manners?

That being said, the real reason why my melanin is so red is that I have spent a good portion of the day watching women, both young and old, trot around in heels that they have no business wearing. First of all, everyone knows that graduation is outside on Alumni. Since this is in regards to academia, let me break it down in a simple linear equation: graduation=outside, outside=grass, grass+heels=disaster, therefore graduation does not equal heels.

Now, I realize that this is coming from a woman who wore heels walking around a track for a philanthropy fund-raiser, but at least I knew I could hack it with the terrain in question. This morning I chose for a dressy flip-flop, appropriate for both the occasion and setting. Ladies, this is a graduation, not a time to bust out the six-inch, zipper in the back, peep-toed goin' to da club heels. And please, if you do choose to look like a lady who looks like she knows how to have a good time, at least please learn how to walk in them. Really, when you walk around with your shoulders slumped forward and your knees locked like a caveman, excuse me, cave lady, it's counteractive to the whole point of the stiletto. Did Audrey and Tim Gunn teach us nothing?

For those of you who chose to got the wedge route, I commend your efforts, but when the wedge itself is thinner than your foot, it defeats the purpose. Plus, wedges are just ridiculous anyway, but that's a whole other Oprah.

All I know is that Fashion 101 should be part of every Gen Ed curriculum.

Elite Status

I can't believe that it's taken me this long to get around to writing about this, but regardless (please note: irregardless is not a word and conceptually would be redundant anyway), I am proud to announce that I am a GOLD Member at Starbucks. That's right, I have gone to Starbucks so man times that they saw fit to reward me with a card named after a member of the periodic table. Ladies and gentlemen, I have arrived.

Okay, so I know that this is going to sound incredibly pretentious, but it's a pretty awesome feeling to stroll into the coffee shop and be greeted by name by the barista and then asked by the person behind the register, "The usual this morning? One pump or two?" Before I can even answer, the barista comments, "Don't worry about it, I've already got it." As I shuffle into the line full of agitated addicts waiting for their fix, I hear, "Hot coffee on the bar for Michelle." The employee behind the register looks at me, winks and with a smirk tells me to have a great day. I step out of the queue, garnering incredulous stares from those around me, grab my grande, non-fat one pump toffee nut misto from the bar, thank the barista and go about my day. It never gets old. However, this morning as I caught my reflection in the shining gold star on the front of my personally issued card, I thought to myself, "have I peaked too soon?"

Is this the apex of my life, to reach elite status at a international coffee house chain? What's next? What could possibly top this? Will I ever be able to reach such another high and lofty goal? Am I destined to become like one of those child stars whose 15 minutes of fame comes and goes before they have reached puberty and then spend the rest of their lives trying to regain their long-gone greatness?

I found myself in this existential tailspin for approximately three minutes, or at least until the traffic light turned green. While walking through my front door, I felt compelled to put my thoughts onto paper, and by that I mean playing on Facebook for a little bit and then typing on my keyboard. I have yet to come to a conclusion, but after searching for flights for a trip to Texas. . . Admiral's Club, here I come!