The hype about getting on in life
I had the graduation from my masters degree last week. Exactly one year to the day since I handed in my thesis, I was officially proclaimed Master of Science in Human-Computer Interaction with Ergonomics. UCL gave me a handshake and a mug (“I’m no mug, I’m a UCL graduate”), said thank-you for my time and asked if I could please hand over a pile of money….welcome to the life of a red-brick alumni!
I spent two years working full time plus while studying for something I enjoyed, but hated because I had coursework and exams to do; funny how studying can change your opinion on a subject! And so here I am, another over-educated Nigerian, it’s practically becoming standard to have a masters degree these days, there really isn’t much in it. You’ll have to help me tell my mother that though.
She spent 10 minutes giving me a thorough dressing down for not telling her when my ceremony would be so she could spend £1000+ on a flight over, the outfit she would wear, the ‘small gathering’ at the house, the 100+ photos in the premium package etc etc etc. The fact that I wasn’t actually that bothered is besides the point, it’s a mother’s right to attend the pomp and ceremony that is graduation, no matter how many times that may happen!
I’ve already had the business cards printed with the letters ‘MSc‘ after my name, although I’d like to plonk the ‘BEng‘ on there as well, but apparently it isn’t cool to shout about your first degree! Sitting in the award ceremony hearing the PhD candidates have a ‘Dr’ placed before their name was also tempting….should I go for a doctorate? I’d like to say hell no, but if I can find a wealthy patron to keep me in the fashion to which I am accustomed I might change my mind..;-)
I was also fortunate to attend my first members club last week as well and I was mighty impressed. The East Room by Old Street is very well hidden, i.e. it looks like a stage door and you have a buzzer that looks like its falling off the wall…and then you go up the stairs and you’re in the living/dinning room of your dreams. All the furniture looks and is comfortable and is second hand so no two table arrangements look the same. Once you’re a member, everything is much cheaper than if you went to a normal restaurant or bar of the same calibre.
The thing that blew me completely off my feet though was the fern in my cappuccino. You may call me sheltered if you like but I have never had anyone put such a delicate pattern in my coffee before (not that I drink coffee in posh places that often anyway) and this lady was very impressed! Finding out it only costs £150 for membership (women only for a limited period) was also a shock, although I don’t know if it’s because I thought it would be more expensive or because the thought of me paying that much to be a member of something means I must really believe in it right?
Jury’s out right now, I’m tempted, but may have to see more benefits, I keep swaying between thinking it’s all part of getting older, more mature, more successful, then the other part of me thinks it’s all BS hyperbole designed to take our money and sell us a very shallow sense of belonging….my lack of action suggests the latter is winning at present, but the fern in my coffee is staying on my mind!!
P.S. Do I have a readership?! Am I writing for myself alone? Comment people! You don’t have to sign up! Stop making me feel like a billy no mates!