you must be very proud.

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last seen: bristling

23 december 1996 1:19 a.m.

Graduation parties are funny things, especially when they're populated by people you don't know. Or, for that matter, people you might be better off not knowing. The graduation itself was tolerable. The speakers were mind-numbingly cliche (and apallingly inarticulate for people esteemed in the halls of higher education), but -- since the fall commencement is considerably smaller than spring -- the "symbolic" conferring of degrees (it's in the mail, really!) was over quickly enough. Then came the madhouse that I solemnly dubbed the "post-graduate floral orgy," where the cap-and-gowned file into an open field packed with a few thousand beaming mommies and daddies and assorted friends. They're buried under leis, indiscriminately tied to balloons and photographed in identical, scarecrow-like poses with each and every congratulator. Derek had six people to see, so it was pretty much a lei-and-run operation for half an hour. We went alphabetically, weaving through the masses, scanning for any robed figure that might be our target graduate. I had the pattern down pat by the second guy: Big chummy "Heeeey," put on the lei, handshake and/or back-slapping hug, introduce the girlfriend ("Congratulations," I say -- hug optional), one or two "remember when" stories, wistful sigh, pose for pictures if camera is present, another handshake, on to next victim. We couldn't find number five, as there was no clear division between "T" and the adjacent letters, so after hitting number six, Derek went back to wait for his friend and I began to wander to say hello to the familiar faces I'd raced past in the preceding chaos. Turns out Greg graduated ("Oh, didn't I mention it?") today with a degree in music and journalism. He's coming back as an unclassified grad, though, so I still get to pick on him if I see him on campus. Grant, an LIS-turned-English major who was my lab partner in a class last year, also marched. Most of the other friends I bumped into were there to see other graduates, including the ex-of-an-ex who's apparently had a rough couple of years since I'd last sneered at her. Out of mercy, I smiled and said "Hi!" She smiled back. Ten karma point refund right there. After getting briefly disoriented, I found Derek again, who still had a lei left. We had to get to the first party, so he gave it to me so I could give it to Greg. "I had to lei you, one way or another," I said, a bit too loudly. Derek laughed and introduced himself heartily. Thank god for men with a sense of humor. The first gathering was at an unwisely chosen Chinese restaurant -- "unwisely" because it was located across Pearlridge Center. It took an hour to get there and nearly twenty minutes just to get a parking space (and an illegal one at that). There were at least two other grad parties in the place, or at least other events requiring large tables and balloons, but it was pretty quiet. After nodding to several tables of family, Derek and I sat at the table-of-honor where we laughed at embarassing stories and partook of a woefully small lunch. At least there was a bar. I jumped into a "remember when" discussion in which Derek was involved, but despite a "he got so drunk" tale and some delicious ribbing, I pretty much re-confirmed that he's just about the most normal, non-psychotic guy I've ever gone out with. I was later to stumble across one particularly tart detail, however. Party Number Two was back in town, but in Manoa and nowhere near any malls. It was for a group of grads, I think from TIM or CBA (or some three-letter school). This was definitely not a family affair, given the music choice and prevalence of alcohol and other recreational chemicals. It might've been the afternoon beer (on either my part or his) but I got to see a more -- for lack of a better word -- macho side of Derek. He was at ease, louder, and was a lot more... forgiving of my fondness for PDA. Still, as I was introduced group-by-group around the house (which included a token "rap group" in the garage), more than once there was a brief misstep in the eyes of Derek's friends. A couple of them said, "You know Kimi's here?" "Who's Kimi?" I asked. In due course, I was introduced to Akemi, affectionately known as "Kimi," a honestly attractive girl who's manner distinctly reminded me of Bjork. (I do admit to having a far less delicate evaluation of her at first). She gave Derek a mighty friendly "greeting" hug, and for a split-second I felt my fingers begin to burn. Thankfully, he quickly settled the conversation into something... more polite, and seemed to be particularly conscientious about addressing her as Akemi. I said hello and shook her bony hand -- purple fingernails, no less -- and did the Honorable Thing by wandering off to let them catch up. I was afraid she'd see the steam, anyway. All right, so I spied. I didn't need to, as Derek was the perfect gentleman, but when she leaned on him -- ostensibly to fix her shoe -- I had the distinct vision of marching up and pulling her pretentious little clear plastic sunflower purse over her head. (Deep breath.) Ironically, throughout the remainder of the night, we found ourselves helplessly crossing paths. We made valiant, but pretty much flatlined efforts at small talk. We also took turns rescuing eachother from getting dragged into various drunken board games, but apart from that, it was just plain awkward. She was an ex, as I later confirmed, though merely a two-month ex. I was merciful and didn't really grill Derek. Much. It was pretty clear, though, that she wasn't one of the brightest chapters in his life. Or so he said. In short, it's been a very educational evening. Word of the Day: "jealous" lili (lee- lee) `A`ole au lili. "I am not jealous." (Not I jealous.) Wait. I honestly only now realized in reading this that Derek and I both met an ex of the other today. Very very creepy. I have to concede in retrospect he handled the experience a lot better than I. Still, there's nothing quite like a burning flash of wanting to scrape someone's eyes out to remind me I'm alive... and to prove I can still be the "civil Japanese girl" and remain totally agreeable throughout the whole thing. If that's not worth a degree...