Thursday April 9

What I have written below was written as a personal journal entry, but a friend bumped into me while I was writing and encouraged me to post it. After all, we write for an audience to read. I have made some omissions to protect privacy, but here are some of my raw thoughts (almost) uncensored.

Today has been one of those days that must be recorded before it goes down in history. It is a day where everything is pregnant with meaning: each encounter is fore-ordained, each thought is predestined.

I woke up before 7:30am, despite not having set my alarm clock the night before. I woke up knowing that today would be the day that my thesis is handed in. I had some final edits to make and I had to see what my thesis supervisor had sent me the night before. He made some very informative suggestions and additions, and I brought my laptop to Ban Righ to work. Over breakfast, I realized that something I had to clarify came from a print journal in the library, so I headed over to Stauffer to finalize my edits. I had forgotten to bring a pen or pencil as I had intended to return home after breakfast, but a kind, fellow student lent his to me. I stayed until lunch, when I returned to Ban Righ and could only feed upon a salad.

I ate with some frosh girls in my buildings. One of them mentioned that I knew a lot of people, and I didn’t deny it. I’ve built up a huge web of connection over the years. I had an enjoyable time eating with them, and found out that I can attend the BFA graduates’ art exhibit from April 20th to 25th. What a pleasant surprise to know because it was my last wish to visit the studio of Ontario Hall before I graduated, and now it appears that I can! What a pleasure.

At 1:30pm, I went to visit my supervisor, but he wasn’t in from lunch yet. I headed over to Dupuis 217 where my English 284 study session was being held. I was early, so I took a look at my essay. I received another 78%. Therefore, I have never been able to break beyond an 80% on an English essay at Queen’s. I understand. However, one of the comments my TA made was very encouraging: “You are a very good writer and a fine critic of literature. All the best for the future.” My supervisor also recently told me that I am a good writer. I feel very happy, because becoming a good writer was something I always wanted to attain before I graduated.

At 2:30pm, I swung by my supervisor's office and he OK’d my final draft for the thesis. I went home to print it out. While I was home, I realized that my stapler wasn’t large enough to contain all 35 pages, so I tried calling the Department of Psychology to see if I could use their stapler. I only reached answering machines because everyone had left early for the long weekend. But while I was on the website, which has since changed after 3 years of being “in the process of updating,” I read from the main page that the work of the first graduate student I volunteered for has since been published and the professor from the lab was quoted in the article. It’s really cool to see that the volunteer work I did has translated into someone’s success. When I entered Craine Hall, I bumped into another graduate student I had met in the same lab, who has since transferred to the lab where I volunteered in the year after. Oh how I love the Department of Psychology. I really don’t know where I belong next, but it seems like things are wrapping up and closing down.

After I submitted my thesis, I hurried back to the English study session that I had left to run my thesis errands. Upon leaving Dupuis for a second time, I caught a glimpse of a woman with long, red hair, and a man with a baby in a baby carrier. She looked awfully familiar, but since they were walking ahead of me, I didn’t want to run up to them only to find out they were strangers. Fortunately, they stopped before Union St. and I had time to catch up. I said to their backs, “Excuse me, Ma’am. Were you in my Canadian history class last semester?” She was indeed the same woman and I was introduced to baby Nora. I said, “Congratulations, she’s beautiful.” She told me that the baby arrived a day and a half after our Canadian history final exam, and I smiled and told her that I remembered that she had wished on the first day of class for the baby to come after our course had finished. How wonderful.

Right now I see two of my friends outside. It makes me happy because I know their friendship has been rocky. They look happy. Friendships heal.

They are now sitting next to me. Talking about exams and loving April.

Even though I have mostly attained my undergraduate goals of becoming an effective writer and a critical thinker, I still have trouble in the global structuring of my ideas. That is something I will go to graduate school and work on.