The Wackiest Graduation Of All Time

Why graduate with pomp and circumstance when you can graduate with something a whole lot more representative of your college experience? Tomorrow is our homecoming and I thought it was fitting now more than ever to finally share some photos from the big day four months ago when we were evicted from this "home," consolation prize of a diploma in hand.

Oh man, that reminds me. Will you guys tell me at the end of this post to go and actually pick up my diploma?

So anyway. One of Stanford's time-honored – quote unquote – traditions is the Wacky Walk: a final collective embracing of being weird. Undergrads come to commencement in any strange get-up they can dream up as we listen to the Greats before us espouse wisdom and the like. Rewatch that famous Steve Jobs "Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish" address and see what ridiculousness you can spot!

This year, for example, we had some ominous warnings.

Some sweet messages, too.

Some, silly.

Why not play a game of catch or two? Or perhaps a round of cards, if you'd like?

Here's a bold statement to the world that you know what? I don't think we'd like to grow up, after all.

And here we have a simple plea for help. (No really, please help.)

Some of us brought it back to grade school. Was this not the BEST part of second grade?! 

Others decided to envision the future.

A couple of my diver friends decided Speedos were more appropriate. One of them may or may not have an Olympic medal too. Do you think that was a prouder moment than this one?

Can't forget all those who showed up in onesies. There were a LOT. Comfort first, you know?

After shedding the struggle bus because all that yellow spray paint was gettin' to us but also because they were a tad hard to sit in. Can you spot Kylie and Anna as bananas?

The Band (the ULTIMATE definition of weird and wacky) performed one last time for the graduates as we all shed a silent tear or two.

Those were the only Wacky Walkers my parents and my friends' parents caught on camera, but other favorites included my friend Dylan who showed up as a box of Franzia, a group who attached balloons to their back as a homage to Up, and a revealing of our very own resident gossip blogger. Our alternate ideas were: a group of lobsters as someone announced "bring in the dancing lobsters!!" into a megaphone in front of us, and a full recreation of the FRIENDS theme song. Plastic orange couch, boombox blasting I'll Be There For You, and all. But all of that was so much more ambitious, which brought us right back to our true selves: the struggle bus.

And I couldn't end without thanking these three sillies. The road to now wasn't easy, but it was so worth it to have them by my side. I still talk to them every single day, thank goodness –

This one, too. For mother hen-ing me all four years and being so, so kind, always. (And for all of the brunches and mani-pedi dates and European adventures.)

This one gets a special mention. You guys see her here all the time, but did you know that we were randomly assigned as roommates? Didn't even know so much as the other's name before we stepped foot in our room the morning we moved in freshman year, but even without communicating, we brought all matching decor and she had a microwave and I had the fridge, and so began four years' worth of roommatehood and best friendship. Couldn't have done this without her.

And most importantly, them. For everything, everything, everything.

Aw, shucks.
"Coming home" tomorrow is going to be bittersweet. Because "home" really is the right word for this place. It's where we grew up. It's where we began to find ourselves as people. It's where we dreamed. And where some of those dreams were shattered. It's a place that allowed us to embrace our weird, and our inner nerd. It was the place where friends became family.
/sap over.
/pats at eyes.
Happy Friday, y'all.