A Certified Bachelor

Zak's Berkeley diploma

It’s true. While I was in Oakland this past week, my stepfather delivered to me a piece of mail that had been sitting around for a few weeks. He thought it was my college transcripts, so I was in no big hurry to receive them. Lo and behold—my diploma from UC Berkeley! It confers upon me the title of Bachelor of Arts. (And I think to myself, ah, freewheeling bachelorhood: no commitment, no strings. The days when art was my mistress.)

Sure, the date says “May 2010,” instead of “December 2000” as it should, but it’s been ten years—it’s like being carded now at a bar. So long as they give me a drink, I don’t care what the ID says.

Damn, I’ve earned this fucker.

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  1. I think it odd that we have the same diploma. Mine just says “given at Santa Cruz”. I guess, technically, we went to the same school, but in reality, they are worlds different. I wonder if the statae schools all look the same as one another.

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