I went to church, got a ride home, and was able to introduce one of my good church/college friends to my mother, who had come down from Minnesota to visit. It was, after all, my graduation.

In the hours before the big ceremony, we did the only sensible thing, which was to eat at a restaurant with a buffet. We talked, we joked, and my Godfather wouldn't stop giving me a hard time about girls when I mentioned some of the events that happened at the senior campout. Somehow I couldn't convince him that I couldn't care less about the opposite sex at this point in my life.

Then I left to get dressed for the big occasion. This is the point where I say that bowties are cool.

Anyway, there was a slight problem, and it sort of snowballed. When I got to the chapel where we were to hold the ceremony, I realized that somewhere along my walk there I had lost the tassel for my had. I sort of freaked out. Stupid, I know, but it's what I did. I really freak out when I lose things. I began say in a high-pitched voice "I'm a loser" over and over again while a teacher tried to calm me down.

Fortunately, not a whole lot of people saw me. Unfortunately, among the people who did was a former-crush-turned-good-friend. Ouch. That right there made me feel very shameful. I swear, I only ever get embarrassed when she witnesses me making a fool of myself, because then I realize that I could be a much better person, and I realize how downright unacceptable my behavior is.

So we got ready, walked down the isle, and got up to the stage. A friend gave a prayer. My best friend, the student body president, gave a speech. The class president gave a speech. The local Mary Sue sang a rendition of "The Star Spangled Banner" that was supposed to sound good but wasn't. There were a few choir songs and another speech by a member of the school board.

The whole while, my head was shaking. It's what happened when I get tense. It looks like I'm nodding, except it's in one snapping motion downward and then back into place. It's how I normally nod, actually, but that's besides the point: I was shaking.

Surrounding me on all sides were people with National Honor Society robes and honor chords. Graduation's supposed to be such a happy occasion, but just about every insecurity I had tucked away resurfaced and whizzed by.

Suddenly I was struck with a mega inferiority complex.

I could have done better. I could have done more community service. I could have made fewer jokes and more serious attempts to get out of the hole. I could have dwelt in my self-loathing less, but instead I got trapped in a never-ending paradox of hating myself because I hated myself. I could have got more scholarships. I could have planned for college sooner instead of waiting until the last moment. I could have finished high school stronger. I could stop shaking my head and looking so stupid up here.

Well, I got my diploma. When we all stood and turned our tassels to the right side of our cap, I acted out turning an imaginary tassel. Then when we left, dropped my diploma in the trash, because right about then I was feeling that depressed and worthless.

Don't worry, I retrieved it later. My mother also said that the only funny thing in the entire graduation process (which she thinks is boring) was me pretending to turn the tassel (favoritism?).

Most importantly, I got rid of the depression right away. Heck, it was my last official event at high school, and it was time to celebrate. Most of all, I wanted a picture taken with my former-crush-turned-good-friend, just because that was something worth being optimistic about.

Well, we didn't find her right away, so instead I took pictures with a ton of other people instead.

Finally, I decided that she had apparently already gone off to her graduation party. Long story short, I was right, and it was a pleasure for her and my mother to officially meet. There was a bit of a complication when I explained our friendship.

"She's a really good friend. Or rather, someone I've been sitting next to lunch lately and am glad I got to know better. Or rather..."

"Don't try to explain it," my mother said. And we took a picture.

So it's interesting how one person can instantly take me out of depression and realize that even after a million failures, life has still been worth its while. To be clear, I still realize that I'm imperfect and could use improving, but until people give up on me and really give me a reason to feel down, why should I hate myself for it? There are still things to be happy for, like friendship.

Speaking of which, I met Mr. Tacke outside of the graduation party. He had read my blog entry about him, and he said he was really touched. He put his hand on my shoulder, and I could tell that he really meant it.

That's why I love myself.

Your Honor,

Emperor Kraggh