And of course, no graduation is complete without the requisite family photos with the graduate in the parking lot. We started with some normal photos, but whoever was taking the pictures must have decided that they lacked solemnity, so pomme was forced to don her graduation outfit. And to clarify, the little guy in the Hamilton College sweatshirt and graduation cap is my nephew, not an actual Hamilton graduate.

Here are some gloomy photos of the graduation itself. It took place in the gym, just like my junior high school graduation. And of course you can't see pomme, but you can meet my other sister's family here, (minus the newest addition). We then had a big cafeteria lunch in a tent to continue the festivities. The older woman in the photo is my lovely grandma, who sadly is no longer with us.

All my photos of the graduation take place at tacky graduation venues, so I've added a couple of internet photos of the college itself so you don't think the place is as hellish as it comes off in my photos. Actually I got these photos from a Businessweek article entitled something like "ridiculously overpriced colleges".

Unfortunately, the journal runs out at this point, so I've got to wing it. Actually, since this section is all about pomme's graduation, this would be a good time for her to actually chime in if she remembers anything. She says she reads the blog but I'm pretty sure that's a lie, so pomme, if you're reading, leave a comment about your graduation, and I'll incorporate the information into the blog. But on the assumption that I'm on my own here, I remember driving to unlovely Utica, the only place anywhere near Hamilton that could be called a city, for a big family dinner, meaning the immediate family and a few of the Rhodies (Rhode Island relatives), namely my grandma and my aunt and two cousins. Since we've known each other for ages, it was same old, same old, although adding Somchai and Aimee's then fiancee (she goes through engagements like other people go through toilet paper) to the mix introduced an exciting new dynamic. And pomme, the thing about your engagements and toilet paper comes out if you provide your own commentary.

As I was writing about this I was panicking because I didn't know what kind of pictures to post here, but fortunately Utica is such a boring town that it only has one hotel, imaginatively named the Hotel Utica. So, another copyright infringement and I'm good to go. Now I know we had our interesting dinner at the Hotel Utica, I think at the fashionable dinner hour of 4.30. And it's all coming back to me, I think afterwards we went to pomme's sorority party, a first for me, and got drunk in a big tent with the proud parents of the drunk sorority girls. I'm pretty sure the evening then continued on for some gambling back at the hotel/casino, since Somchai and stoli can't walk past a slot machine without stopping, and then we called it a night.

89. Clinton, New York

Hamilton is located in a small town, and my sister (Pomme on this blog) decided I was too highbrow to stay in the unimpressive hometown inns. Instead she booked me at the Turning Stone Casino, about 30 minutes away. As I pulled into the casino/hotel, I shuddered to think what the hellholes surrounding Hamilton must be like if this was the luxe version. In case you're confused, the photos here aren't a suburban office complex, but actually a place where we're expected to pay money to stay. Incidentally, thanks to Bill Coupe, whose website provided these photos. And in the interest of being fair and balanced, I should pass on that according to Bill, the Turning Stone is the place where "Hollywood types" stay when they're in town. Unfortunately, during my visit there was nary a sighting of a celebrity, from A to Z list. Just the usual assortment of folks who are happy to spend inordinate amounts of time and money in a nondescript casino/hotel/restaurant/entertainment complex. Although maybe I misunderstood the whole thing. Like their more famous brethren in Vegas who get all themed up, maybe the Turning Stone was going for a theme as well, the theme being the office complex in the sitcom, The Office. That may explain the $250 a night charge for the room, which is about what the Bellagio charges in Las Vegas. What I thought of as a total ripoff at the time may have been a fair price for a perfect replica of Slough (that's from the English version of the Office, don't know where the US one takes place but I think it's the same general idea). Turning Stone: overall-2 (Room-2, Facilities-3, Service-1).

88. Newtown, Connecticut

The next day was probably the worst of the whole trip. We had breakfast at the Cupping Room Cafe, a very rustic (for New York) breakfast place that's probably my favorite way to start a New York day. We then took the train to Connecticut, and then my journal doesn't make any sense, but I'll quote it anyway: "then my Dad drove us to Newtown, where we met my father. This was fun because I was able to show Somchai my hometown." Well, I don't know what Dad was doing while driving us to Newtown if we had to wait for him to get to Newtown before we met him, plus Newtown's not my hometown. In fact, it's the archrival to my hometown of Monroe. I would guess the second dad reference should be changed to sister, and it starts to make some sense. But it's no surprise that the journal entries are just about finished for this trip. Unfortunately, our day had only just begun. After a whirlwind tour of Newtown, I guess (although Monroe would make more sense), I drove for five hours to upstate New York for my younger sister's graduation from Hamilton College. It was the first time in about ten years that I had driven, and surprisingly all I got was a speeding ticket, so I think that went pretty well. Photos are of my anti-hometown of Newtown, obviously from the internet.