Before I defended my thesis last week, I was feeling like this:

Here's why:
My thesis director, the gentleman who would guide me through the defense and advocate for me a bit, was out of the country. I sat down across from three extremely learned gentlemen and they peppered me with questions for an hour and a quarter. Some of their questions were so complex that it took two or three minutes to formulate. In addition, I had not been told ahead of time that I'd have to take some time at the beginning to explain my project.
Luckily, I'm a decent talker.
Just to make things more difficult, I gave my panel a slightly different copy of my thesis. I had the same words as they did, but due to altered margins, my page numbers were quite different. In a very dense sixty-two page document, that makes it almost impossible to quickly find the passages they were referencing. Although it was harrowing, I must admit that I revelled in the challenge of such an experience. In fact, it was more fun than....

Happily, when I was done, I was told that I had become a Master of Philosophy -
Cum Laude. (pending their acceptance of my Notre Dame intensive Latin proficiency credits). Just before I was dismissed, they gave me my graduation gown and sent for the very attractive new head of the philosophy department who conferred my credentials.

They really have a flair for drama at Franciscan University.
(Side note to Jeff Kloska: You've got to meet this professor. At the moment of this picture I was kneeling there thinking "Geez, I bet my brother Jeff would like to read her philosophical dissertation!")
As I left the John Paul II Conference Room of the Pope John Paul II Library, my friend James who is a professor of theology told me that he had been praying through the intercession of guess who? while I was getting grilled:

That was nice since I quoted him several times in my paper. I wasn't quoting him as pope, however. I was quoting him as Karol "Lolek" Wojtyla, the dashing and brilliant young Catholic philospher of mid-twentieth century:

Incidentally, this unique painting of Wojtyla when he was a college student hangs in the library at Francican University. My big question is whether he is wearing a full sweater, or a very stylish sweater vest. He must be wearing a full sweater since he never married.
Not altogether unexpectedly, as I left the library, this man approached me.

At first, I was afraid, but then I realized it was just a representative of the Franciscan University Alumni Association "asking" why I hadn't donated yet. I gave him something on the spot.
Now, being a "master" of philosophy, my self image has changed. In recent years, while battling cancer, battling my thesis and battling other various and sundry challenges, no fewer than four strangers have told me that I look like Russell Crowe. That just happened again this past week in Steubenville. I used to have no problem with this - the image fit my mental state perfectly:

But now that I am an uncontested "master," I prefer to think of myself like this:

Feel free to call me if you have any questions about the meaning of life, avenues to personal fulfillment, why milk is the perfect drink to have with pizza, or why we park on the driveway and drive on the parkway. I'd be happy to take a walk with you and discuss these things. B.J. has already taken me up on this standing invitation. Sort of vaguely reminds a person of Aristotle and his mentor Plato doesn't it?

Well, that's about all the self-aggrandizing I can do for now. Just wait another eight or nine years for my next accomplishment - then I'll be absolutely unbearable!
Thanks for reading this and celebrating with me. Oh, one more thing. In case you didn't know, the polite gift for someone who just got his master's degree in philosophy is this: