Sunday, July 20, 2008
Left on the Right Coast
Goodbye, see you in three weeks!
Yes, I left my son on the right coast today. The actual goodbye was unceremonial and mercifully short, which I'm sure was designed by the leaders of the program to lessen the pain for the kids, and maybe the parents too. I held it together pretty well as I said goodbye, telling him to have a great time, but then I went straight to my car with my head down and a few tears in my eyes. Or was that sweat? Hard to tell.
Moving him into a dorm room brought back a flood of memories for me, back to when I moved into my own dorm room. However, I was not eleven, I was eighteen. It was very strange. I felt like I was dropping him off for college, except when I really drop him off for college I don't think I will make his bed for him. But in addition to a very interesting and academic class he is taking, he will have a taste of the college experience; getting along with a roommate, living in a dorm, eating in the campus cafeteria, sharing a communal bathroom down the hall, having an RA living a few doors down, and keeping his room either neat or pigsty, whatever his fancy. If he takes after one of the RAs on the floor, it will certainly be pigsty-style, but I don't care because when I pick him up it will all be packed in his suitcase. Unless he takes a picture, I will never know.
My son's dorm room right after moving in while it is still neat
An RA's room on the same floor. Note lots of clothes on the floor. He better clean this up if a girl ever comes to visit.
My son's roommate. He was very worried about who his roommate would be, but I think these two will get along just fine.
Somewhat apprehensively, I then embarked on the drive back to DC without my human GPS, only a fly for company. Yes a fly. A fly that came into the car and didn't want to leave. And once the AC was keeping up with the temperature outside, I wasn't about to roll down the window. So I subjected it to my singing along with the radio and it stopped visiting the front seat. I'm proud to say that I successfully made my way back to the Washington DC National Airport, a pretty confusing series of freeway transfers, without a wrong turn.
My son chilling on his dorm bed, probably the only time it will be made. Hey, I'm realistic.
Waiting for the hotel shuttle, I discover how hot it really is here right now. So hot that after about ten minutes outside, I have rivers of sweat running down my legs. Pretty gross. I hope know one notices, then I see men in suits who are sweating profusely and then I know I don't look as stupid as they do.
What a big day for me. So now I am sitting in the hotel bar in DC, working on my blog, drinking an ice cold glass of pinot grigio and half listening to the gay bartender talking to his parents sitting at the bar, as they discuss exactly how you plug a DVD player into the TV. Could they PLEASE come up with some more interesting conversation? I know they are capable. Maybe after they finish the scotch or whiskey or whatever they are drinking.
I have an early flight in the morning, and I have the evening to myself. Sitting in a hotel room by myself sounds good in theory but it is not as interesting as sitting in this bar. And the bar is really dead except for the bartender's parents, so that's not saying much. Oh bummer, the parents just left. If someone mildly interesting doesn't walk in soon, I will be forced to go to my room and watch CSI.