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My Profile
Fairytales for a Practical Princess - 2008-11-30
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12:49 p.m. - 2003-07-30
This is a garage sale entry. A lot of junk set out with care so it might look more interesting than it is and other people will want to take it with them. On the card table near the porch: My supply of Wellbutrin ran out a couple weeks ago. I have a refill on the 'scrip, but have been too busy/lazy to go get it. Also since I pay full price (no health insurance), the $139.40 it'll run me seemed far better spent on lumber, geraniums, and cotton candy. This was a mistake. I am now weepy, full of paranoid anxious dread (over trifles), and I'm SMOKING like a coal fired power plant owned by an EPA exempt friend of Dubbya. I was really surprised by the sharp upswing in my butt consumption. I had airily believed I was cutting back by willpower alone. WRONG! I am still trying to keep the cigs out of my mouth, but without the Wellbutrin I am constantly jonesing. The wonder drug totally helped. On the Wellbutrin not only do I smoke far fewer cigarettes, but between times I'm not thinking about smoking. Because that's really the worst of it. No sooner do I stub one Virginia Slim out than I am hungry for the next one. Pound foolishly, I have spent far more $$ on the smokes than the pills would have cost me. I'm off to the pharmacy soon as I get dressed. Displayed neatly on a blanket spread on the lawn: Broke down and started Alex's school shopping. He is now the proud owner of 2 sets of denim colored jersey sheets (x-long twin, the buggardly dorm bed special size), an extra-quiet folding blow dryer, a shower caddy, shower shoes, 2 dozen pairs of new thick and warm socks, 6 pair of new undies, and 2 pop-up mesh hampers with detergent pockets and carrying handles so should my boy deem clothes laundering is a necessity he can tote his soiled clothing down to the washers with ease. I told him that if his socks march home on their own or if at any time his undergarments are CRUNCHY, he and I will have a problem. Especially since he doesn't have to schlep his duds across town or even across campus, his dorm has a laundry on EACH FLOOR and surely in the mad whirl of campus life he can find the time to wash his clothes and bedding regularly. On the same blanket in it's own tidy pile: Alex received the name and phone number of his new roommate. They spoke briefly on the phone and then slightly longer via IM. They totted up the stuff each had and what, if any, deficiencies in furnishings and entertainment equipment they were lacking. Did they discuss lifestyles and other compatibility issues? Of course not. Far more important to find out who had the DVD player and the Game Cube. Josh and Alex were likely matched up by the housing dept because each is minoring in drama. Though Alex had said on his application he wouldn’t mind rooming with a foreign kid, (after all the exchange students we’ve had culture clashes would be no biggie) his new roomie is a native NYer. Josh is from Watertown waaaaaay upstate on the Canadian border. Around the shoreline curve on Lake Ontario from Oswego, I’m sure Watertown native Josh will deal with the fathoms deep snow and express train winds far better than Alex will this winter. Happily, Josh has a fridge and Alex is bringing a TV. Both use their computers as stereos, so they are all set. Microwaves are not allowed in dorm rooms. The power draw is too much. Like washers and dryers, each floor has a microwave in the lounge. As well as the requisite vending machines. God forbid someone has to study for an exam without several cans of Jolt and a dozen miniature bags of Doritos. Alex is pleased with his dorm assignment. He got a room in the new freshman dorm. None of the dorms at Oswego are scuzzy, but the spandy new Johnson dorm is practically a palace. Big rooms with central air and wall-to-wall carpeting. Centrally located lavatories. And the best, a direct tunnel to the dining hall. Most of the buildings are connected by tunnels, the winter weather is so severe that crossing campus aboveground can actually be life threatening. According to Health Services, the most common campus injury is frost-bite. Alex is hoping to score a job at the dining hall and really wants the breakfast shift. One, it gets his working hours out of the way first thing, leaving him the rest of the day for himself. And two, a breakfast job will ensure he gets his carcass out of bed in a timely fashion. (At least a few days a week.) With the direct tunnel he’ll have no excuse to skive off and blame the weather. On the porch itself are the following items: Jan is coming for a visit. He’ll be here on the 8th. Always delighted to see my Berlin son. As part of his degree program he must intern/work in his chosen field for a year. He’s studying software design and application. While he’s visiting he’ll be looking for a gig here in the States. Jan had started his exchange student stay with another family. Nice enough people, but just a poor fit and Jan left them to live with us. His former host “dad”, Mack, is in the high tech field and Jan’s hoping Mack can get him some leads or possibly an interview or two. I’ve already told Jan that if he scores a job within commuting distance, he’d be welcome to board with us. Alex’s room at the new house will be empty (except during the holidays). Having Jan around, even in the scant hours left between work, commute, and sleep, would go a long way toward easing my Empty Nest horrors. Wolf would be ecstatic, he loves Jan almost as much as he loves Alex. Mike laughed at me and said that for someone determined to have no new babies, I’m doing everything to make sure my life is just as child laden as it ever was. Maybe, but having Jan live with us again, a grown-up Jan with a full time job and his own money, is far different than giving birth to a whole new kid and starting the process all over again from scratch. Besides, it’s not wholly unselfish on my part. Jan knows how I take my tea too and is a good boy about going to the store for me and watching his little “brother”. Speaking of whom, Wolf wrote me a letter the other day. No reason. He just likes to write letters. He presented me with a sealed envelope with my name on the front followed by a long string of punctuation marks. Wolf loves punctuation marks. He doesn’t know how to apply them correctly yet, but no Wolf epistle is complete without a few question marks, exclamation points and ampersands. The letter reads: DEER mOM I (heart) yOu lOvE Wolf !!!?,,,&. Isn’t that sweet? That’s a keeper for sure. As for the rest of the junk I have for my mental garage sale, it’ll keep. I must be off and about my business. Videos to return. Drugs to pick up. And I saw the French bakery in town is now carrying pastries as well as bread and I’m in desperate need of a Napoleon. ~LA (PS: Sign the Guestbook, will ya? 117 hits yesterday and only 2 notes! C’mon. Y’all can’t just lurk forever!)
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