First Day of School

Looking out from my office kitchen window a few weeks ago, I saw many excited first year med students lining up for their orientation packages. First year students look younger and weenier every year. Frosh Week on college & university campuses are always a bit of an adjustment after the quiet of the summer session. Campus is crawling with a sea of girls who don't know the meaning of "back-fat" yet, and boys who have yet to see the dull-side of a razor.

As I was making my coffee, I was first reminded of the day we moved my sister into residence at McMaster and then thought about my first day at UGuelph.

At UGuelph, my parents pulled up in front of my new residence. There was a huge hoard of upper year students cheering and waiting for the frosh to arrive. The moment we parked, they separated me from my parents and one person took me through the registration process. By the time I came back, that same hoard of students had opened the trunk, unloaded the car and all of my stuff was waiting for me in my new room being watched over by my parents. Because really, there was nothing for them to do. They were at a loss. For once, they couldn't be helpful and all they could do was smother me with really trite advice. It was the first of many times where my parents were no longer needed to hold my hand. They're still adjusting to that.

My sister's move-in day was a bit different. McMaster didn't have those helpful volunteers so my parents felt a bit better being able to move all of my sister's stuff into her new room by themselves. Although, guess who got stuck carrying my sister's new bar fridge? Aish. Afterwards, my sister went off to do her registration thing and my parents finished puttering and fussing in her room. After a few moments of useless rearranging, I think my dad was at a loss for something else to do and really feeling a need to contribute more to making my sister feel loved.

He disappeared.

My sister and I were standing outside her new building, when my dad reappeared with a strange girl in tow. He brought her over to us and then left immediately to go find my mom. He didn't introduce her. He just showed her to us. Mel and I are both social enough that we extended our hellos right away. I think we both just assumed that he had managed to find my sister's new roommate.

No. No.

Nothing like that.

Turns out, she wasn't Mel's new roomate.

Nope, she was just some random girl he came across,decided to bring over and shove towards his daughter. Evidently, he felt that Mel needed a new friend. Imagine what he'll do when it comes to finding Mel a husband.

(I never was very clear on how he managed to convince that girl to follow him. Clearly not one for street smarts. I don't think Mel and that girl ever developed any lasting friendship either.)

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For those of you who don't know yet, R has decided to go back to school for a second undergrad degree at Western. We're super excited. We spent the Labour Day weekend making the move to London and settling into our new home. That's a blog on its own.

When I toured the UWestern campus over the weekend with my parents, frosh students were moving in and upper year students were hyped up in colourful outfits. The really enthusiastic ones dyed themselves from head to toe in blue or purple. I was sure my parents would have some sort of comment about that. It's quite the sight seeing purple people walking around.

Nope. All my mom really wanted to point out to us:

"Look! A bus!"

They still have it in their heads that we've moved to some hole in the ground, in the middle of nowhere, 10 gazillion miles away from civilization. My dad and I also keep having conversations like this:

Dad: Are you going to Guelph this weekend?

Me: No.

Dad: No?!?!?!

Me: I'm going to London.

(I love doing that to him)

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So yes, I went to London this weekend. Took the train back to Toronto last night. This long distance relationship thing really sucks. R and I have been practically inseparable for the past five years.

However, R is starting his first full week of classes today and I can't be more happy for him.

He'll be the really hairy-looking, studious one. At the front of the class.