Monday, November 17, 2008

Lovely Day

Today I got a taste of one of the pleasures of parenting a young adult. I visited the womanchild on campus. The Financial Aid Office needed some paperwork from me. Since I'm mobilized, gas is less than two dollars a gallon, and it was a windswept Autumn day, I decided to drive it down.

First I decided I had to be cute. It's such a silly thing. I'm far too old to be concerned about my own cuteness, but damn it, my car is sporty, and I didn't want to shame it. Decked in my favorite jeans (the ones that make me look like I almost have an ass), heels, and my absolute to die for fuchsia leather jacket, I took care of business and then walked around campus until I found her dorm. The womanchild moved into the dorm when I was without wheels, and this was my first time to see her room. I knocked on her door and just loved the look on her face when she saw it was me. She was actually pleased, and she hugged me and introduced me to her roommate and another friend. We talked for a little while and then had to go driving. Of course, she was texting on her cell phone nearly the whole time, but it was pleasant time spent together.

After taking her back to campus, I picked up a few more job applications and then got to visit a friend. I'd spent the earlier part of the day working on government paperwork, crunching numbers and playing phone tag with bureaucrats, the last part of my day was wonderful. I found out that I'd rather look like a woman than a girl. I was reminded that my dreams and my feet are not quite in agreement on heels. I also got to see that the girl who nagged me about my housecleaning keeps her dorm room in chaos. She has two new piercings -- her ear cartilage and her tragus, that little nodule of the ear where it connects to your face -- and a tattoo on her back right shoulder. She was trying to decide what to wear to a fraternity formal this weekend and had to meet another guy later in the afternoon to "help him change a tire." Like she knows how. It was far better than keeping up via Facebook.


Blogger Lisa :-] said...

It's great to hear she is doing so well. The young are far more adept at handling trauma than we old farts. ("We?" Yeah, I know, you're younger then me. But you're still not eighteen. :D)

I'm glad you had a good day. You needed one. More to come, I'm sure...

November 18, 2008 9:36 AM  
Blogger Indigo said...

Sounds like a pretty cool day all in all. I'm more like the punk mom who wears heavy boots and ripped jeans with her Harley Davidson leather...she's way used to me by now.

My daughter did the complete oppisite, she turned out to be this mega clean woman. While at home she lived in chaotic room, that I scared to walk into. I can still hear the screaming from those arguments echoing off the walls. These days you wouldn't recognize her.


November 18, 2008 9:36 AM  
Blogger gigi said...

I love the line; 'my dreams and my feet are not in agreement on heels' ~ my own are presently duking it out as well. I fear it is a fight to the death. I foresee a future in which the heels have won, and I shall be carried place to place, pasha-style, or like some sad old geisha with bound feet.

We are never too old to be concerned about cuteness. :)

Glad you had such a nice day with your daughter!

November 18, 2008 1:46 PM  

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