back to school

Waiting in line for my student ID card under yesterday's blazing hot afternoon sun, I heard a father say to his freshly fresh freshman son: "Why don't you go stand under the shade and I'll stay here for the first few minutes."

I smiled to myself, turned and said to him: "I wish my dad was here to wait in line for me."

He looked at me incredulously: "You mean your parents made you move into the dorms by yourself?"

At first flattered for being mistaken for an 18-year-old and then feeling quickly deflated for being mistaken for a clueless freshman, I gently corrected him: "Oh no, actually, today is my first day of graduate school."

"Oh!" he said. "Congratulations! I guess you're used to doing stuff on your own."

I guess I am. Sort of. It's still bizarre.

Watching parents lug crates of towels and sheets, carry mini-fridges from faraway cars and holding back tears as they said goodbye to the kids brought back a rush of memories of that day nine (9!!) years ago when my parents unloaded the Explorer at Tercero. Man was I freaked. But I got through it.

This time, I bring with me all the knowledge of beer before liquor, happy hour specials and a *real* kitchen stocked with more than just cup-o-noodles and chips -- I got a fruit bowl filled with actual fruit that I actually eat!

Still, as I was killing time around campus before the department's orientation reception (in graduate school they *give* you beer ON campus. I heart graduate school.) I decided to call my mom and describe the frenzied parents. She, too, relived that dreadfully hot move-in day in Davis. It was a nice reminder that I'm an adult now and can do things on my own.

Then she told me to drink lots of water. Moms will always be moms.