...October?! The sky is gray, the wind is blustery, there are intermittent light rains, and the temperature at O'Hare at 2:00 this afternoon was 63 degrees. Throw in some turning leaves and autumn is upon us. In August.
I actually love this weather. I love the fall. I love cool temperatures and the smell of fireplaces in use. I love wearing layers to guard against a chill or the chance of dropping temperatures at nightfall. Today I am wearing jeans and a cardigan and shoes that don't simply slip on and off. In August.
The weather is actually strangely appropriate for the preparation instinct I am feeling -- it's time to start shopping for school supplies! This will be the start of academic year number three that I am missing out on and I still feel the need to stock up on loose leaf, pens, binders, ooooh! maybe I'll upgrade my label maker, and make the necessary outlay for new office organizational tools that will foster my most organized and efficient school year yet!
I was at Target the other day -- so I'm sure you can see where the impulse to buy school supplies was born. Oh the myriad of supplies offered to today's students! Forget the Trapper Keepers, I want a backpack on wheels. I want a binder that folds back -- have you seen these? They are regular binders, with my favorite D-shaped rings, and the front flap folds back under the binder to make it feasible on those tiny college desks. I'm in love.
With my renewed infatuation with the handwritten word, I could not keep myself from browsing the pen section. I think today's gel pens are yesterday's erasable pens. I want them all. And post-it notes. And a mirror and dry-erase board conveniently backed with magnets to hang in my locker. And magnetic pouches that are the exact size of a locker door that can hold all of my gel pens so as to rescue them from the dark bottom of the locker beneath so many textbooks.
I want a beanbag chair for my dorm room and coordinated bedding for my bed. I want to save the article from the Sunday New York Times of a couple of weeks ago that had designers design and make suggestions for dorm room living that avoids the institutional look of a cell block and tack it to my magnetic message board. I want a hot pot to make tea and Ramen noodles -- even if today's dorm dwellers would be astonished by such ancient technology.
"Back to School" has become its own full-fledged season. It keeps the Halloween decorations, costumes, and candy from encroaching on Labor Day. I have always secretly loved Back to School. I was never too terribly upset to see summer end -- though there were many an August in a sweltering classroom that made me wish the temperatures would reflect the season -- especially in high school when I had to wear a wool skirt and blazer (okay, we only had to wear the blazer on some occasions, but now I'm old enough to bitch about it especially upon learning that the young women who currently attend my alma mater have warm weather uniforms?!). I love the excitement of a new schedule and new textbooks that seem oh so much more advanced than the ones we used the year before. I'm an even bigger sucker for the beginning of a new college semester -- but you've already had to deal with me wax crazy about that…
St. Louisans Everywhere
So, remember how I was talking about bumping into St. Louisans here in the big city (click here and read Home Away From Home)? So I'm neck-deep in Oktoberfest planning, right? A few new suckers, I mean volunteers, have been added to the logistics ranks of the committee as we move into the final stretch. I met one man the other night -- he had a familiar name and look about him. Turns out he is the brother-in-law of the St. Louisan I know in choir. While we were chatting, someone at the meeting mentioned that another new committee member who had arrived late is also from St. Louis. I didn't get the chance to talk to him.
And then today I volunteered to put together a contact list with all the names, numbers, emails, etc. of the committee members so that we can hunt each other down. Someone sent me the name of the supposed St. Louisan whom I hadn't met. He had a very familiar last name...and a cell phone number with the area code for St. Louis...Oh God! could he be the little brother of a grade school classmate of mine and the son of the soccer coach I had for eight years of grade school?! No, after checking with my brother Matt, it turns out that he is said classmate's cousin and said coach's nephew.
It's a small freaking world my friends.
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