College Town Tango

The theme of this week has turned out to be college towns, what with most of my friends and now some of my family leaving for school. Over the past four days, I have lived life practically clinging to the edge thanks to my adventures in San Marcos and College Station. As mentioned in my previous post, my mother, my sister Katherine and I spent Thursday dropping off my middle sister Becca in the oh-so-sunburnt San Marcos. What I failed to bring up is that later that day I began to "trip balls" on my newly prescribed pain pills.

Last Monday, I had my wisdom teeth removed. While the procedure went well, some slight complications arose when my pain medication launched me into another universe. As we found out on Wednesday, when I complained in an English accent of being "as itchy as an octopus" and worried about "my marshmallow feet leaving my body" (I put extra blankets on my feet just to make sure they would not float away), I was suffering from an allergic reaction to oxycodone. Just to confirm this was the case, I spent the night cuddling my parents' toilet. How tender. In retrospect, I wonder if pain medication and I should ever mix, because my replacement prescription was equally as far-out, in the sense that it catapulted me to Pluto (still a planet).

At first, my reaction to the new medication was subtle. A little clumsier than normal, I fell headfirst into the door of a Chile's bathroom stall and started talking to my mother's "dress Keens". Then, while my family was shopping for last minute supplies at Target, I fell asleep in the dressing room. I cannot be blamed, for I had nothing better to do; my cart-pushing privileges were revoked when it became clear that I found that activity all too entertaining. My mother was worried that my cackling might attract the wrong kind of attention, so she banished me and my fifteen-year-old caretaker Katherine to the sportswear department. Altogether, no harm was done. I may have embarrassed Becca, but that is my job as the eldest.

By the time I decided to pay Po a visit in College Station, the home of Texas A&M University, on Saturday, my mother had hidden my medication from me. Donald, who was also in search of an impromptu adventure, turned out to be my carpool buddy. Unfortunately for him, he unwittingly hitched a ride with a grandmother in disguise. Somehow I managed to turn a two hour trip (tops) into a three hour one. It was, however, easy to see the silver lining in the situation: a wonderful conversation with someone I have always wanted to get to know better. Our night consisted of cliché college activities: booze, beer pong, and bonding in a rather sketchy abode. All that I have left to say on the subject is that English me is much better than American me at beer pong. My secret to spotty success? Speaking with an accent. Quite the game changer.

Freshly freckled, I left a little sooner than expected (a.k.a. I bolted) early Sunday afternoon thanks to the sudden arrival of someone I care all too much about. No regrets. So far as I am concerned, I am leaving the country in twelve days and need to spend the rest of my Texas-time wisely. That means avoiding hurt at the hands of unrequited like. While I can say with confidence that I acted irrationally, I believe that everyone is allowed a couple (dozen, hundred, maybe even a million) do-silly-to-stay-sane coupons. I am cashing in on one of mine. Luckily, I cannot dwell on my decision for long. Come September 2nd, my life will be full of new distractions.

San(s Water) Marcos

I am writing from San Marcos, a college town in Texas that makes me very glad I moved to Michigan. They say the grass is always greener on the other side. If the other side is Houston, that statement could not ring truer! All I can see is yellow, yellow, yellow for miles. San Marcos, it appears, is proof that the drought actually exists. Who(ustonian) knew?

As I type, my sister Becca is becoming a big girl. She is registering for her dorm room, a colossal 9x13 double, at Texas State. I cannot pretend that I am not worried. My sister has never struck me as a big, state school kind of girl. Regardless, change is in the air (I would say wind, but it does not seem relevant in San Marcos, where there is not any). Now that Becca is moving into her new life, it is becoming more and more apparent to me that I am about to do the same.

Bonjour et Bienvenue!

If your intent is to read my, Miss J. Farmer's, musings then you have clicked on the right link. This blog is to be my cyber-home for the next 9-12 months while I study abroad in Clermont-Ferrand, France. Hopefully, my posts will be as entertaining for you as they are cathartic for me. All commentary (/human interaction) is welcome and appreciated!