I am reading something other than my 40 medical journals for the time being. My life has become quite solitary; enjoying sitting under my maple tree or in the call room reading books by a wonderful author. My wisest friend had suggested this author; being correct in his assessment (damn him!). This current book has me laughing at every other page because I have lived some of these descriptions.
One experience of the heroine is arriving at university as a freshman. In my experience at that time in my life, I arrived on campus at age 16, full of “piss and vinegar” as my Mum described me. I was fresh back from touring Europe on a Eurail pass; knew the world and had traveled it. I was invincible and full of mischievous merriment. Probably a bit dangerous for a college freshman but I always took on the world like I approach a tennis match; with focus and fun.
I met my roommate on the second day of freshman orientation. She had arrived late, unhappy that she was sharing a room with a science nerd minimalist. I owned painter’s pants, leotards (two), a beach towel that served as my bath robe and Dr. Scholl exercise sandals that were my slippers (daily wear too) but mostly I went everywhere in bare feet. I told my professors that I was a druid and needed to be in direct contact with the earth at all times. My closet was full of tennis rackets (I was varsity tennis from Day One) and soccer balls (my other sport).
My roommate was extremely feminine, dainty and quite appalled by my gregariousness, bralessness and general bookishness. My desk was next to the window; I spent hours pouring over my Applied Differential Equations text and books of short fiction. Our suite was designed for four women; two per room with a shared bathroom in the middle. The bathroom contained a tub; showers (more to my liking) were in the basement of the dorm. My two suitemates were great, one a varsity softball player; the other a math major (I was a math minor) but my roommate was a problem.
I decided to become a devout Buddhist, remembering a chant that one of my European mates had taught me. Every morning for a week, I would get up at 4AM, wrap myself in a sheet and chant. By the fourth day, her things were packed in the center of the room, she was gone! Good thing, because I don’t know that I could deal with chanting for much longer. Success!
I ended up having a huge room to myself with a closet for my still (made my own gin) and a closet for my sporting equipment. Freshman life was bliss. Those were the early days of my adventurous life at University. Now, back to my wonderful book before the pager goes off and I have to do a case.