The Boy is moved in. He has been left alone to fend for himself in the wilds of the University campus. Actually, he has to make his way across four lanes of traffic before he even gets to the wild campus. He is officially staying in a motel. And seeing as how I overheard someone in the the Student Accounts office say they had over 100 students in "overflow housing," I'm guessing he's going to be there for a while, possibly all semester. He's not hating it, though. He's actually pretty happy with the accomodations. He has a full sized bed, a bathroom right in his room that he only has to share with one other person, HBO on the TV, a Microwave and a Fridge, and semi-regular maid service.
Other than all that, they are trying to make the experience as dorm-like as possible. He has an RA (I wonder how he got stuck with that gig? Sorry, Dude, you drew the short straw, you get to RA in the motel) and a roommate. They will have a shuttle running back and forth on a set schedule so they can spend as much time on campus as they need to. I think part of the RA's job will be keeping them as involved with the rest of the campus as possible.
We met the roommate after lunch. As we were pulling into the parking lot, we saw a tall boy with long straight black hair getting something out of a car and I commented that he looked like The Boy's good friend Lee, and I was thinking how if he were like Lee, they might really get along well. Then we saw that The Boy's door was open, and we knew that this must be the guy. We went upstairs (he's on the second floor,) and the boys introduced themselves. His name is Richard. He seemed quiet and polite and intelligent. He had on a t-shirt with a clever saying on it, similar to the kind of shirt The Boy likes to wear. He also seemed much more independent minded than The Boy, so hopefully that will be a good thing. He was there with his girlfriend, who is in overflow housing at another motel, and her dad. I think he will prove to be a very good roommate. I felt better leaving after meeting him.
The Boy was ready for us to go, I think. He wouldn't hug me with the roomie there, but they all left before we did, so I was able to get one in anyway. I've been hugging him a lot the last few days. He didn't seem at all nervous. He was very calm and relaxed. He was getting his stuff together, going through his backpack, and going over his schedule again. He's really ready to get on with his life and I think he's going to do just fine. I only cried the teensiest bit on the way home, and again just a teensy bit talking to Grammy later. I'm holding up well, considering. Except that he didn't put his breakfast plate in the dishwasher before he left and I haven't been able to remove it from the bar yet myself. I don't know why I'm having such a hard time over a plate full of sugar, but every time I look at it, I think about how I used to fix him french toast for breakfast as a special treat, and how that was his last meal here before going off on his own. The Vansome may have to sneak it into the dishwasher tonight after I go to bed. I honestly don't think I'll be able to.
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