My name is Sunshine, I am a paste eater

Hello, my name is Sunshine and I am a paste eater. Of course I haven’t indulged since 2^nd grade. But you know what they say – once a paste eater, always a paste eater. I do however still engage in a bit of Sharpie huffing  (anyone need me to draw up some garage sale signs?). And on occasion I have been known to paint my nails with Wite-Out (which, by the way smells pretty darned good if there are no Sharpies around). I also like to mangle paperclips, make fake “skin” with Elmers Glue and doodle on graph paper.  I’ve always had a fondness for school supplies. But I have to say, I have noticed a direct correlation between the number of years you have been in school and the relative “awesomeness” of required supplies. The level of “coolness” peaks at kindergarten and then it’s all downhill from there.

In kindergarten, besides the mandatory utilitarian change of underpants and box of Kleenex, you get to bring things like markers and finger paints and BIG crayons. As you move up in grades, the more colorful childish artsy stuff is replaced by all manner of interesting mechanical and technical things like protractors and calculators and thumb drives. Then, by the time you hit college, the manic elation of cruising  Walmart, relishing the sight of small neon colored packs of erasers  and glossy puppy folders, is replaced by a last minute run to Staples for a binder and a Bic. (There are always the overzealous freshmen who shop at the college bookstore and buy logo EVERYTHING – but I’m not even going to talk about them)

Tomorrow is THE big day -the first day of college. I am being overcome by alternate waves of excitement and fear. I can’t tell if the feeling in my stomach is from butterflies or lactose intolerance. There are decisions to be made - backpack or messenger bag? Personal grooming to attend to - chin hairs to be plucked, gray hair to be dyed. Books? Check. (OMG, made the mistake of opening the cover of the Mandarin language book and thought “what the fuck was I thinking- this shit looks really really hard!” Oh well, too late to switch to pottery now). Student ID? Yep.  I realize for the first time that my ID photo looks a lot like Ma Barker. 

Bifocals, Pepcid – all I need now is school supplies. So I head to Target, because it’s close to my apartment.

The place looks like the remote lot at O’Hare airport on Christmas  Eve - cars EVERYWHERE. This is not a good omen. Planes are flying overhead; pulling banners advertising student discounts on cable. Firemen stand ready at the entrance, passing the boot for Jerry’s Kids. On the sidewalk, garbage cans overflow, Slurpee cups drip red onto the concrete.Inside isn’t much different. There are 70,000 students at IU and I think most of them were at Target. Students all over the place; carts overflowing with microwaves and Ramen noodles and ping pong balls. Random clatches of Asians blocking the aisles. Hordes of girls in tight shirts and even tighter jeans speaking words I don’t understand in loud, high pitched, nail on blackboards, Valley Girl accented voices. Groups of flip-flop clad young men enveloped in clouds of excess testosterone, seemingly intent on running interference between me and my mission. Complete and total pandemonium. Shelves picked cleaner than the aftermath of a locust invasion. Nary a Hello Kitty lunchbox or Ironman note book to be found. I leave. I turn and leave, winding my way through the masses.

On the way home I stop at the grocery store and pick up some aspirin, cat food, Windex, a 10 pack of pencils, a composition book and toilet paper. Voila – Just like that, I am ready for school. Is the thrill gone? Hardly, because I also picked up a black, extra large, Sharpie magnum permanent marker. Laissez les bons temps rouler! Let the good times roll baby -