The Blogger Goes Glam

Just want to give a shout-out to all my so-called friends, neighbors, acquaintances, and colleagues, plus the Fed Ex driver and the dry cleaner, who e-mailed, phoned, or told me in person a version of the following: “Wow! The picture of you on your blog is terrific! It doesn’t even look like you at all!”

O-k-a-a-a-y.

To you all I’d like to say: 1) the camera doesn’t lie, 2) no stunt doubles were harmed during the taking of this photograph, and 3) thank you (I guess).

And to my female offspring-who-has-no-name who asked incredulously, “That’s the picture you’re using?” I would like to say: Your optometrist appointment is next Tuesday at 2:00.

The Freshman Phones Home

And we have contact.

25 days after campus installation, I received the very first unsolicited voice mail message from my Freshperson. I reproduce it here for your reading pleasure.

(lots of static) “Um, mom. It’s me. A pen, um, exploded in my backpack. Is there a way to get ink off a leather wallet? Okay, thanks. Love you.”

I was thrilled by this message – I replayed it over and over to consider every little nuance and analyze every possible inflection – because:

1) The mention of the pen suggests that he may actually be doing something vaguely academic
2) The mention of the backpack means he hasn’t lost it (yet)
3) The mention of the wallet means he hasn’t lost it (and everything in it) yet

Oh, and the “Love you?” That means, well, everything.

Can You Hear Me Now?

I was busy trying to calculate the odds of sneaking the contents of my grocery cart through the ten-and-under line at my local Stop & Shop yesterday when my cell phone rang. A glance at the LCD display revealed that it was my-daughter-who-shall-remain-nameless-here-or-my-life-will-not-be-worth-living, calling me from her own cell phone. Reprinted below is our conversation, over which I am still puzzling:

HER: “Are you home?”

ME: “No, I’m at the grocery store. And no, I didn’t think a dozen eggs counted as twelve items.” (Note: that last sentence was directed to the huffy person behind me doing a visual frisk of my purchases.)

HER: “Oh, so are you coming back here soon?”

FREEZE FRAME: Notice the use of the phrase, “Back here soon.” TRANSLATION: She was home. She thought I was home. Ergo, when the nameless female-sharing-my-DNA-and-address decided to call me on her cell phone from her room, she thought that we were IN THE SAME HOUSE. But instead of expending an iota of energy and opening the door to yell out “M-O-O-O-O-M?” to get a fix on my location, she racked up precious daytime minutes on both of our cell phones turning them into a crude, expensive version of a global positioning system/walkie talkie.

I’m pretty sure that this wasn’t what Alexander Graham Bell had in mind when he invented the early prototype of this device. And that this exchange doesn't qualify as “urgent” (as in those long ago “I’ll only use it for emergencies” promises) But hey, at least she hasn’t IM’d me to see what’s for dinner…yet.

Collegial Communications

And we’re back.

As I write this, 23 days after my Freshman was deposited on campus and installed in his dorm, his communication to us can be summed up as follows:

Total number of words telephoned, text-messaged, or e-mailed: 0
Total number of numerals e-mailed: 4 (i.e. “2635”) *

* And only in response to the following maternal e-mail inquiry: “What’s the number of your PO Box so I can mail you the CD that came after you left?”

Perhaps you think I am exaggerating. I am not. Our understanding (repeated at the official sidewalk leave-taking ceremony) with our kids has always been, “No news is good news.” Besides, I have a feeling I’ll be hearing from him shortly. Judging from his anemic checking account balance (A cyber-snoop? Who, me?), I should be on the receiving end of those three magic words (“Please send money”) really, really soon.

Apologies to My Computer Geek-on-Call

Have you noticed that the former AV club guys now rule the world? They’re the only ones that can figure out what's up with the 11 mysterious TV/DVD/VCR remotes, stop the proliferation of pop ups, and cajole the cranky Internet connection.

As a certified technophobe whose in-house IT person recently relocated to a college campus in another state, I am very, very fortunate to know an enormously talented computer geek-on-call who will patiently cure my every laptop/printer/wireless server, etc. crisis. And while I don’t think he reads this blog, it has occurred to me that, just in case he does, perhaps I should be a tad nicer to him (and his fellow tech experts) in print.

So that’s why I’ve come up with my own new take on the term "geek" that is, I believe, more in keeping with this hardworking professional's truly astonishing skills and abilities. From now on, in my book, geek stands for “Genius of Everything Especially Komputers.” I'm really hoping this will catch on, so thanks for helping me get the word out.

I know. I have no shame.

Tricks of the Trade

Yes, I know it’s only mid-September but the bags of candy corn (c’mon, who really eats candied kernels of fake vegetables when they could be popping peanut M&M’s?) are already on the shelves of my local Stop & Shop. Out here in the child-centric suburbs, a parent’s mind turns to Halloween right after the homework-free honeymoon ends (i.e. day two of school).

I admit right now that I have very conflicted feelings about this holiday. I like the whole idea of it (fun, kids, junk food, and costumes). It’s just the actual experience (all that forced fun, all those cranky kids coming down from sugar highs, all that tempting junk food just-for-the-taking, and all those tacky tyrannosaurus rex costumes) that I could do without.

Then again, maybe my feelings stem from the fact that during my less-than-illustrious career as head of our Halloween household, I have actually:

1. Had to replenish our stash of Snickers and Three Musketeers on the morning of the big day – because someone (hint: she's WAY too old to collect her candy the legitimate way) got carried away taste-testing the treats her never-gains-an-ounce chocoholic husband insisted on purchasing three weeks earlier.

2. Resorted to buying Trident and little boxes of raisins in order not to tempt you-know-who.

3. Smooshed up the icing on Hostess cupcakes the better to pass them off as home-baked for a classroom party.

4. Spent way too much on a piece of polyester that purported to be the latest popular cartoon character only to have it rip right after being put on.

5. Created original costumes for my kids (hey, my daughter insisted on being a horse one year, not a popular commercial costume choice) that drew blank stares and “What's that supposed to be?” queries from their more sensibly polyestered peers.

Then again, at least I haven’t resorted to giving out nutritionally-friendly stickers and coloring books, or shutting off the front porch lights to pretend no one was home. Yet.

Move-In Adventures

Yes, yes, I promised to get back to the big college move-in. Alright, think rainstorm, no elevators, two flights of concrete stairs, and a co-parent of the male persuasion who was in charge of setting up the fancy iPod docking station/alarm clock and the new printer but FORGOT HIS READING GLASSES, and you get the general idea. While our Freshperson set up his computer and internet connection, I made up his bed, after which the third party in our hard-working trio promptly took a nap on it.

Actually, the whole thing was all really fine and smoother-than-expected. Indeed, all the unpacking and settling in was easier and took less time than it did for the student’s parents to find their only-five-minutes-away hotel afterwards (a special shout-out here to the urban planners who thought that not marking scores of one-way streets would be a fun introduction to the charming old historical district of their fair city). NOTE: Yes, we had a map but one of us doesn’t do maps and the other one STILL did not have his reading glasses.

So after the inevitable testy verbal sparring match during which someone refused to ask for directions, it came to me. I shoulda packed up my husband, too. Learn from my mistake: reading glasses might be the most useful item in the dad's toolbox.

More About Moi

Okay, right about now I know you are probably expecting to find out how I fared after the big pack-up with the actual delivery and installation of my new college freshman. But I also understand that you might be asking yourself: "Who exactly is this Laurie Yarnell anyway and why should I read her blog?" You could click on the "About Me" link above my photo to get some more info, but lots of people (i.e. my sister) are saying that they didn't know they were supposed to do that and neither will anyone else. So let me make it easy for you here and tell you some More About Moi.

If it takes a village – with or without the “i” – to raise a single child, then trust me here when I tell you that it takes a veritable planet to minister to the needs of my uber-fussy suburban New York family. That family includes an annoyingly thin yet Double Stuff Oreo-addicted husband, two often exasperating but usually entertaining offspring (my new college freshman son, plus a daughter who will disown me if I say anything else about her here), and two more (much nicer-to-me) kids of the canine variety. Rounding out my family unit are five assorted ultra-fragile salt water fish, one whose poisonous sting recently sent my should-have-known-better-than-to-stick-his-hand-into-the-tank spouse by ambulance to a regional toxin control ER (don’t ask).

When not pursuing a hard-hitting investigative journalism career for an upscale lifestyle magazine (Where can one snag Dior at discount? How best to Botox?), I can usually be found literally embedded at home, propped up in bed with my laptop on my knees and tapping away about my life.

WARNING FROM iVILLAGE: Laurie Yarnell does not now – nor has she ever –owned a mini-van. And her kids played soccer for about a minute-and-a-half. But she is funny, interesting, engaging, thought-provoking, and above all, charmingly modest.

Okay, so that's all about me. I promise to bring you up-to-date on the big college move-in in my next post. Stay tuned.

My Future Freshman and I Prepare for Higher Ed

It’s the most wonderful time of the year for moms like moi: back-to-school. This year brought an added bonus for this parental funding source: I just sent my son off for his first year of college. My credit cards and I are still recuperating from the big buying (think the third grade supply list on steroids), pack-up, and moving spree. Take a look at some recent getting-ready-for-college datebook entries and you’ll see why:

Monday
I field frantic cell phone calls from fellow "boy moms" about how their sons won’t buy or pack anything and e-mails from "girl moms" about how their daughters won’t stop buying and packing everything.

My scholar-to-be goes to a beach party.

Wednesday
I do some field research at a late afternoon showing of “Accepted” – a funnier-then-expected-and-even-a-touch-touching flick about a kid who starts his own fake college after getting rejecting from every school he applied to.

My future freshman and friends catch a midnight screening of that superb example of cinematic genius, "Snakes on a Plane.”

Friday
I run out for last minute gotta-have-‘em supplies: duct tape (our post-9/11 in-home lifetime emergency supply has gone AWOL), poster sticky stuff, and a tool kit, plus Extra Strength Advil for me and band-aids for my oh-so-handy husband.

My soon-to-be-student buys one item: a thig-a-ma-jig that will let him listen to his iPod in the car that he is not bringing with him to college.

So...you get the picture. Off for now: gotta go figure out how to listen to my iPod in the car; expect I’ll be as successful with this gizmo as I’ve been with my hands-free cell phone attachment (i.e. not very).

Ideas (and Lack of Them)

“Laurie,” you may been wondering, “where do you get the fascinating ideas for your blog entries?” I am so glad you asked. The answer? Everywhere and nowhere. I get up every morning and hope something fairly interesting will happen to me or someone I know or have heard about. I have noticed that if I spend the day lolling around in bed, reading the papers and snuggling with the dogs, I might come up short. When I start begging my husband to take me with him on one of his field trips to Costco in hope of finding some material, I know I’m in real trouble.

The Suburbs: A State of Mind

Now you may be asking yourself, “Do I have to actually live in the suburbs to read this blog, seeing as it is called “Embedded in the ‘Burbs”? Not a problem! Because the ‘burbs are really more a state of mind – if you’ve ever heard of, driven through, or watched one on TV, you’re there. No matter where you live, we have lots in common. You’re a dairy farmer from the heartland? Perfect, suburbanites love milk! A busy executive in the big city? My friends always tell me how my job is just like Carrie Bradshaw’s (minus the sex and all those Manolos, of course.) You get the picture.

So, wherever you live, read on and enjoy!

Welcome to My World

Hi, I’m Laurie. Welcome to my virtual world. Thanks for stopping by! Before we get started, I feel like there are a few things you should know about me.

First of all, I “helped” my daughter build a dinosaur diorama when she was in second grade. (We got an A+. It looked like it belonged in the Museum of Natural History, if I must say so myself.) Also, I didn’t really think the eighth grade production of “Grease” was as good as anything I’ve seen on Broadway, no matter what I told the other moms. And finally, as long as I'm being so honest here, you should know that sometimes I like my dogs better than my kids (they’re usually nicer to me and hardly ever hit me up for money).

Whew! I’m glad we got that out of the way; I feel SO much better having shared. So now, let the blogs begin!