If we were having coffee…
…we would NOT be having coffee.
Oh my gosh! Didn’t I tell you Penn State atmosphere is electric?!? Shoulder to shoulder crowds, the bars, the random football cheers, the street music. This town is too fab to have coffee, unless we squeak over to Webster’s Bookstore or Saints Café, but I’d much rather have Creamery ice cream. There’s nothing like State College on a football weekend…except when it falls on MY BIRTHDAY!
Where were you sitting for the game? We had West Side seats thanks to the Michigan Alumni chapter. That side is best for being out of the afternoon sun–you know, to minimize sunburn–but who would expect I’d be wearing winter-ish coat on the second week of September. And gloves! I should be wearing sunscreen for the second game of the season, not a sweatshirt. You can’t see my manicure under these gloves, and it’s the first manicure I’ve had since we moved into our house. Doesn’t make much sense when you’re soaked in cleaners and sudsy water all day. This week, I don’t care. I didn’t have much time for anything else, especially with a Labor Day filled with Pokémon GO Legendary Dog raids with my husband, our version of a “playdate.”
“We Are…!”
(“Penn State!”) I yell back to whomever started the cheer.
“Thank you!”
(“You’re welcome!”) I and others around me reply.
I’ve been told we have the politest college cheer around. Who else thanks themselves? You may be ear-sore from it, but I never get tired of it. Okay, maybe late, late in the night, when the chant echoes in my sleep, but while I’m awake, I could cheer all day. As long as I have a voice that is. And how can I still have a voice since…
WE WON!! This is payback from last year. Back on our schedule after 20-some years, it was a deep rivalry now because everyone remembers how those games usually turned out. Pitt from Pittsburgh–my hometown–and Penn State–my alma mater–it was a state-within-state game, always early in the season. Last year, I was there in Pittsburgh, in the broiling sun, the kind where sunscreen dries out, next to some horrible Pitt fans–not even alumni–and I was miserable, almost sunsick. This year, a sold out Pseudo-White Out crowd. Isn’t that a breathless sight to see? Over 109,000 people rolling and shaking Beaver Stadium in a blinding, haunting wall.
Speaking of Pokémon GO, playing on campus is a dreamstate. PokeStops, critter and Gyms everywhere. My husband ordered this charging phone case for me just for this day. It’s my first time using it, but this Anker slim sleeve seems to be working. Better than the portable chargers I also have with me. This case is vital, an awesome gift. Between PokemonGO and Swarm, I’d have no battery life for Instagram or Facebook.
You’ve heard me rant about the evils of Facebook. I still use it for my Author Page, but that’s about it…until my birthday. I feel the love with birthday wishes on my wall or in my news feed. People don’t send cards anymore, so I take what I can get.
Like I have time for social media today. That’s the irony of it all.
I’ve become one of those alumni who pays $6 for a car magnet. **I turn to my husband** You go ahead to Lions’ Pride. I’ll meet you after we go into Family Clothesline. **I turn back to you** He’s surprising me with dinner somewhere tonight. It’s a birthday thing; the birthday person does not choose the restaurant. I don’t know where we’ll get in given this larger crowd, but I like surprises. As for birthday gifts, this weekend, I’m treating myself to selfish gifts. It’s not always my birthday falls on such a signature game.
I actually did sneak some writing in this week. Tuesday after Labor Day, I went to my local haunt, Rock ‘n’ Joe’s, in the Union train station. Again I worked on blog posts. Not the worst things to do. It’s not my memoir, but I am writing. After my manicure on Wednesday **I take off gloves, show off blue glittery and shimmery white nails** I wrote at SmartWorld in Denville. I organized some projects for next week, kind of making a schedule. Imagine that! I can’t complain.
Come join us tomorrow for our mandatory photo at the Lion. We’ll walk over to the Creamery from there. The line is probably and hour or an hour and a half. Trust me, the ice cream is worth the wait. The cone can be as tall as your face. You’ll see. There’s a reason that line is always this long. It’s full of people sharing stories and events and memories and favorite flavors. Plenty of time for us to talk and for you to share:
How was your week?
