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Last night as I sat waiting for my 15 year old to finish soccer practice, I received a call from a 212 (NY) area code I didn’t recognize but I have noticed it on my call log over the past few weeks.  I rolled the dice and answered thinking of the possibilities – maybe a job offer or an agent wanting to publish my book or my daughter saying she found a way to graduate college in  three years.  I had high hopes for this phone call.

A young voice rang out over the line introducing himself as Randy, a freshman at  our alma mater – Fordham University, hence the FU in our blog names (although on certain days the FU does not refer to the college we attended).

Randy’s cheery tone was optimistic as most 18 year olds are with their whole lives in front of them.  I knew instantly what he wanted – a donation.  I decided to interrupt before Randy was 2 sentences into his prepared speech meant to illicit high dollar contributions from alumni like myself, saying “sure” and I would be putting it on my VISA.  Randy didn’t know what to do; flustered, he stammered over his words gushing his gratitude for the contribution and for not having to proceed with his pitch.  When I told him how much I was donating, he accepted my donation as if the university would consider renaming the Vince Lombardi gym in my name, however, in reality the donation was not going to even make a dent on my taxes.  As Randy never expected to receive a donation without a bit more work, we needed to wait until his computer got to the right screen so he told me a bit about himself.  He said the donation meant so much to him because he would not be able to attend the school without the generosity of alumni (who are certainly contributing alot more than I did) and any amount reduced the monster student loans he would have when he graduated.

Our conversation made me think of the path in front of Randy and all of the opportunities he would have.  I know that I never once thought where I would be 25 years after graduating college.  It reminded me of a year ago when the three of us attended our college reunion; weeks later, still on a reunion high, we came up with the idea of starting a Private Investigation business.  Certainly sexier and more exciting than 15 years of being a stay at home mom and my current part time accounting job.  We were all channeling our inner Magnum PI wondering which one of us was going to take flying lessons so we could hop on a helicopter, like T.C, at a moment’s notice and catch a cheating husband in some exotic island tryst.  Ok, I know today is much more about the cyber hunt but a girl can dream can’t she.

I wished Randy good luck, told him he did a great job and once again he was taken aback; I hustled him off the phone anxious to return to my Girl with the Dragon Tattoo fantasy. Over the last few years, I have grown to appreciate my college days for my degree, our friendship and our toilet paper stealing/beer stealing/boy stalking days I will never have again.  As I hung up from Randy, I said a little prayer for the both of us – that he will enjoy every minute of his time on Fordham’s beautiful campus and that maybe in running away from 49 I can channel a bit of college attitude in my every day life.  But first I need to find a library to steal some toilet paper from.

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