another Ernie, not stalking, oops - wrong wife, middle name sameness!

Yes, in my blog life I am STILL at orientation, hope you are enjoying the campus as much as I am:

We were waiting out front for the bus to take us to eat with our long lost kids and I noticed that the lady also known as one-who-chuckled-at-the-button-gatherer had a name-tag on that read:  'Ernie, Chicago'.  Even though Ernie is not my real name, my name is not incredibly popular in my age group (recently-wearing-cheater-glasses-age-group) except in Irish circles, so I did a double take.

I tapped her and she recognized me from my close encounters of the way-too-close-kind to the odd couple who almost let themselves go to blows over the button thing.  I introduced myself as another Ernie from Chicago.  I wondered if she was from Chicago, as in the city.  Nope, she is from a suburb about 20 minutes from the Chicago suburb where I live.  Come on!!!

We chatted for a while, and got acquainted.  She and her hubby, Bert (wink, wink) admitted that they didn't buy any gear in the bookstore because they were worried that their son won't be able to withstand the academic rigors of the school.  I don't have that same concern with Ed, but I have another college son whose fake blog name shall not be mentioned here.  I think he has moved beyond that academics-aren't-my-thing trend, but there are moments.

We had a few notes to compare there.  Also, this Ernie was wearing a pair of shoes that I too own.  Mine are navy.  I didn't tell her 'I have the same shoes as these cute silvery ones you have on' because I felt like she might need to move her seat on the bus for space.

Same name.  Similar oldest child academic issues.  Same state.  Same shoes.  Too much?  After a long day of idle chit chat about how we were bogged down by pamphlets and fliers, I welcomed real conversation.

Let's just say, I like to converse.  I admit I enjoyed some people-watching, because I felt kind of like I do at an airport:  when am I going to see these people again?  At the end of the day though, I LIKE to make connections.

The bus ride to dinner was short, and we were busy trying to locate our respective sons once the bus pulled up.  We parted ways without taking the opportunity to exchange anything more than names.  I did meet their son, Rubber Duckie, who came over to claim them for dinner while I was still searching for Ed.

The next day I bumped into Ernie and Bert at the business school presentation.  This presentation should have been offered the day before.  It would have made so much more sense.

Initially I walked into the lecture hall and glanced around for them, since they were officially the only parents I knew with a business major kid.  I took my seat without having located them.  Imagine my surprise when Bert, walked in and took a seat in front of me next to a woman in a blond pony tail.  Oh, look at that.  I was sitting right behind other-Ernie the entire time, but I didn't recognize her with her hair up.  Plus I having barely been familiar with her face, I had failed to memorize the back of her head.

About 15 minutes into the talk, Bert turned to tell Ernie something AND HE REALIZED THAT HE HAD CHOSEN TO SIT NEXT TO THE WRONG WOMAN.  THIS BLOND PONY TAIL WAS NOT HIS WIFE.  HE HAD EVEN CRAWLED OVER HER TO GET IN THE SEAT ON THE OTHER SIDE OF HER AND HAD NOT NOTICED THAT IT WAS NOT THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE.

Same shoes - great taste!  These are mine. 
I did not photo her feet.  I also did not take
 a pic of Bert perched next to blond pony
 tail, because I did not know it was going to
 end in a hilarious way.  Besides, creepy.  I
 could have pulled it off pretending to photo
 the overhead as one does
 in orientation lectures.

I knew then, we would be friends.  That is totally something Coach would do.  After the lecture, I informed Bert:  'I did not realize that I was sitting down right behind Ernie, and then I realized later that you didn't realize it wasn't Ernie either . . . because it wasn't.'  Well, we all enjoyed a good hearty new-college parents laugh over that one.  We did talk some more, but it did not occur to me to exchange contact info.

I am not a huge Facebook user.  I did admit in a previous and recent post when I wasn't trapped in orientation land that I am OLD, so now you know that was no joke.  I tend to be the old fashioned type, which is why I came home and googled Ernie Sesame from Chicago suburbia and I found her.

You know what else?  According to 'white pages', she has the same middle name as me.  When I do meet someone who shares my name, I usually ask what her middle name is.  I have never found someone with the same middle name as me.  Ever.

I jotted down her address so I could send a note to her mailbox (fear not, I would not mention the middle name bit - way too 'hey-I'm-in-your-business'), and when I told Ed my drop her a nice-meeting-you-note his eyes bugged out like he was morphing into a cartoon character.  Then I ran it by Coach.  I offered Facebook as an alternative.  Coach balked at either and categorized me as a stalker.  Ouch.

That's when I polled all of you.  Facebook message it is!