Mmm, fresh blog space.
Welcome to the odd and Tourette’s inducing universe of yours truly! Now, in beginning, I decided to pick a topic that immediately brings forth images of growth, friendship, adjusted hygiene, claustrophobia, and MANY epic awkward moments. That’s right. Dorming 101.
Space (or the Lack Thereof):
If there’s anything to be learned from living in Littlefield where the dorms seem to be designed for 19th century midgets, it is how to utilize your space. In a nutshell: Your boxes? Stack. The walls? Hang EVERYTHING. The floor? Get a rug- it’s the new couch for your friends. And, if all else fails, resort to the dark vortex of space under your bed. Just don’t be surprised if you never see those shoes, books, boxes, or extra set of Batman sheets ever again. I bet those midgets take them.
I made the momentous decision to room with my cousin, Julie, probably one of the best decisions I’ve made so far (aside from passing on that unidentifiable soup-substance they’re selling at Jester…). I mean, I still go through the same issues a lot of other dormmates do, like drastically different sleeping habits, decor preferences, and deadly cases of flatulence (just kidding, Julie), but I might be one of the few people on campus right now that can legitimately say that I actually look forward to coming back to the dorms at night because there’s a spunky best friend to hang out with all the time. Oh look, a sappy moment.
The Roommate Agreement:
Thou shalt keep thy junk in thy trunk. That is all.
I think if the walls of our dorm room could speak, they would say, with enthusiasm, “We have two borderline-crazy people residing with us!” The centerpiece of our dorm is Lance, the cute and fruity lawn gnome. Above him is Edgar, the semi-creepy purple African mask with large buck teeth. There is also a cactus in our room. Why? Julie’s mother gave it to her to “ward away the ghosts.” How? Because “if the ghosts try to come in, the cactus will poke them.” Duh.
The Creepy Stuff:
I was told on move-in day that the Littlefield dorms are apparently haunted. Arriving at our room, we noticed that above each door was a decorated window pane. Some had paintings of flowers, some had inspirational quotes, some even had magazine-collages. Ours? A painting of a black cloud…of death. Surpisingly, it was a lot less creepy than the window pane of the door across from our room, where below Emerson’s inspirational quote of wisdom were the letters “HELP!” etched into the paint. Lovely. I won’t even talk about the random noises we hear at night.
Oh, and those shower flip flops? Best two-dollar investment you’ll ever make. I promise.
P.S. I leave you with… some snippets from the roommate:
Julie: Ugh… I have a new pimple. I think I’ll name it Shawn.
Julie: He’s half hindu, half white!
Me: HAHAHA That’s the equivalent of saying he’s half Christian, half black.