10 Things I’ve Learned By Living In a Dorm

What I do instead of Music homework: blog.

Greetings, squadlings!

As you all know, I’ve officially transferred out of my community college and into a four-year university! Huzzah!

I like it here! It’s a beautiful campus, I’ve made friends with loads of people in my building, and my classes all seem ok (apart from my two hour lab every Tuesday, CRIES). 

Having transferred midyear, I moved into a dorm. I live on an all girls floor, so it’s not too bad. That being said, here’s ten things I’ve learned in my first week in a dorm:

1. Teenage girls shed more hair than Sheepdogs.

Like, YIKES. There is hair everywhere. On the sinks, on the shower walls, in the laundry room, it’s endless. Seriously, we’re animals. tumblr_oexthvhejl1smgq1ro1_500

2. Go to the lobby/lounge. Just do it.

If you transfer midyear like I did, you’re not gonna meet anyone by just leaving your door open. Sorry, I tried. So, one day I went on down to the lobby of my building, and BOOM. I met literally every single friend I have here in my lobby. JUST GO.lobby-snacks

3. The beds are not as bad as everyone says they are.

Having a Twin XL is not some awful thing. Just get a mattress pad (I recommend a 1.5in memory foam one) and you’ll be fine. The space is fine. You’re just one person (and, if you’re like me, a million stuffed animals).

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4. That being said, there are pros and cons to lofted beds. 

My bed is now six feet tall. I am not used to that. I have stopped hitting my head on the ceiling as often as I used to, but if you’re new to college and you have a lofted bed, beware…and watch your head. Also, making/putting sheets on the bed is about to get a whole lot harder. Climbing into bed is a struggle. Getting up to pee becomes a daily battle. However, once you’re in bed, you have all that space to yourself. No one on the floor can see if you pull out the teddy bear you were too embarrassed to bring to college (or, if you’re like me, you have all your stuffed animals lined up on your bed). It rules. Just don’t sit up too fast.

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5. Privacy? Lol, what’s that?

Guess what? Your bathroom is a public bathroom now. You’re getting ready in front of your entire hall/wing. You wanna get dressed in your room? Betcha ten bucks your roommate is in there. You’re screwed. 5ilizuu

6. The showers are just as gross as everyone says they are.

Dear GOD, get shower shoes. GET THEM. Those showers are awful. Trust me, your toes will slip out of the shoes eventually and then you just have to sit back and wait for the infection to slowly kill you, because you know it will.

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7. Get all the storage supplies you can.

Bins, those plastic drawer things, baskets, you name it, you need it. Seriously. Dorms are small, and you need places to put all your crap.

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8. You will miss your pets, family, friends, etc. more than you think you will.

I’m only three hours from home, and I miss everything WAY more than I thought I would. I moved here a week ago today, and I’m already going home on Friday because I miss my dogs too much. Prepare yourself.

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9. Living on campus has pros and cons. 

Being able to leave for class two minutes before it starts is great. Dining hall food is not.

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10. Bring food. Lots and lots of food.

The dining hall is far, and the food is meh. Bring your own food. BRING IT. 6358385238963247871464835004_emma20stone20food

Overall, dorms are not as terrible as people say they are. I’m off to bed, pray I don’t hit my head on the ceiling.

Wish me luck, squadlings!

And So It Begins…

Greetings, squadlings!

I’ve officially moved into my dorm at my university! My roommate doesn’t arrive until Saturday, so I’ve got the place to myself for a couple more nights.

I’ve taken the move easier than I thought I would. I miss my family and my dogs, but I would say it’s ok here.

I’ve come to realize that I took a lot of things for granted at home. For example, I’ve never hit my head on a pipe while making my bed. I’ve never had to stand on a desk just to get in my bed. I’ve never had to take the fastest shower of my life because I was so disgusted at how nasty the shower itself is. I’ve never had to walk up an endless hill just to get food (my university is famous for its hill). 

I miss my dogs. I’ve cried once since getting here, and that was after Facetiming my mom and seeing my dog. To be honest, though, it was the beeping noise that my fridge made in the background that made me cry. I don’t miss my hometown by any means, personally I was never that much of a fan, but my dogs and my family are back there.

The fact that I’m alone probably isn’t helping. Once my roommate arrives and I get distracted with school and having a friend here, I feel like I’ll get more used to it.

There was an event for transfer students tonight, a little get-together for new members of the residence halls. Though it was up the hill, I made the trek to a random dorm I’ve never been in and played Uno with some random girls. Most of them were exchange students; two girls from Scotland, one from England, another from Africa and one from China. There was one girl who had also transferred from a community college from Michigan. I got her phone number, and currently we’re texting about how awful dorm showers are.

I’ve been calling my mom more than I thought I would. I’ve Facetimed her a few times, mainly because I’m just sitting in my dorm and literally no one has moved back in for the new semester yet. The only person (besides those I met at the transfer party) I’ve talked to since I got here is my Resident Assistant.

I couldn’t go without a dog for more than 24 hours. I have my stuffed animals that look like my dogs, but I had to get the real thing. Ok, not the REAL real thing. I bought a planter at Shopko that’s shaped like a dog. I’ve named him Sparky, and he’s sitting on top of my storage bins. As lame as this sounds, it’s actually kind of comforting to “come home” to a “dog”.

Honestly, I’m pretty fricken bored being here by myself. I hope some people will start arriving for semester soon.

Wish me luck, squadlings!

And Here We Are Again…

Greetings, squadlings.

Let me get right to the point: I’m only 19, so I’d be lying if I said I know a lot of people who have died. There’s both of my grandfathers, my uncle, some great aunts/uncles I barely knew, a high school teacher…But recently, I’ve been hit with a triple death whammy.

There was my studio director, whom I blogged about a while back. That one still stings. I find myself thinking about her quite often.

There was my neighbor, and I admit, I barely knew him. I guess him dying around the same time as my studio director (and having his funeral on the same day) is why I find him on my mind from time to time. I know his grandchildren well; I’ve gone to school with all of them and worked with his grandson.

That, however, is beside the point today.

Let me tell you about a man named John, or, as I knew him, JP.

JP worked with my mom at one of her former jobs. What he did, I have no idea. I don’t even know what my mom did. They met in 1991, I was born in 1997.

Long after JP retired and my mother moved onto another job, JP stayed in her life. He was a nice guy; a classic, tall old man who wore sweaters pretty much every time I saw him. Over the past few years, I had been joining my mother on her outings with JP, be it going out to breakfast or grocery shopping or just hanging out with him, I started tagging along when I was about fourteen. JP had no wife or children, so my mom would hang out with him.

JP was funny. He had this charisma about him that you don’t see in a lot of people nowadays. For example, one time when we were out to breakfast, JP looked at the food I had on my plate, looked up at me, and said “You eat like a linebacker.” Now, granted, most people would be offended by that. I thought it was hilarious. You can’t help but laugh when a 90-something year old man tells you that you eat like a linebacker. Frankly, I took it as a compliment.

Over the past few years, JP’s health had been slipping. He couldn’t hear well anymore, and he was forgetful. One time, my mother and I went to the senior apartments where JP lived to go to breakfast with him, and he was still in bed-he had forgotten we were coming and slept in. I would ask him how old he was, and he wouldn’t know. I would ask what year he was born, he wouldn’t remember. He would think his long-deceased sisters and parents had moved away and were avoiding him: “They moved up north. That’s where they put ya when ya get old.” 

I guess you get the gist that JP died.

We hadn’t seen him for a while; things have been pretty crazy these past few months. My mom mentioned him a few times, but we never really had the time to set up a breakfast date with him again.

Tonight, my mom called me on her way home from work, and mentioned she hadn’t seen JP in a while. I knew his health was deteriorating rapidly, and he was old (92 years, to be exact). I don’t know what possessed me to say “Maybe he died.” 

My mom was silent for a minute. JP didn’t have his own house anymore-he had sold it a few years back and moved into one of those senior living apartment things. Since we weren’t family members, if something happened to him, we wouldn’t be alerted of it. Then, my mom said, “Google it.” 

With my mom still on the phone, I typed JP’s full name into Google, along with the city we live in to narrow the search.

Boom, obituary. 

JP died on Sunday. It’s Wednesday now. He was 92 years old.

Had my mom not mentioned him on her way home from work, we never would have known. My mom would have tried to call him later next week, and lord knows what would have happened then.

JP’s funeral is on Friday, and I plan on going. JP knew that I’m transferring schools, and I leave in a week from today. I wonder, if he had been of sound mind towards the end, what he would have said to me. I wonder what he would have said when I told him I made the Dean’s List for Fall 2016 at my current college.

I’ll talk to you ASAP, squadlings. Wish me luck.

Rest in Peace, JP. June 17th, 1924-January 8th, 2017

Changes

Happy 2017, squadlings!

2017, especially the start of it, is going to bring a lot of changes. Hell, it’s been less than 24 hours, and it already has.

As y’all know (or if you don’t, read about it heremy grandmother sold her house that she has lived in for 50 years. She closed on the house on December 30th, and it officially belongs to a young couple now, named Megan and Mark (I think, I don’t remember). I met them on the closing date, but to be honest, they really didn’t seem too interested in our family or the history of the house. Whatever, that’s their problem.

Our family made our mark on the house before we left; my cousins and I managed to take the bell off the back of the door that my grandfather had placed there to alert him when one of his eight children came home in the middle of the night. Technically, my cousins and I “share custody” of the bell, and my cousins have it now. I guess there’s a weird sense of comfort in knowing that someone in our family has the bell.

We also wrote our names in places around the house (don’t worry, not in noticeable, heavily populated areas). We wrote on the back of a post in the garage and on the wall behind the furnace in the basement. I would post pictures, but they all contain our real names. We basically just signed our names. My brother, cousins, mother, and two aunts all left our mark on the house that left such a big mark on us.

Peace out, 247.

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Aside from the closing of the house, as I’m sure you all know, Carrie Fisher died.

I don’t know why I was so upset about her death, honestly. I grew up watching Star Wars with my brother, and it was a big part of my childhood. My mother’s favorite movie is When Harry Met Sally, so I also grew up watching her in that.

RIP, Princess Leia. carrie_fisher_princess_leia_by_dave_daring-d5laxr7

The biggest change 2017 is going to bring is the fact that, in just 17 days, I’m moving.

I’ve -repeatedly- talked about how I’m transferring out of my community college and heading to a university three hours from home, and in just 17 days, that’s where I’m off to.

Honestly, I’m ready to leave my hometown. I thought, as the day approached, I would be feeling more heartsick about leaving, but I’m not. Yeah, I’m gonna miss my dogs, my brothers, my sisters, my few friends who are still here, and my parents, but honestly, I’m ready to go.

I don’t even know if I can say I’m excited to leave. I wouldn’t say excited is the right word. I mean, I’m still going to be going to school, and school sucks. I guess all I can say is I’m ready. 

Wish me luck, squadlings!