September 2nd. My eighteenth birthday and move-in day.
I rolled out of my three hours of sleep, threw some sundress on, and headed over to Starbucks to pick up my first pumpkin spice latte of the season (a venti, of course — it was a free birthday reward). I showed up to campus and checked in, while my mom unloaded everything onto the sidewalk, and upperclassmen took my things to my room. As I am on the top, fifth floor, I was very grateful for that.
The dorm is bigger than I expected, while it is still a bit tight in there. Five people share a suite — two people in one room, three in another, with a shower in another room, and a bathroom in another. It somewhat feels like I’m living out of a hotel right now, but it could be way worse. (I’ve heard some of my friends’ horror stories).
I spent move-in day — you guessed it — moving in, as well as hanging out with the girl I roomed with at orientation. Since then, we’ve actually grown pretty close, and went to a Green Day concert last week. Anyone who knows me knows that I am absolute band trash, so sharing a musical moment is a big deal in my book.
You would think that we would have spent all day exploring the campus, but no. When we saw that the on-campus coffee shop isn’t opened yet and that there was a 4:45 PM shuttle heading to the mall, we knew that we needed to go grab a Starbucks. So we escaped campus, and somehow, I received yet another free drink.
When we returned we had a meeting about living in the dorms — the what’s allowed, what’s not spiel, and then there was a party at 9 PM. After grabbing some chicken wings, bleu cheese, and lemonade, we headed onto a horse-drawn carriage, and went back to the dorms to indulge in some birthday cake.
(Speaking of which, there’s still some left in the fridge… Brb…)
September 3rd. The day I’ll never forget.
Here’s the thing — my sleep schedule is the most messed up thing in the world. I normally hop into bed at 3 or 4 in the morning, but don’t fall asleep until 6 AM. Then, I’ll normally wake up anywhere between 12-2 PM. Knowing that, you’ll be shocked to hear that I fell asleep before 1 AM and awoke fully prepared for my day at 9 AM. Honestly, I don’t even know who I am.
I met up with my friend for breakfast, and then we came up with a great idea to grab coffee. Unfortunately, the on-campus coffee shop was still closed, so we decided to take a walk to the Tim Horton’s that the shuttle driver yesterday told us was “close by”. We walked two miles to get to the Tim Horton’s just for some decent iced capps, and two miles back, barely making it back in time for our meetings.
I’d discuss the meetings with you, but you already know. It was a bunch of presentations, and exactly what you’d expect. After the meetings, I collapsed on my bed and doodled in my sketchbooks, still exhausted from that coffee trip. I met back up with my friend for dinner, where we found another girl we had hung out with at orientation. The three of us then ended up hanging out in my roommate with the plan of catching the shuttle at 7:45 PM to head over to Walmart for some random things we forgot for our dorm. Except, the shuttle had left just two minutes before 7:45 — with us trying and failing to run after it.
That’s when everything really began to go wrong…
We headed back up to my room to order some dessert calzones from some place that has free delivery until 5 AM — the real MVPs. Yet, just as we headed into my room, one of my friends FaceTiming me, so now I was dealing with my two new college friends, and a friend I had known for about two years. I wish I could give you the straight up details, but it all seems like a blur. I ended up banging my head twice on the nightstand, gaining a lovely bump on the top of my head. There was water poured all over me, glitter thrown all over my floor, and the one girl kept falling off the bed laughing. Was it a fun time? Yes. Were the dessert calzones worth the hour wait? Hell yes.
It was a night of crazy and fun, yet something felt off. Am I satisfied falling asleep right now? Well, I probably wouldn’t be up at 2 AM writing this if I was.
As I was FaceTiming my old friend and my new friends, I felt as though I had these two worlds that were colliding, as cliché as it is, and I didn’t feel too great about it. I was down to FaceTime my old friend earlier when I was alone in my room, but trying to talk to them while dealing with these new friends felt like a bit much. For the first time, I really didn’t feel like I was ready to be here. Granted, yesterday, I was nervous about being here, but I was prepared to take it all on. Now, I just want to curl up into my bed at home, and have that same old friend pick me up tomorrow afternoon to hang out.
But those days are over.
I think that it is just beginning to hit me that I’m going to be surrounded by these same strangers for the next few months, until I have my lovely winter break. I’m going to feel like I am living out of a hotel, head back home for winter break, hang out with my old friends, and then return to a never ending hotel sleepover. It sounds cool to get away from your parents and hang out with friends all the time, but now I’m growing nostalgic for yesterday. *Cue the Beatles.*
I’m not one for change. I like familiarity. I like falling asleep at night knowing that I’m going to hear the familiar sound of the train at night, or knowing when the furnace will kick on and off. I don’t like sitting on my bed anxiously because what if I forgot to lock the door and some stranger walks in? Will that happen? Probably not, but I’m not at a level of trust yet with any of these strangers.
I think that it is the fear of not knowing. I have no idea who my friends will be in a month. I’m scared that my old friends and I will lose touch. What if my classes are insanely difficult? What if I realize that I don’t like my intended major — illustration — as much as I thought that I would? I don’t like the fact that I neither know nor can predict what my life will be like even a couple of weeks. It’s all just too much change all at once.
I’m positive that these worries are probably nothing at all, and I feel almost silly writing this. However, I’m putting this out there for a couple of reasons — (1) my beat at Fangirlish is lifestyle and writing about my college experiences, so I wanted to let you know my frame of mind before I beginning detailing my experiences and (2) I’m hoping there is someone out there who feels the same. I’m sure that we are not alone. We just need to take a deep breath and get through the first week.
Here’s to new experiences.