Living in the dorms on campus was the best time of my life. I know the room was freakishly small, we had one bathroom for four girls (and any friends that would come over), we had to eat at Sibsa because we were limited to what would fit in our tiny fridge and what we could heat by microwave, and it was almost impossible to do laundry on the weekends.
But it was great.
I lived with Lisa those two years. She was the best dorm mate a girl could ask for. So quiet during the day if I was napping. Always had the best advice. Gave me my nickname, I had secretly wanted a nickname for as long as I can remember, but you can't just ask for one.
To make the dorm pretty I had brought along some pictures. One really cute Kim Anderson print. It was framed and all. We had some trouble getting it to stay where we thought it looked best. I come home from class one day, and on my bed is the above picture, along with a clue from Lisa-"Guess what fell, again!"
I imagine that she was at the sink brushing her teeth when the picture fell and it made a loud noise and she jumped and let out a little scream. Of course, this is what I imagine, so whether or not this happened, I have not a clue. But I laughed anyway.
We also had some great adventures living in the dorms.
Like the night I gave a random guy $5 to get dinner with and he left a note on our door to call him and he would repay the favor. We ended up drinking cheap beer and playing chicken foot with his weird roommate. He had left, something about spiked egg nog was all I can remember.
Then there was bonfire night. We rode around in the back of a truck looking for a party. When we find one, our friend Courtney ends up breaking a table and leaving the party with questionable stains on the knees of her jeans.
Of course the nights at The Chicken, when we walked back to dorm just a little drunk and ate jalapeno bagels and hint of lime tostitos. That I will always look upon fondly.
Moving out of the dorm should have been a lot more depressing then it was. Of course after taking the stairs for the 27th time to load the last freakin box, who would be in the mood to be nostalgic?
1 comment:
I couldnt tell you where I was when that damn poster fell again. But it was upsetting.
Also the nights at the chicken with the jalapeno bagels...I do not remember those fondly after I threw up jalapenos thru my nose. That was pain like Ive never known again Berle.
But yeah it was the best. I miss those days alot. Things were so simple and dramatic. We always had stuff to talk about. Tugs at my heart just talking about it.
But the other bonuses bias that. No bills except my visa which I was fine paying $10 a month on. No responsibilities except to pass my classes and avoid STD's.
Ah yes. The good old days. When did it change Berle? When?
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