Off to college!

As I write this, I am sitting on a futon in my dorm room at UNC Chapel Hill. In fact, by the time that you read this, I’ll have been in college for a week. My mind has officially been blown. I’m moving. Kind of. I’m quitting my job and leaving my parents’ house, where I’ve lived since I was eight (before I moved in with them, I was a lion tamer.). I’m definitely not qualified to go to college. I don’t know what qualities deem a person ready to go to college, but I know that they are definitely not present in me. Freud would probably say that this is my parents’ fault. Moving on.
So I’m going to be living with a roommate for the second time in my life. The first time was at Governor’s School East with a random dude who I had never met before. It worked out great. This time, I’m rooming with Lewis, one of my best friends. Will I still want to be this person’s friend after living with him for a year? Well, probably.
Have you ever tried to sleep on a twin bed that’s six and a half feet off the ground? Dude, not fun. For someone who is afraid of heights as it is and is used to being able to stretch out in a queen-sized bed, lofting a bed as high as it can go so you can stick a TV under it is kind of a big adjustment. I keep waking up in the middle of the night with an arm or even a leg hanging off the bed, and it’s kind of disconcerting, knowing that if I had slept for like three more minutes, I probably would have fallen off the bed and hit the floor of my room. It’s the little moments like this that are going to make college the greatest four years of my life.
I’m signed up for some hard classes, too. I signed up for something called “European History in the 20th Century.” What do I care about what happened in Europe in the 1900s? A couple world wars, some ticked-off communists, the Beatles….that’s about all, right? At least after high school, I don’t have to take any more Spanish….Espere…UNC hace que yo aprenda Español por tres años. ¡Dios Mio! On the other hand, I don’t start class on Tuesdays and Thursdays until 2:00 in the afternoon. Holy cow. Of course, on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, it’s a different story. 8:00 in the morning for them. Fun, right?
I mean, it’s college. This changes everything. But I’m at a loss as to how this might change my life. My first two days I’ve been here, my roommate and I have just kind of wandered around, waiting for me to run into people I know, which makes me wonder when the change is going to kick in. It’s kind of annoying, actually. Like, everyone that I know from Governor’s School East is now attending college here. No lie, I can’t go to the dining hall for chocolate-chip pancakes without recognizing at least three people who I know from Governor’s School, as well as running into somebody in the line who I then have to sit with and drag Lewis, who knows nobody, to sit with them, creating an awkward moment for all time while the Governor’s School person and I talk about things we know and Lewis sits silently, staring into his omelet. So that’s always fun for both of us.
On a more “both of us enjoy this” note, our suite is probably located in the most prime location our dorm building. We’re on the ground floor, and we’re the only suite on our side of the building on this ground floor. Our suite has collectively dubbed our dwelling the Man Cave, because the way our suite is set up, it kind of looks like we live in a cave. Additionally, we are men. Pretty self-explanatory, actually. Also, Lewis and I probably have the coolest room in our suite. And I mean that quite literally. We’re the only room in our suite with air conditioning, which comes in handy when the temperature only dips down below a hundred once the sun goes down.
Well, that’s it this week for The Modern Age. Join us next time for Fraternity Parties, anti-war demonstrations, and as many college-ish stereotypes as possible.
Love,
Drew