My main concern with moving out was whether or not I would like my roommates. I lucked-out big time in that perspective, though. Where I live, there are six bedrooms which means six roommates in one itty bitty living space. Don't get me wrong, we still have our disputes over who left out their dishes last night, but for the most part, we get along rather nicely.
The best part about college is definitely the parties. Every weekend, someone's throwing a huge dance party somewhere. My favorite was the one entitled "Foam Dance." It was a huge outdoor party where the whole floor was practically waist-deep in bubbly foam and Lil Wayne blared from the speakers so loudly the whole block shook. Needless to say, I did a lot of dancing and made a lot of friends. Unfortunately, I suffered some losses as well. Mid-way through the dance, my shoes fell off, lost forever in the depth of the bubbles, along with my chapstick. All and all, it was a very pleasant evening.
Class is a whole lot more tolerable than high school ever was. Everyone in college seems to mind their own business, which is totally what I'm about. I auditioned for my school's Ballroom Dance team, and made it. Dance is easily my favorite class.
The boys are a whole lot different than they ever were in high school, too. In the three weeks i've been here, two young suitors have already brought me flowers. (Which are great for decoration and making the kitchen and living room area feel more "homely") I've been on a couple super fun dates complete with dinners, movies, and city-gazing from Dixie Rock.
It's not all about fun, though. A girl's gotta eat. So I got myself a job at the local frozen yogurt shop. The perks of my job include a 50% discount off frozen yogurt (which I can hardly stand to consume anymore) and a super cute uniform.
It was smooth sailing for the first two weeks, but then, disaster struck. It started with a minor and ignorable left-ear pain. But the irritability increased drastically day by day. Finally, it got to the point where I was forced to go to the instacare and pay 75 bucks to see a doctor. He gave me meds which took care of the one-sided ailment, but the next day, the pain crossed to the other side. So there I was, back in the doctors' office for the second time that week. After a full day of rest, I could bare it no longer.
Luckily, this all occurred over labor day weekend, so my mom and sister were able to travel down to take care of me. We went in for a third doctors visit where I was instructed to go to the ER for an IV of antibiotics. Now, my list of irrational fears is rather short, but one of the sparse items on this list is needles. And I was poked with two of them in one day.
The adventure doesn't end there, unfortunately. The plane ride was short, and I had no trouble finding my luggage, so I dragged it to my car and began driving toward home. The speed limit was rather high on the road connecting to the freeway. I was driving along when the sign pointing toward home quickly approached, instructing me to make a right turn. I suddenly slowed my car in order to make the turn, but I did not slow down enough, and my car hit a curb and ended up stuck in the red sand on the side of the freeway. It was then towed, and I was taken home by the tow truck guy.
So here I am, carless, and not exactly the picture of health. But on the positive side, I was not harmed during my incident with my vehicle, and I have lovely roommates who are willing to help transport me from place to place until my car gets fixed. And, in all seriousness, things probably can't get much worse than that. So now I'm prepared for virtually anything.
There's nothing left to do but to carry on. And that's exactly what I'm doing for the time being. Things will eventually work themselves out, right?
We'll just have to wait and see.
-Little Miss Mulish
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