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Packing for Your Dorm: What Your Mom Can't Buy For You

This time of year always get me oh so nostalgic.  

Even though this article here is basically the what-to-pack for dummies version for new freshmen, I still got a kick of thinking about my old school days when I read it.   

I don't have a teenager or a "typical" kid, so I don't always know what the yungins are into these days.  However, I think I can say pretty authoritatively that they've got way more stuff than when I was in school.   

I remember when I first talked on the phone to my lottery-pick roommate of my freshmen year, and we agreed that we would both bring blue comforters (style of our choice) and she would bring the TV.  Her parents were letting her bring her car, but mine were not (can you imagine, kids?) so at least I would have a ride when I needed it.  I was bringing a phone that we could share (again.....sounds like olden times, I know) and we would pretty much figure out the rest when we got there.  

And did we ever.

My plucky roommate from Southeastern NC, Medeana, brought only enough clothes and personal items to get her from week to week.  She packed more like she was on a weekend adventure, whereas I was there to stay for several weeks to months at a time.  We didn't have rugs for our floor or small pretty lamps for our desks.  We didn't even have a portable AC unit!  But we did have fans.  One each.  Oh, yes, we did.  And in Robeson County, North Carolina you need those from April until October.

We eventually found our classes, made friends and learned how to be college students.  Some of it together, some not.  We were very different people, personality and interest wise, so we ended up finding our different paths.  I can still remember how much I enjoyed watching her get ready in the mirror and saying to herself (and I am not making this up) how good she looked and how her parents made some good lovin when they made her.  I still laugh now when I think about it.  She was a hoot.

At the end of our freshmen year together, we were tough 19 year-olds about to embark on our next year of school.  We had learned a lot that year.  Been through some trials.  Had success.  Had embarrassments.  We knew we wanted to move on and find other roommates, but we were both scared to say it out loud.  I remember finally sitting down on her bed one day when she was napping (oh, remember those great naps you had in college?) and us both saying very gently that we wanted to have other roommates the next year.  Medeana wasn't a very demonstrative young women (except when she was singing to herself) but I believe it was the most tender and vulnerable I ever saw her.  We parted as good friends that spring in 1994, and I saw her every now and then on campus for the next 3 years.

Over those 3 years, I had 4 more roommates.  Some were brief and some were long.  Some were much too long.  Some I liked a lot, and some I barely tolerated.  One roommate had a fully carpeted room with a loft!  She also didn't care that I froze to death at night and had a cold for nearly the whole semester I lived with her.  Another felt okay about blaring her gospel music at 3 am.  Another brought great left-overs from home, but never hesitated to insinuate how demeaning my choice of study was (social work) when hers was so much more noble (teaching).

I think about the girls and I think about my rooms.  Most of my time was spent in the same one, 308 Belk Hall.  I remember my throw rugs, my shower caddy, the sheet of craft paper my friend Stef and I had drawn on in an Italian Oven restaurant on the wall, my initials I carved into my desk drawer each year I lived there.  I remember when there was a boy I liked who lived in the dorm across the courtyard, and I could see him sitting at his desk studying.  I remember splashing beer out on a boy who had done one of my roommates wrong.  I remember standing on a chair singing "Beth" to Medeana's friend of the same name while they howled on the floor.  

It's funny how you don't think the stuff you take to school or the stuff in your room really matters.  And in a larger sense, obviously it doesn't.  But when I look back, I see those girls and I see me, and I see those things around us.  Cheap things moved from room to room.  They made us feel at home during a time when we needed it.  And it was one small part that got us through those 4 years. 

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