Sophomore year I lived in an igloo. I was in a suite with seven other girls, which was a nightmare of its own, and my roommate and I lived in the coldest room. All the other girls had lofted beds and all the other girls were bossier than us. Which meant the temperature was normally kept around 60 or 65 because their rooms were always too hot. They told us heat rises, so we should loft our beds. This led to us standing on our beds and desks and raising our hands as high as we could to feel the air at the top of our room. Still cold. Though that probably wasn’t very scientific.
We both slept with as many blankets as we could. I brought them from home, I stole them from the common room, and my friends in a warmer room made me a blanket. I think the most I had was eight blankets. It helped a little. In the winter we learned our window was letting massive amounts of cold air in, along with snow. It actually snowed a few times in our dorm room, right over my roommates bed. And of course the college didn’t do anything about it. Junior year our door could be opened without a key if pushed and the campus didn’t do anything until we had our parents call and complain. One of the things college is supposed to do is teach you to be an adult or some shit like that but we learned we could get anything done fast if the people who had the money complained. That’s probably a good lesson too. But sophomore year I hid under blankets and adjusted the thermostat when no one was looking.
My roommate put something on the window to seal it and that kept the snow out but it never did anything for temperature. Once I left that room, I was used to having so many blankets. I liked the weight of them and how comfortable it feels to snuggle underneath all the covers. Today I have six blankets, including the garish orange and green one with some kind of jungle print that my friends made for me. At least it’s warm.
The blanket. I'm the Forbidden Forrest for a Harry Potter showing.
I decided instead of just observing people, I’m going to work on all the five senses so
Heard: The oscillating blades of a fan before I opened my eyes this morning. I can’t sleep with ambient noises so it’s my cheap noise canceller, though I don’t normally notice it in the morning.
What quirks do you have while sleeping? Do you use a million pillows, do you sleep diagonally, or something else?
I’ve never been much of a Thanksgiving person. One of my cousins has her birthday on or right around it so no one else ever really is as excited as her; she turned every turkey day into Lindsey Day instead. Plus, I’ve never really liked turkey, and now I don’t eat meat so I get most of my Thanksgiving feast from the snack table and french silk pie. Of course, the concept of appreciating what you have is always a good one, something I succeed and fail at in equal measures throughout the year.
This year, my friends were excited to throw Thanksgiving parties at their own places and have “grown up” parties. This meant making our own food, dressing up a bit, and marveling at how we’d somehow become something resembling adults. Okay, I went to the store and bought pumpkin bread. Another girl spent the day trying to get a hold of her mother to ask her the how the hell to make a turkey, but it worked out. With the fancy china and the table cloth, you couldn’t really tell we were eating on a beer pong table. Half of us sat in folding chairs, while one of us was on chest drawer. But we all got together and shared a meal and conversation so I don’t know if it was grown up but that’s enough for me.
My other Thanksgiving party wasn’t as grown up. My best friend transitions between a young adult who dresses professionally and has a full time job and a girl who never wants to leave her college years behind her. For our get together, she was the latter. She made what she referred to as safari water, or jungle juice. This would probably be where I got the biggest reminder this year to just be thankful for what I have. Not because I drank so much I was lucky to be alive, but because of a slightly drunken chat I had with her while sprawled out on the floor, one of our friends passed out between us. I’ve known Megan since grade school. She’s outspoken and hot tempered and emotional where I’m the opposite. Despite that, we have similar ideals. We both got the same degree and we’ve always gotten along easily. I make her laugh and she helps me brave when I’m afraid to. She got a job with the same company she had an internship with and now she’s making money, has gotten a raise, is basically doing all those things I thought I should be doing after college. There are times I find myself thinking should I just be like that, should I get an administrative job somewhere and just live a stable life? Well as we’re discussing my new direction in life, Megan is questioning her decisions too. This job isn’t the one she wanted; it’s the one that paid the most. She doesn’t do a lot at work each day and there’s other goals she has for herself, should she be doing something else?
It’s nice to know while I’m worried about being more like her she’s going through the same questions. But I wish we wouldn’t question. She’s being awesome about me trying to find a way to write and act and at the same time I’m telling her to do whatever she wants whether that’s to keep making enough to pay her bills and shop or anything else. She’s doing the right thing, we both are. I can get to the point where I’m overly introspective but everyone questions what they’re doing, everyone has doubts about their lives. Ultimately, I’m grateful that I’ve finally figured out what I want to do. and I’m going to stop worrying about whether it’s “right” or “wrong” on some grand scale because it’s right for me.
Also, I’m grateful that I won two rounds of beerpong. As one of the world’s worst players, that was some accomplishment for my holiday season.