from such great heights

106

Posted in life by chapwoman on May 23, 2008

My dorm room is starting to feel less and less like home.

I just packed about half it to go back to Anaheim tomorrow–half my wardrobe, cleaning supplies, books, books, and more books. As I was packing, I started having one of those “life flashes before your eyes” moments where I found myself in September standing in room 106, an empty, white, and ugly space. But a vibrantly-colored comforter and lots of 4×6 pictures on the blank walls went a long way.

This space became my home and I fell in love with it. 13 by 9 feet is small enough to provide a sense of intimacy, but large enough to provide an atmosphere for friends (and guitar hero). It invites the sun to peek through my blinds every morning and stays until it sets every night above the hills. Like my bedroom at home, this space is my place of refuge. It’s where I plop down on my bed after a strenuous 4 hours in health and arch history lectures. It’s where I laugh hysterically with my roommate during the day and chat deeply with Ondrejko and Fossi at night. It’s where I meet with God and tell Him about my day and He tells me about Himself.

The problem with dorms is that the rooms seem to be like cells lining the corridors of a prison, where each room seems to be exactly the same (because they are in plan) and stripped of all individuality (we all get the same ugly furniture). But after this year, I’ve learned to appreciate that fallacy, the well-kept secret that dorm rooms are actually very lively and unique in their own quirky ways. My neighbors are in tripled rooms with bunk beds, the girls across the hall have a serious ant problem, and my room is the “handicapped” room (aka, our door is larger than everyone else’s). And everyone, including my roommate, thinks our room is larger than all the others–the truth is, our room is actually the same size, but Katie’s closet is 4 inches smaller than mine to make room for the widened door. I still don’t have the heart to tell her…

But Sequoia Hall and beloved room 106 have definitely been good to me. I won’t ever have the chance to live this close to campus again–and be on the first floor, in the closest dorm to campus. ever. again. Not only am I bummed that in three weeks this dorm will disassemble, but I’m bummed that I’ll have to strip my room of its color and its personality and its life, reducing it back to the three bare walls I first shook my head at in September.

C’est la vie,
Chappie

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