Changes

Everyone here seems so thrilled to meet everyone else, but I’m perpetually tempted to retreat to my room.  In high school, it was popular, nay, dictated, that you never appear too excited about anything.  My droll cynicism fit in far better than it does here, where every topic must be approached with exuberance.  “You’ve been to Italy?  I’ve been to Italy!” “I worked on this BLANK and it was such an amazing experience!” I’m not used to waxing on about my accomplishments, and I’m suddenly thrust into a world where every activity must be shared with equal enthusiasm.  No, I don’t eat organic vegetables.  And I’ve never met a senator.  I suddenly feel rather small.   

The Roommate (Pt. 1)

You know those stories where roommates leave socks on the door to tell their bunkmates not to come home for the night?  That sock is now a text message and that bunkmate is me.  I don’t know anyone here, but apparently Liza has decided to be the Welcome Wagon for a special young man.  So here I am, ranting all of this on my BlackBerry because of my overwhelming compulsion to write how much I hate my new roommate.  It’s a new school year but the lounge already smells like beer and feet.  And the sofa has clearly welcomed both into its enormous cushions.  I love college.

I made a new friend, I think.  I was trying to sleep in the common area (not aided by the fact that the lights have motion detectors and flicker on whenever someone walks down the hallway or I shift even slightly) when a fellow new student took pity on me.  His name is Neal, and his roommate was apparently gone for the night as well.  Looks like the start of some Amos-cest right there.  Slept on their brand new futon and was accused of “walk of shaming” back to my floor this morning.  I don’t even know what that means.  This place is confusing.

Day One

I moved into my dorm today!  Amos Hall.  Rather, I tried to move into my dorm today while my mother kept on taking my bedding and clothes and arranging them herself while my father moved my desk around and found an Ethernet cable and I stood there, helplessly.  I actually like to organize. 

It’s sweet, the constant “All right Sweetie, the country isn’t that big and we can always fly across if there’s even the slightest problem” interspersed with the usual “Don’t do drugs and work harder, Lila.  You got into college on a technicality.”  Thank you, mother.  If that “technicality” is 99^th percentile test scores, a nearly perfect GPA and obscene amount of extracurricular activities, then yes, yes I did.  She still keeps on asking me why I want to study art after spending so many years talking about being a lawyer.  Oh God. 

 This is new, though.  The only time I was away from my parents was when I went to debate camp at Georgetown for three weeks, and they would visit me every Saturday.  I never went to real camp; I have never spent more than those few weeks without either one of them.  And now, now they’re flying across the country the day after tomorrow after a trip up the coast, and I’m not going to see them ever again.  Or until Thanksgiving, but that’s months away.  

A funny moment, though: They separate the parents from the students for a “Starting College” talk, where they essentially tell each party to stop trying to communicate so often for the first few weeks to adjust.  My father came out with a serious face and said, “Lila, we listened to what the woman had to say, and we’ve decided to ignore her completely.” Can you tell that I’m an only child?

Introductions

I realize that I missed the fundamental "Get to meet you!" part of the blog.  My name is Lila Tanlen.  I enjoy tea, arguing with people, gourmet cheese, and political talk shows.  I dislike long fingernails, change, people who hum in the car (or anywhere, really), and drinking out of Nalgenes.  But, given the lack of real description in that account, I'll give you the letter I had to write my future roommate.  The internet is as much of a stranger to me as she will be, so here goes:

Hi!

My name is Lila Tanlen, and I’m from Bethesda, Maryland.  I’m 17, and my birthday is September 20^th.  I’m an only child, and I live with both of my parents.

I just graduated from (School), which is a small private school a few minutes drive from my house.  At (School), I was on the swim team and the debate team.  I also wrote for the school paper, (Paper),  and worked for the literary magazine.  I hope to continue with these activities, as I really enjoyed them.  I liked high school – sure, I complained about the size and the monotony, but I knew how to do it.  Wake up, school, swim practice, debate practice, the like.  I never went to a high school party.  I never drank.  Never went on a date, never kissed a boy but I’m excited about embarking on a new adventure. 

 I really enjoy hanging out with friends, cooking, and hiking, and laughing so hard that my face hurts.  I’m horribly anxious really looking forward to meeting all of the new people at LAC!  

I don’t really have that many pet peeves.  I suppose that I have a few peculiar pet peeves.  I’m extremely organized, and I become homicidal when people go through my possessions can be little bit compulsive at times.  I go to sleep at around 3 AM and like to wake up as late as possible midnight and like to wake up at around 9.  I suppose that I’m not particular, so long as you keep to your side of the room and I’m fairly flexible.  I’m also pretty low maintenance – I don’t blow dry my hair or have a lot of clothes, and I prefer not to wear too much makeup, so no worries about peculiar grooming habits.

I’m really talkative, and apparently have rage issues and am known to be vicious can be a little bit cynical at times, but I’m really optimistic for the most part.  I like listening to music and reading.  My favorite bands are The Rolling Stones, Simon and Garfunkel, Tool, the Nine Inch Nails, Andrew Bird and Porcupine Tree, among several others.  I guess that you could say that I like a little bit of everything.  My favorite books are No Exit, Candide, Brave New World, and please, please don’t put me with someone like me or I’ll end up rooming with a sociopath The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.  If you have any good recommendations, I’d love to hear them. 

I’m not really sure what I want my major to be, but I’m really interested in American politics. 

I look forward to meeting you in the fall! 

Best,

Lila

You clearly have the version before all the changes were made.  Enjoy.

(Dis)Orientation

Every major novel, movie, or TV pilot starts with a major plot twit.  So here is mine:  College.  Not quite a twist, I realize, since this has been pretty much inevitable for the past 17 and a half years, but a twist for me.  I am attending a school that, for our purposes, we can call LAC.  If you'd like, you can refer to it as LA College or some variation, but if you must know, it stands for Liberal Arts College.  This is one of those safety procedures they tell me about when starting a blog to prevent questionable behavior from others.  But here, I'll give you a few hints: the school is in California (I'm as terrified as you are about this fact), it's ranked in most top 20 lists, and it is, as aforementioned, a liberal arts college.  Better get your magnifying glasses out--now there are only about 40 to choose from.  I'm sitting in my room in Maryland, packing my last suitcase while practically weeping to the Disney Channel.  Who knew that Lizzie McGuire could inspire such emotion?  Screwed.  I am totally screwed for tomorrow's hellish flight and even more hellish orientation.  I hate meeting new people.  (But more on that later).  This should be fun.