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 99th 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?
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