Curtain-Less

What really surprises me is how much of a girl I am when it comes to things such as napkins and shower curtains. In fact, I was actually excited over how well my towels matched the shower curtain rings in my TA when it came time for me to actually break down and decide that “perhaps I don’t want showering to be something I fear due to my lack of skill when it comes to showering curtain-less.” Yes, that's right. I moved--and my house didn't come with a shower curtain. In fact, it didn't come with a lot of things, for example, toilet paper. You'd think they'd at least cut us some slack and say, "We'll give you the first roll, but after that you're on your own." But no, in this case it was more like, "You have to use the bathroom? This should be funny." I'd like to walk around on move in day and see how many rolls are missing from the dorms due to unsuspecting seniors.

After weeks of frantically observing utter destruction (or what others might consider "construction") occur within the boundaries of the TA's (Terrace Apartments), on Friday I was finally able to chill out and move from Main Building to my newly renovated apartment! I've had the area under heavy surveillance for the entire summer, watching every budge of the construction equipment within the area to ensure that the move into senior housing would actually happen. I know there were at least a few times when I called my boyfriend in terror to say "Pat! 'The Claw' is attacking the TA's!" ("The Claw" being the scary looking machine with a clawed arm) to which he would respond, "Don't worry, it's just construction equipment. It won't hurt them." With me on the watch, nothing could foil my plans of moving into senior housing, except perhaps the threat of nuclear war.

When the day I'd spent the entire summer waiting for finally came, I was prepared. I had loaded up my car the night before in an attempt to begin moving as soon as possible. Two of my housemates arrived around noon on the day of to help me with the move because some of the things I had been storing will be mutually shared this year. With the three of us moving, I predicted that we would be done in no time. Unfortunately, no time ended up being 10 hours, after which I was completely beat. Thank god I'm not moving again until May.

Originally, my friend Chel and I had made plans to go to her house in New Jersey for the weekend after relaxing with a couple of post-move enchiladas and Pina Coladas, but by 10:30, it didn't look as if that were going to happen. In fact, to make matters worse, we couldn't even lock the beautiful new door to our TA. Thinking that the ROC (Residential Operations Center) could help, my friend and I stopped there on our way out to see if they could lock the door for us. But as soon as we mentioned to the problem to the ROC worker, a look of horror appeared on her face and she immediately called the Security office. My friend and I looked at each other, shrugging, as if there was anything valuable in our house anyways. We just wanted dinner.

When the ROC worker finished her call, she told us that the trouble-shooter would meet us up at our house in a few minutes to help us with our problem. And it was after he arrived that we found out why she was shocked. Seeing as our door had problems, it was very possible that some or all of the other doors had problems as well, which could cause a lot of fuss on campus. But after checking 4 or 5 of the doors of the houses surrounding mine, the trouble-shooter predicted that our non-locking door was a fluke. Figures.

The trouble-shooter is basically one man who has to fix all of the problems on campus. This head-honcho Mr. Fix-It of the Building and Grounds department wanders day and night looking for trouble, following security's lead to all of the impending problems around campus. And as I found out when I worked Campus Patrol, he even has his own radio line, which pretty much screams "IMPORTANT!"

But of course, the one who figured out the problem wasn't the trouble-shooter, but me. "It's like it's backwards or something...." I stammered, while the trouble-shooter inspected the door handle. While it sounded dumb at the time, it was probably the most intelligent statement within the past half hour. At least now we knew the problem, but the real trouble was fixing it. At that point we were allowed to leave, and the trouble-shooter said he would do his best to come up with a temporary fix, but the door handle wouldn't be reversed until after the weekend.

By the time we were able to leave, it was ridiculously late and we had to get food at the only place that never closes: The Acrop. Of course, their menu is probably the size of every other campus restaurants' combined, but somehow they managed to whip out both a Chicken Marsala and a roast beef and cheddar Panini in what seemed like 10 minutes. But as long as it's good, I won't question their methods.