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Page 12 text:
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On a hot, humid August day, nothing could be worse than Restlessly sleeping, dreaming of making the Dean's list while at the same time enjoying a seemingly endless party, my visions were rudely interrupted by the obnoxious buzzing of an alarm clock. The buzzing continued for quite a long time: I could not seem to find the clock beneath the mountains of clothing, books, albums and food which were carelessly thrown into a pile to be packed and shipped out along with me and my brain, or what was left of it. At last I saw it. a small white clock vibrating beneath a box of Twinkies and a pair of shorts. Impatiently I put the alarm clock out of its misery, while at the same time, accidentally smashing the box of Twinkies. Oh well, I thought to myself. I'll let my little brother feed them to the swans: they'll eat anything, even cafeteria food. It took me a long time to realize that today was moving-in day. a day of mass confusion and new experiences. When I finally did realize it. I began to sweat so heavily that I probabaly could have swum out of bed. I wasn't sure if I was sweating because I was nervous or excited or just because it happened to be 90 degrees outside already. I decided to take a shower; it was to be my last one without having showers screamed at me every time someone flushed a toilet. The shower did little, if any. good because the humidity was so high that I was just as wet out of the shower as I was in it. My stomach growled as I ran downstairs to eat my last breakfast without having to wait in line for orange juice or having to sit on the English muffins to warm them up. Following breakfast. I went back to my room to get dressed. This I could do without having to pull the shade down in case someone decided to get out a pair of binoculars. Oh. the luxuries we so often take for granted. One quickly becomes aware of many of them while attending college. With much help from my family, especially my overly organized mother, who kept reminding me over and over again to pack a toothbrush and deodorant. I finally completed the difficult task of packing for college. My Dad went a bit too far when he rented three (J-hauls after seeing all the things I had packed. I was a Pausing for a breather, Chris Soares tekes a break from moving a friend's belongings into Burrowes Hall. Students filled trucks, vans, ears and even (J-hauls when they returned to the campus in August.—Pholo by Darrin Mann little upset and yelled at him for doing that. I told him he was being ridiculous and knew darn well I only needed two (J-hauls. Working meticulously, we managed to squeeze all of my belongings into only one Cl-haul. Boy. was I proud of myself. I said goodbye to my bed and we took off on an unforgettable trip. It might have been a less memorable experience if it weren't for the fact that we had such terrible traffic as we neared Millersville. Upon exiting Route 30. we came to a screeching halt and found ourselves bumper to bumper with an array of automobiles. We slowly inched our way to the campus following a car stuffed with boxes of clothing, sports equipment and a lone teddy bear peeking worriedly out the window. When we reached PennSupreme. we found a fluorescent orange detour sign in front of North George Street. The street had been transformed into a bumpy dirt road. The detour signs did nothing but cause mass confusion for those newcomers of the college. After what seemed a very long period of time, we weeded our way through parking lots and found a parking spot near the dorm in which I was to live in this semester. Piles of clothing, luggage and fresh sheets clut tering the bed is a sure sign that someone is .. moving in.—Photo by Ben Krolhc Finding the correct dorm was a task in itself. as it seems the dorms are labeled so that no one can determine which one is which from any of the parking lots. As I entered the dorm to check in and get my room assignment. I was told that the reason for the terrible traffic was that 2.735 undergraduates were arriving to live In the 8 Movlng In
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Page 13 text:
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dormitories. As there are only 11 dormitories. approximately 130 students would have to live in rooms that were not designed for occupancy. After climbing seven flights of steps and tripping over various items in the hallway. I found my room, along with someone in it. This someone was my new roommate. Our room, as I found it. would win no award for originality, it contained two beds, two desks, one closet, and one dresser. All of this was topped off with off-white cinder block walls and one window overlooking the scenic parking lot. As I gazed out the window, trying to get a breath of fresh air. I saw my family impatiently waiting for the (J-haul. I ran down the steps, because the elevator was out of order, and began the long, hot chore of moving in. My Dad complained continuously about how much junk I had. He shut up. however, when on the stairway we passed a four foot refrigerator that seemed to be walking up the steps, a huge peacock wicker chair, and a stereo system that looked like the one the Rolling Stones might use. We saw boxes of record albums, plants, stuffed animals, sweatshirts. Jeans, mun-chies. and here and there a pencil and notebook. Poor Dad carried my bike all the way up seven flights of steps and then was told about the bike rack in the basement. I controlled my chuckle as he struggled to carry it down to the basement. Meanwhile my Mom had disappeared into the bathroom, seen goldfish in the sink, and passed out cold. She gradually revived but proceeded to fall asleep on my bed. While I was waiting for Dad to come back from the basement, I had a chance to ob serve other students moving in. I was amazed at the variety of people I saw. Some students had entire families to help them move in while other students had only themselves and ran endlessly up and down the steps unloading their possessions. I looked down and saw Dad wearily climbing the steps and together we went and loaded up for our last trip upstairs. Mom finally woke up only in time to say goodbye. Mom cried and Dad rolled his eyes. I sighed in a mixture of relief and exhaustion. I watched them leave through my window, feeling very much alone. The (J-haul disappeared in the distance and I turned from the window to find a new home for all my belongings. Moving in requires not only a relocation of one's belongings but also an adjustment to the new environment. As I unpacked my things. I discovered that I had forgotten to pack a toothbrush and deodorant. Sorry Mom—I'd write a letter home and tell her: she'd understand. Maybe I'd even tell her that my roommate was the one who had the goldfish in the sink. Becky Moyer Trying to find space in her already filled closet, junior Carol Stine finishes unpacking her clothes.—Photo by Ben Krothe Moving in was made a little easier when there was someone to help out. Here Ray Carnevalino gets help moving his things into Diehm Hall from Steve Ward.—Photo by Darrin Mann Moving In 9
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