By:Olivia Werenski ’17/Champlain College News
As my freshman year here at Champlain is coming to an end, there has been a lot of unexpected twists and turns with my experience. I expected there to be some drama, some crying, some angst and some just plain confusion on figuring out how to adapt to a life of freedom to do whatever the heck I want without my mom nagging at me.
First off, there was the first time I ever had to schedule my own classes. That was a mess and a half. One of my classes filled up right before I pressed submit, causing my entire schedule to collapse. In one word: Awful.
On April 1, I probably had one of the most stressful days of my year. This day entailed registering for classes, having two presentations due, my first April fools day with my dedicated prankster of a boyfriend Adam, and the big one: my first housing selection.
I received a small crimson slip of a paper around two weeks before the selection date in my on-campus mailbox, along with pretty much half of my classmates, stuffed like sardines into that teeny tiny box of a mail room. Of course, much like everyone else I knew, I received an “eh” number. 647. Okay. The number 647 will seal my fate for the next year of college.
It determined who I’ll be surrounded by, but more importantly, what size room I’ll have and if it will have a private bathroom (also known as the holy grail of college students).
I walked into the Alumni Auditorium and sat down with my current and future roommate Emily. The auditorium was packed and we could only find seats in the very back row. Melody Brook, the housing director walked up to front of the stage and gave us a talk about how everything works and how everyone will get a house one way or another.
Emily and I then sat as she called out every number from 450 and up. Waiting. Watching everyone flock to the table for Juniper Hall, the hall that we wanted to pick. “We’re going to get stuck with the one we don’t want, I bet,” Emily said with a frown and a tone of being let down.
Soon the auditorium started to clear out and we inched to the front in hopes of rushing to a table first (a tactic in which we realized didn’t matter since we have to be organized by number anyway). Finally she called our number.
We rushed to the front, and I walked up and stood in the line for Juniper as Emily stood in line for one of the brand new dorms named Butler.
I got to the front of the line first by some miracle, and called her over. “Ok guys, so there’s two female double’s left” the housing director said. “SIGN US UP!” we said in unison. We started jumping up and down. The housing selection had been looming over our heads like a dark grey rain cloud ever since we got our cards, and it ended up all working out in the end.
I guess everything really does happen for a reason.