At the end of freshman year everyone had to scramble for housing for the next year. Our options were to take our chances on the housing lottery, choose to live in the foreign language housing, choose to live at Dillard, or live off campus on our own. Meredith and most of my friends chose the language houses. They wanted a sure thing. There was no way I was going to live with my freshman roommate again so I found a new roommate on my freshman hall. Her name was Kristie and she had also had a crummy roommate the first time around. We took our chances with the lottery. We ended up with a pretty decent number and chose to live in another all-girls dorm on the old campus. We chose a room on the basement floor closest to the lounge and laundry and farthest from the phone. The next year they put phones in our rooms anyway.

So other than Kristie, I was isolated from all the friends I’d made freshman year. I lived on old campus and they lived on new campus. While they built on their friendships I became the odd man out. I didn’t help my case by gabbing about my new boyfriend all the time. I tried to stay in touch with everyone and do things with them, but it took considerably more effort than it had before. As I read my journals from those days I realize that I actually did a lot more going out with friends than I’d remembered. Mike would come by with his friend Terrance and we’d go do things. I had a class with my high school friend and Ms. India, so I saw them twice a week at least. Reading back in my journals it seems like my high school friend spent most of that semester miffed at me. So, I was alone and lonely a lot.

The one new development was that I started working on campus. I was assigned to work in the technology department of Swem library. My duties were showing films for professors in their classes, answering phones in the office and scheduling the showings on the office computer as the requests came in. The man I worked for was pretty cool. He was a bit of a ladies man but he never made me uncomfortable. His wife worked in the library too. Since I was free most nights I volunteered to show a lot of films. If we worked at night we got paid time and a half. I’d even call Kristie to come join me if the nighttime films looked like they were going to be good. Of course the first time I ever went out on a projection job the projector didn’t work right. After that experience my job always carried the thrill of danger. Will the sound work? Will the bulb go out? Will I have a professor berating me while a classroom full of students gawks?

The coolest thing about my job was how my boss would pad our paychecks. He was a hero to the working wo(man). It’s not like we made much anyway. I’d be expecting $97 and I’d get $113. That kind of padding. He took care of us and we knocked ourselves out for him.

When I chose to live with Kristie I chose well. She was a good roommate for me. She had a lot of patience for my bullshit and she was smart as hell. She was the best proof-reader I ever had. She’d gone to an all-girls Catholic school and was and avid gymnast. During freshman year she was actually on the Cheerleading squad. She ended up quitting that; I think the politics of it drug her down. She then joined the dance team. I remember her drying rack with her leotards and crap were always in the floor. I didn’t mind, I thought it was all pretty neat. We were good companions; we ate meals together a lot and did other things. We were roommates who were actually friends.

For most of the first semester I was pretty broody. I was always dwelling on Don back home. True to his word the letters started arriving right away. He wrote several times a week. I probably went to the post office three times a day. (This was before email, kids) We talked on the phone a lot. My life was either waiting for his calls or lamenting missed calls. He nearly blew it by waiting several weeks before coming to see me. His brother and sister-in-law made huge demands on his time and they often won at that point. When he did finally come see me I was ecstatic. Finally, I had proof for my friends that I had a real boyfriend! ;)

That fall I saw him a couple of times at school and he came to get me to bring me home a couple of times. One time I got in trouble with Noni and Popi because he came and got me and brought me back to his house (his parent’s house) for the weekend and I didn’t tell Noni I was in town. Yeah, that didn’t go down too well. I thought it would be nice to have a weekend where I wasn’t splitting my time, but it was hurtful to them and they didn’t think it was a good idea at all.

My relationship with Don created a strain with my family. For the first time I was pushing my limits with them. I’d always been the good girl in high school. They didn’t worry about me getting into trouble, sneaking out, or causing them huge embarrassment. But with Don I started to push it. I stayed out late (I was 19), opted out of family time to be with him and was generally very selfish. They didn’t care all that much for Don. First, because he had stood me up at the beginning and they saw how it had laid me low. Second, because he continued to disrespect me by turning up late to see me. Like 45 minutes to an hour and a half late. It used to infuriate me because he’s the one who set the time, not me. Anyway, while they took pains to be kind to him, I don’t think they really liked him all that much. If I were in their position, I wouldn’t have either.

So, while we were growing more attached I was also changing. When I was with him I was a different person. I wasn’t me at all. I pretty much let him call the shots and walk all over me. It’s not like this is a new phenomenon. Fat girl finally gets a boy, will do anything to keep him. I did fall in love with him and he fell in love with me. That much is true. We grew closer over the fall months. I was blinded by love, or as Noni kindly puts it, I had on rose colored glasses.

The funny thing is that it wasn’t like I couldn’t see it. I read my journals from that time and I’d spend my weeks missing him, but arguing with myself over whether I should stay with him. I knew he wasn’t treating me right, I knew he was often irrational and he always talked about himself and never listened to me. But when I saw him again all my doubts would wash away. He’d tell me he loved me, that I was beautiful, that he needed me, all the stuff I needed to hear.

When I’m perfectly honest with myself (you can skip this part, Popi) it was the physical chemistry that drove the relationship. I was a good and virtuous girl for a long time, as these things go, but I wasn’t superhuman. Now I know why you’re not supposed to have sex before marriage. It’s not just that it’s a sin in the eyes of God; it’s playing with fire. The risk is that you’ll like it (a lot!) and then your judgment and decision making will be clouded by the desire for more. And in a nutshell, that’s what happened to me.

To be continued…

From spring of sophomore year. One of my favorite photos because it's the skinniest I've ever been caught on film.


My humble abode that year. More homey, less beefcake.


Beefcake not completely gone, you can see some by the upper bunk, where I slept. You can also see the drying rack.



I've also added a couple of photos to the freshman post. You can see those here.

Labels: college years