My sophomore year, I got to live in Mary Gaston*, the "new" dorm (it smelled less like burned popcorn than the other dorms). I started out in a room on the second floor with three roommates.
I don't remember any of them.
They would get up before light bell and listen to the radio. It was awful. I was totally trying to sleep and these girls were listening to WBJU or WMUU or who knows. The lights weren't even on in the hall. You couldn't talk in the hall and they had the radio on?
One day I noticed a room down the hall that only had two names on the door (we put our names on the door, sometimes on really cute signs or something). I looked at it in passing for a few days and then went to the dorm supervisor and asked to be moved into the room.
Thank God she let me.
My new roommates were Tamara and another girl whose name I can't remember. She was finishing school in December and apparently was from so rural a place that she'd run to the window when we heard sirens to see the lights of the ambulance or fire truck or whatever (Mary Gaston was close to Wade Hampton Blvd. (or maybe it was the other one, 291, or now that I've looked at the map, Pleasantburg), but REST EASY, there was a fence between us and them).
After Christmas, we got a new APC, Adela. We were now the multicultural room: I'm white, Tamara black, and Adela Hispanic. I made a sign for the door that said: The United Colors of Benetton (cut from a magazine) welcomes you to The Multicultural Room and had a picture of the three of us on it.
Also, around Valentine's Day, we (alright, who am I kidding, it was all me) covered the door with paper and divided it in half. One side was "things we love" and the other was "things we hate." We had to take it down because we had Shannen Doherty on the "hate" side.
Hey. It was 1994.
But, it was a name. Apparently it didn't matter that she was not a person at the school, that she was a celebrity that everyone hated. That's what I remember the objection being, that there were names on the lists.
Oh duh. I get it now. It was a pop culture reference. That's what was wrong with it.
That room, that second semester, was probably best room I had. Last summer Tamara and her husband were up in New England and we ate lobsters together. She was as funny and genuine as I remembered.
*holy cow. I was just there linking up and that picture of the dorm room is a place that hasn't changed in 15 years. Gag. I can practically smell the excessive perfume, hairspray, burned popcorn, and legalism from here. The rooms I lived in were slightly better decorated, but just barely.