Monday, December 14, 2009

The College Survival Gift

It's official. I de-friended the bar on Facebook. Not a person, not anyone affiliated with the bar, but the actual bar. It has a page and I am no longer linked to it. AND, I unsubscribed to the mailing list for the entire bar group. And I feel great about this. Every time I received one of those "Come to BS for our amazing party!" messages, it made me sad. And angry. And a little bit more loser-ish. (And I don't think I need to explain why I am calling the bar "BS." I could call it "FU," but I feel as though that would be distracting.)

Anyway, this step in the moving-on process may not be revolutionary to anyone else, but I have never shortened my Facebook friend list before. In fact, I waited until this same brave day to even block my stalker from college. Which, I'm sure also seems like an obvious choice to anyone else. BUT, I didn't want to start any online hysteria. I think he's a lot better at computers than I am and the idea of hacking scares the crap out of me. Not that I think he would do this. Using your parents to repeatedly drive you to your intended target's place of work barely counts as stalking, but whatever. Without any concept of personal space or social rules and norms, it seems best to stay away. The whole ordeal in college ended at the restaurant where I worked, when said stalker backed me into the ice machine and my manager had to ask him to leave. Why you would then try to friend someone a few years later without any contact, and after THREE previous friend request denials is beyond me. But so is backing someone into an ice machine.

So it was a big Facebook day for me. And a few steps in the right direction. In the spirit of moving forward, I want to share the College Survival gift. Which started with a few presents I received for my high school graduation. I went to college in the same town where I went to high school, but I was determined to make this a separate life. To that end, I lived in the dorms my freshman year and I didn't even go home until Thanksgiving. Most of my high school friends had graduated the year before me, and almost all had lived in a dorm that year too. So when it came time for my graduation party, I received lots of crazy useful gifts that I didn't even know the practical extent of until that fall. And then I thought, "I have genius friends."

Eight years later, my brother graduated high school. Yes, we are that far apart, and no, it was not an accident. To prepare my brother for his dorm life, I took elements of all those genius gifts I received and made a College Survival care package for him. This kit included a box of dryer sheets and a roll of quarters for laundry, (which my mom had to teach him to do RIGHT BEFORE HE LEFT,) shower shoes to avoid athlete's foot or puke in the shower, Band-Aids because they aren't just there in your parents' cabinet anymore, Q-tips for the same reason, a dry erase board with marker for the quintessential dorm door, and a card that featured one of my favorite artists so he could post it on his wall.

I am pretty sure he found these to be useful since they were all gone by the time I even saw the dorm room. Except the shower shoes and dry erase board, which were securely in place. (My brother keeps his shoes in specific places. I told you he is much neater than me. I keep my shoes wherever I take them off. And I often trip over them.) The best part of the College Survival gift is that you get to be a genius. Upon receiving the kit, the recipient thinks, "How totally random." And then, just days into the college experience, they think, "How did they know?" It is a connection between those of us who have lived in a dorm before and those that are about to try it out. It is the convergence of experience and newness. It is moving on with a helping hand.

I kind of wish I had shower shoes for the life after BS.

No comments:

Post a Comment