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Fall semester of my Sophomore year of college really flew by, and when I think back to it, many of my best memories from the start of the semester fall within one person: Emily. Before this semester we were never close (or even really friends, sorry but you know it’s true). Emily was just another person that attended the boring floor meetings our freshman year, who not only rolled in late, but rolled her eyes throughout the whole thing too. All I knew was neither of us wanted to be there but I never expected to someday to be her friend, let alone her roommate.

Emily and I both have jobs on campus that required us to move back to school earlier than the rest of the people living in our house. Within one hour of us both being back on campus we got locked out of house. RPS was closed and we couldn’t find any RAs, so out of desperation we called Public Safety to help us out—great start to the semester, huh? That wasn’t the worst of the first night, though. Nope, not at all. The biggest pitfall of moving back to MCLA early is the atrocious fact that they do not open the dining hall until the night everyone moves back to campus. Neither of us brought any food to get us through the day or night (similarity #1: we are never prepared). Our only option was to order out, but doing so was a total catastrophe. It started off with Emily not knowing what to order, but once she finally decided on her order, her card didn’t work. There was money on it; we checked three times, but the restaurant called back three times to tell her she was wrong. So, we ordered it all on my card, no big deal, we were starving and just wanted our food already. We waited about an hour and a half for the sweet sound of knocking on our front door. It was finally there. We tipped them said thank you and I (tried) to close the door nicely but instead shut it on the delivery guy’s arm (oops). My food was fine, it was the same thing I usually ordered from there so I knew I was safe. Emily on the other hand ordered something neither of us has ever gotten from there, and I don’t know what exactly she was given but it looked like rats on a stick.

We also both love showers—we bought a shower curtain… but didn’t bring shower curtain rings. To top it all off this wasn’t even the worst of our start in TH81, it only got worse.

Flash forward to September 5th—yes, September 5th, when the semester hasn’t even begun yet. Some of you have heard this story so I will sum it up to two words: Haunted Sloth.  If you haven’t heard the story, we (I) had a stuffed sloth who we all once loved (last year) that somehow, some way, became haunted over time. Moving itself from one side of our bay window to the other and knocking on my closet door. Why? Well… we blame April. She’s our ghost. I’m typing this in my room though (where April LOVES to hide out) so I’ll just leave it at that.

Flash forward to spring semester of Sophomore year, I still live in the room but now as a premium single and Emily lives in a single upstairs. It’s great to have a king size bed again and a space to call my own, but I will miss Emily and our talks, our laughs, our frights, and throwing things at each other from across the room during Fall semester. She was the type of roommate who knew when I was having a bad day and knew to either leave me alone or ask what’s going on. I never had to tell her what was up, she just kind of sensed it. Likely because we usually had bad days and weeks at the same time. In the middle of the night I could say “Emilyyy, are you up?” and chances are she is laying on her bed staring at her phone or her laptop doing late last minute homework or binge watching some TV show (probably Jerry springer, PLL, Riverdale, need I continue?). Overall, I’m gonna miss her but I’m fortunate to still live in the same house as her to still be able to drive each other crazy when needed or wanted.


Meghan is a sophomore who majors in Psychology with a minor in behavior analysis. She is one of the two campus correspondents of the MCLA chapter. Writing has become first nature for her- it's like riding a bike into paradise. She primarily writes about love with the hope to become the female version of Nicholas Sparks someday.
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