Moving In Day

Today is my first day (aside from tours) on the Culinary Institute of America's, the premier world culinary college, campus. Today also acts as my first day on my own, moving out into the world.

As most nervous college first timers, like myself, would do, I get to the CIA as early as possible, this is after a two day drive of course. I would not recommend it again. I was the third person in line and still felt like I was behind. My father and I were not lucky enough to grab ahold of a magical red cart that makes moving so much easier, especially when you are on the third floor. He and I made numerous trips to the car and back, carrying heavy loads up three sets of stairs to a tiny dorm then back again. I have many bruises still on my body to prove this adventure. When our last load consisted of the grand T.V and refrigerator, my father stumbled on the brilliant idea of putting our name on the waiting list of one of these magical red carts (one man was bribed $25 for his). This made the last load a breeze, I suggest you bring one from home yourself.

As our cars finally resembled cars again, my father rest and I unpacked. Trying to find a place in a tiny room for all my unnecessary equipment actually calmed me down; it was like I had the ability to step outside my self, look down from a bird's eye view, and put my new life together in a way I saw fit and organized, instead of hoping everything would fall into place. Everything passed my expectation and me and my roommate joined the dorm building meeting as my father, bless his heart, went to the grocery store for things I had forgot to pack. This is another thing I recommend. With the technology we have today, try to meet your roommate ahead of time. We found each other on facebook, learned each others interests, negotiated the room supplies, and learned each other's name (which ironically happens to be the same as my own).

We commenced on a tour, our tour guide was as bubbly and informative as could be, and me and my roommate tagged along behind, meeting people as we did. However, walking around the big campus, up and down three to four stories was not what my poor body needed. Moving in and touring were the death of my muscles that night. When Katelyn and I returned my father and her mother and finished everything that she and I did not get around to, which I appreciate more than anything, and my father and I went out to our last Father-Daughter dinner.

That night I didn't sleep well, nor relax my muscles in pain. I felt like it was the first day of summer camp but I had to keep reminding myself that I would not get picked up in a week. This was my new home, my new start, my clean slate. I didn't know if I was terrorized or ecstatic.