Monday, June 29, 2009

The Garret and finding your pole.

Seem odd? Allow me to elaborate.

My surroundings:
For some reason, there appears to be a black cloud above my name. The Senior RAs and our Residential Dean all like me, I just attract bad juju. Why? Well. First, my dorm room (or the Garret as I prefer to call it) is teensytiny (or cozy if this were a room you were trying to pawn off on someone).  So much that even Patrick, the aforementioned Residential Dean remarked "you get the sneaking suspicion that this room began its life as a mop closet.  It's MAYBE 8 x 8 (imagine standing in a central spot and reaching almost everything in your room.) Seriously guys. It's a glorified cell. Now I realize I have been spoiled at TU but this is downright cruel! To add the cherry on the sundae, guess who has 18 residents and 5 different classes to get them to? That's right. Yours truly. Now that you have a visual, allow me to tell you about the past two CRAZY days.

Kids move in. What does this mean? chaos. Pure, unadulterated chaos. For the math inclined, an equation: 

27 RAs + 380 "talented youths" + 600 (overbearing, domineering, I-am-right-you-are-wrong, misguided, direction ignoring, walk-in-the-road-ignoring-traffic) family members + 80 or so other adult staff members+ time - patience = CHAOS IN ITS PUREST FORM

Don't get me wrong. Parents are great. love em. But seriously. Your Mercedes is not SPECIAL. It does not get to park closer than the other cars. Unless you are handicapped, your Mercedes can chill with the rest of the "not-special-enough-for-other-parking" cars in the pre-assigned spot. I love people moving and walking around. BUT FOR THE LOVE OF LIFE, GET OUT OF THE ROAD. Seriously. I was on directions and parking duty for most of the morning/afternoon (Subway for lunch at 10 am. haha). And people seem to have a death wish. Your child is TALENTED, PROTECT THAT TALENT AND GET THE HECK OUT OF THE ROAD. Finally (and there is not enough emphasis to add to that Finally), we seemed to successfully corral parents to their auditorium and students to their halls. Next issue. What to do with 10 girls when 8 are testing? Funny you should ask. My solution? Give them hall free time to move in and bond on their own before watching She's the Man in a cramped but surprisingly comfy room (clearly, not the Garret). Summary of my hall: They are (thus far) amazing. They listen. They question. They chitchat. They shut up when they're supposed to. They are altogether adorable. Right now. This may change but I hope they only get more fun! But Sunday night was Q&A GALORE. Ridiculous but necessary questions. Questions that had been answered but they hadn't heard/listened (they're great. I didn't say they're perfect.) We managed to make it to dinner and back (fighting the zoo of limbs and the people attached to those limbs) with enough time to do a HALL BONDING EXERCISE! yay! We bonded, we itched (from the grass), we giggled at bunnies, and then off to required events! yay! (RA enthusiasm creeping into regular conversations). Finished that then off to UBER SUPER LONG meeting where my hall giggled at my use of the phrase "sketch." (They are to avoid Sketchy Dude and Sketchy Dudette and stay on campus out of Sketchville. gotta love it.)

GLORIOUS *though not nearly enough* sleep!

The poles. Oh the poles. Basically, for every class and then activity, there is an assigned pole. Easy enough, right? not. Kids form large, rowdy packs that overrun the paths and block poles and get in the way! With 18 kids, getting to the poles is an ABSOLUTE NIGHTMARE. Thus, my most used phrase "Make sure you know where your pole is! Find the right pole! Remember your class' pole". 

I could write more. But I can't. my brain is shutting down. Typos abound. I almost said 'right' instead of write. goodnight!

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