Flown the coop

Today, I officially moved into residence on-campus at my university for the first time.  After two years of my parents' persistent denials - okay, one; they refused me residence for first year and for second year time just passed to the point where I thought to myself, well, shit, I guess I'm living at home again - I've packed up my obscenely large wardrobe and carefully selected favourite movies and to-be-read books (that process was brutal) and settled into a two-bedroom apartment-style flat with my roommate (weird, saying "roommate") Steph.

It never really hit me that I moved out.  Sure, a week ago, the stresses of moving began to creep up, but I became so accustomed to the idea through constantly thinking of what I needed to bring and pack and buy that come this morning when I woke up in my own bed for the last time I was nearly unfazed by my relocation.  Now that I'm here, I still haven't become attentive to the gravity of everything; going out to eat at the cafeteria felt like any other school day eating there; the buildings all seem familiar and I'm eager to get back to class.  I think, if ever a time for an emotional breakdown, it'll come when I turn in to bed tonight or wake up in the morning to think to myself, yeah, I live here now.

My parents, on the other hand, have felt it.  My mom was mostly good in the days leading up to today, but sentimentality came over when she'd say things like "I'll miss you at the dinner table" or "in a week you won't be here."  She held it together when moving my stuff in, but when it came time to our goodbyes, I could tell she was fighting back tears.  My aunt later informed me through text message that my mom is an absolute mess (most of my mom's side was at my house today for a family function this afternoon once I was gone) - so just break my heart - and that my grandmother also cried a lot and that whenever someone looks into my empty room it's sad.  I hope that whenever I visit - which, really, might be often, given that I live thirty minutes away and that the months from September to March are packed with almost all family birthdays and major holidays - the "pain" of my not living at home doesn't revisit.

My move-in day was somewhat strenuous.  I'd never done it before so naturally the proceedings being unknown to me gave me a bit of anxiety.  Upon arrival and back-breaking unloading of my two (yeah, we took two) cars, we came to realize the place is a damn dirty MESS.  On the upside, though, the place is pretty big, although the lack of furniture in the living room and ominous echo due to emptiness is less than ideal.  Steph and I spent the better part of the entire afternoon washing every single surface in the place and washing the floors - the amount of dirt on the Swiffer pads was absolutely disgusting - and it didn't help that it was a fairly hot day and that we don't have air conditioning.  Seriously?  We did a damn good job, though:

By the time I exhausted myself I had to tackle my own room, which began looking a bit like this:

And now:

A little bit of Gaga to reside over my bed

..okay, the amount of Gaga in this picture is a bit much, but note the amount of books
that I'm crazy enough to think I'll be able to read on top of going to class.

Naturally.

I'm pretty excited for the upcoming year.  Call me crazy but I truly miss going to class (despite how much I complain about it while in class), and the change of pace and fresh new upcoming courses is somewhat exciting to me.  I'm sure actually living on-campus - and not having to wake up three hours in advance to travel all the way to my school just to attend one class - will be blast.