With the bed sheet dilemma taken care of, I figured that outside of finding a little money to fund my education, getting a few shots and reading about Darwin, there was little else I needed to worry about. Wrong (now, that’s a first)! It turns out that if I plan on making my dorm room look the way that the media advertises that it should, I had better get started with my shopping.
Though I have sheets to sleep between, (no confirmation about a bed to sleep on just yet), I still don’t have anything to use to transport my dirty laundry, organize my shoes or change the way I smell after an 8 mile run. But while my situation has yet to cause me any sleepless nights, up until yesterday afternoon it was becoming a growing concern.
Enter: the mailwoman; bounding down my street like Pheidippides, arms pumping wildly, miles of momentum driving her forward through the haze atop the hill and into view. The closer she got, the more clearly I could see the pained expression spreading quickly across her face; her bloodshot eyes, chapping lips and sun-burnt appearance reflecting the importance and urgency of the document that she carried.
After what seemed like an eternity, she collapsed at the base of my driveway, mumbling something in ancient Greek before handing me the Walmart “Off to College” brochure. Nearly in shock at the gravity of the information passed on to me, I commenced a short but jubilant sprint back to my air-conditioned house, finally assured that I wouldn’t smell like a lost and worn-out gym shoe during my first weeks of college, while the mailwoman gallantly finished off her historic journey at the base of my driveway.
I might be exaggerating.
Regardless, the importance of the subject matter is what requires such a dramatic introductory anecdote. Being that we freshmen-to-be have been spending much of our summer stressing out about finding ways to pay for books and Chicago-based fun, acquiring student loans, and keeping up with the slew of forms and applications, it seems to me that buying supplies is the least stressful of all the necessary preparations. While for some it may be too early to begin stockpiling on extra underwear and Post-It notes, those of us required to arrive on campus early need a head start; besides, for everyone else, this just affords the opportunity to keep a steady eye on the sale racks.
That having been said, considering my need to be on campus early, I’ve been scouring over brochures, like the one I received yesterday, with an effort so resolute that I would be much better off spending it analyzing student loan forms. But that’s neither here nor there. The point is, my habitual procrastination has paid off; I have discovered, practiced and honed my dorm room shopping techniques all by looking through a few brochures. So I’ll lay it all out for you right here, right now:
STEP ONE: IF YOU CAN’T BE AT ‘EM, JOIN ‘EM
According to the catalogues and brochures, collegiate happiness stems from physical attractiveness- or, as Derek Zoolander puts it, “being really, really, ridiculously, good-looking.” With that established, immediately upon your arrival to campus — be it at the beginning of August or mid-September — I urge you all to find “good-looking” people and become friends with them; stalk them if you must. And, since attractive people tend to migrate towards other people of similar physical beauty, it will be easy to amass friends and be well on the way to a great four years of brochure-bliss. You do want to be happy, don’t you?
STEP TWO: DON’T HESITATE TO DECORATE
Since there still are a few weeks before anyone heads to Evanston to befriend the cream of Northwestern’s “good-looking” crop, and no one wants to start their required reading, we need something urgent and important with which to keep ourselves busy. So, what to do? Go shopping; I recommend hitting up the funky, “loud” bed comforters first, before all the “decorative” ones sell out. Once you have found one to suit your inner Christian Siriano, find three or twelve pillows to match. Don’t forget to grab some “Art XPRESS Wall-Decals” on your way out; I plan on buying the ones that resemble hard-core motorcycle-type tattoos, as advertised in Bed, Bath, and Beyond’s catalogue. After all, why use them to decorate your body when your dorm room walls will do the designs much more justice?
However, for those whose thinking is backwards on this matter, or for those who are simply less ambitious, may I point you in the direction of the “wash-cloth banner,” complements of Target. It is what it is, but I recommend that it be used to display only clean washcloths and I’m sure your roommate will agree with me on that.
STEP THREE: GET COOKING
Or not. Though I have yet to try the recipes for “Gushi Sushi” and “Hip Chex”, and probably never will unless one of you convinces me otherwise, their components leave me wondering how that marketing meeting at the Target headquarters went down, exactly . Perhaps their efforts will force me to stand corrected about my opinions; maybe I’ll find that Northwestern students gather together to snack on crushed up candy bars rolled sushi-style between chewing gum or exchange witty banter around a big bowl of microwaved Chex mix and Coke zero, garnished, of course, with cheese and beef jerky.
I mean, I could be wrong; and if I am, grab your most attractive friends, a few extra pillows, and hunt down that illegitimate microwave for some “hip” and “gushi” fun.
(On an honest note) Best of luck with all your dorm room preparations!
Next week: the pros and pitfalls of random Facebook friending.
Hallie