received a sticker to put on the lower left windshield of Dinosaur and two sheets of neon orange paper (one for Dinosaur, one for my parent’s car) that would enable us to get past security and move everything into my new apartment.
After I rejoined my parents and Hayley at the tent, we walked back to the parking lot, climbed into our cars, and followed the directions to Chatham Square.
I was the first of the roommates to arrive. Up on the third floor, in a building at the back of the complex, I wandered through the rooms and, at my mother’s encouragement, chose the one with the biggest closet. Then I began the many trips back and forth, up and down the stairs, carrying large plastic bins, paper bags, and an assortment of containers. For the most part, I just stacked everything up in the room to be put away later.
22301 was a nice little apartment — much more than I had been expecting from the pictures and videos. You walked in the door, and immediately to the left was Jenni and Leah’s bathroom, which then led to their bedroom. A step farther brought you to a desk where the internet cables were set up. The spacious kitchen, complete with a double sink, dishwasher, stove, oven, fridge, and pantry, was on the right, with a dinner table close by. Our sizeable living room was on the left, furnished with a couch and chairs, a coffee table, and a smaller table where we’d put someone’s TV. Part of the room behind the living room furniture looked as if the architects had thought about putting in a balcony, then changed their minds. We weren’t quite sure what to do with that space, and it came to be referred to as our useless nook. Then at the far end of the room was the bedroom, bathroom, and closet that I’d share with Paige.
When the other girls arrived, I helped carry in their things while our parents chatted in the kitchen. Finally, when everything had been moved in (I thought I had brought a lot, but Leah arrived with a U-Haul trailer in tow; admittedly, though, she did drive a Bug), we sat down on the couch and took our first roommate picture.
After our parents, with many hugs, had dispersed, we began to unpack and get to know one another a bit before walking over to the Commons for our first housing meeting which was, as per usual with these kinds of things, rather dull. There were grand efforts to make it entertaining , and the guy from Housing almost succeeded in keeping our attention for most of it. From stories about a linebacker tackling a roommate who pulled a prank on him involving a fake sword to the cheesy videos informing us of the different services offered by the complexes, he did manage to elicit a few peals of laughter from the crowd.
As soon as he left, the monotonous listing of rules began, and my interest plummeted. Despite the decorations shown hanging on apartment walls in the ePresentation video, the only thing you can hang are corkboards (and only the corkboards provided for you). You can’t open the windows. You must wear your ID at all times, and if you don’t have it, good luck getting into the complex. You can’t sleep in someone else’s apartment. You can’t drink if you’re underage. You can’t smoke in the apartment. And so forth.
Every few months, Housing would inspect the apartments for cleanliness. They would post the inspection date for your apartment building on a sign by the bus stop and at the security gate. At some unspecified time during that day, you’d hear a knock on your door. If you sleep through the knock, or don’t hear it because you’re in the shower, you’d hear a loud whistle and the sound of your door being unlocked as a team of three inspectors enter the apartment and begin to check bathrooms, trash cans, sinks, walls, carpets — anything you can mess up, they’ll check it, and if they find particularly egregious infractions of the rules, they’ll photograph them as evidence. If your apartment fails the inspection, Disney will deduct