When I first arrived at college as a little baby freshman, something that I heard time and time again from upperclassmen was that my floormates and I were going to get incredibly close. At Tulane, the notoriously social freshman dorms Sharp and Monroe are coveted homes because of this promise of immediate closeness. I was lucky enough to get placed in Monroe, with a floor full of legends who I am now lucky enough to call my best friends.
In early September, when I was just starting to settle in at Tulane, I was at lunch with my cousin who was starting his senior year. I was lamenting being separated from my friend group from home. I had an extremely tight-knit group of friends that I had spent virtually everyday of that summer with, and to say I was having separation anxiety from them was an understatement. At that time, I was so positive that I would never have closer friends than them and that I would never be as happy as I was when we were all together.
As I was in the middle of melodramatically explaining to my cousin that my life was just so terribly tragic because I had to leave them, he shared some wisdom with me that would be proven to be an absolute truth over the next semester. He told me that living with people has a huge effect on how friendships form that you can’t really understand until you experience it. He said that as close and I was with my friends from home, I would be three times closer with the people on my floor in about a month. And, as I’m sure you’ve gathered by now, he was undeniably correct.
I have spent this year living on the ninth floor of Monroe, or "Mo 9," as it’s called. Mo 9 has many glorious characteristics, like the eternally sticky floor in front of the elevator, all of the mysterious carpet stains, the water fountain with more water pressure than the showers and the fact that the boys' side always smells just a little bit like Bourbon Street. However, one attribute that the ninth floor is lacking is a common room.
According to upperclassmen, common rooms are the magical places where all of the bonding happens, so, as you can imagine, all of us eager Mo 9 residents were a little bummed when we found out we didn’t have one on our floor. We decided to remedy this by having approximately 30 people cram into one dorm room on one of the first nights so that we could all get to know each other. We smushed in and played a great big game of Never Have I Ever, because, let’s face it, there is no better way to become acquainted with people.
As the weeks went on, our different friend groups within the hall started to form because Monroe dorm rooms are not so conducive to 30 person get-togethers. Before I knew it, I ended up having nine of the best friends that I’ve ever had in my life. In luck of the draw, I won my wonderful roommate, four southern gentlemen, three other frat bros, and one TEMS member who provides a voice of reason that our group often needs.
Since we all live together, we got to see each other in every situation that life threw at us. That obviously caused us to quickly get very comfortable with each other. It’s unfathomable to me that I’ve only known these people for eight months of my life because of how comfortable I am with them. In these eight months, we’ve all seen each other at our most composed and our most disheveled. We’ve done the things that all close floormates do for each other: We’ve all taken care of each other and helped each other bounce back from bad decisions that freshman inevitably make. We’ve slept on each other’s floors and met each other’s friends from home. We’ve pulled all-nighters together for both work and play. We’ve made sure to take a video when one of us gets his frocket ripped off of his shirt in a fight over what someone’s first name is so that the moment can be saved and laughed at for months-–oh wait, that one only happens on Mo 9? My bad.
Overall, we all arrived on our hall one day, not knowing what to expect, and then we ended up with a family. These people have truly shaped the start of my college experience and I am so saddened by the thought that they won’t be right down the hall from me next year. Although I’m slightly in denial about it, I know that things won’t be exactly the same next year when we’re all dispersed around campus.
I’ll really miss the boys walking down to my room to ask my roommate and I questions that really should be for mothers instead of 18-year-old girls, and begging us for any food we have when they’re too lazy to go buy something. I’ll miss having a booming amateur hairdressing career when the boys show up in my room with scissors and ask me to cut their hair because they don’t want to pay for a proper haircut. I’ll miss everything about the convenience of having my best friends 20 steps away from me, but I’m holding out hope that the group chat will still be poppin’ everyday and we’ll be able to stay just as close. So PSA to you all: if you think that I’m not going to show up at your doors next semester almost as much as I do now, you’re dead wrong. You’re all worth the walk.
