607.3 miles

The distance from my relatively small town in Indiana to my new home, Villanova University.

To say that I was nervous, moving into college, is a big of an understatement. These moments, my first day of classes, orientation, and so many more were quintessential in my college career.

And so were roommates.

I was put in what they call a converted (FORCED) triple with two random strangers I had never met before in my life. So many thoughts ran through my head as my parents pulled our Honda Odyssey minivan up to my dorm.

"What if they are mean?" "What if they smell bad?" "What if they are drug addicts?"

Or worse, "What if they think I am weird?"

Thank God, I was wrong.

So first off to S and K, thank you for being my freshman year roommates.

I soon found out that the three of us fit together perfectly. We were not identical triplets (although one of us did have an identical twin) but we meshed so well that I immediately knew I had two best friends that would never leave me.

The three of us had very distinct and obvious roles in the lovely room of 230.

Me: The cynical ~cool~ mom

Giphy

K: The innocent studier in denial about her true identity (and will kill me for calling her innocent..)

Giphy

S: The IDGAF about anything softie

Giphy

And somehow it all worked out perfectly.

Thank you for understanding my excessive need for cuddles. I will forever remember our morning snuggles fitting three people in K's twin bed recapping what happened the night before.

Shoutout to your closets for providing some of the best outfits that my sad Midwestern wardrobe could not. Thank you for understanding that sometimes I just would not wear the black very low cut bodysuit (you know the one). But thank you for aggressively screaming at me that I looked beautiful even when I did not feel like it.

I think together we all found out how much boys suck and I hope that my inner mom helped you heal. Whether it was screaming Deep Throat and Harambe at the top of our lungs or making the giant bed on the floor, I tried to show you that you both truly deserve the world and more.

Thank you for explaining to me that those things at the dining halls are not bagels. They are atrocious and an insult.

Thank you for trying to teach me how to twerk and getting mad when I wouldn't even try.

Thank for repeatedly body-slamming me into that one boy at that party. (This is sarcastic, but I still love you)

Thank you for supporting me through the hell that was organic chemistry. You were the first people I wanted to tell when I passed.

K, Philadelphia does not and will never touch the ocean.

Thank you for accepting my obsession with Kesha.

Thank you for understanding that I needed to stress clean at least once a week. Thank you, S, for the mountains of clothes and K, for the excessive amount of boxes. Without those, 230 would not have seemed like home.

Thank you for not freaking out when I showed up with a scrub brush and a vacuum that I had borrowed (without permission) from the cleaning closet.

Thank you for explaining to me that Long Island should really be considered its own state and that NJ is the absolute worst.

Thank you for always being too loud for the girls who lived at the end of the hall. I'm sorry we were obnoxious, but really who goes to bed at 10 PM?

S, I don't think you are capable of ever being Vegetarian...

Thank you for telling everyone we met that I liked "nice boys" but hated love. Like HATES love.

Thank you for tolerating my inability to ever wear pants. (even in the hallways...)

One may think "Wow! That is a lot of thank you's!" But what you don't get it is that it really is not.

These are my people and thanks to them I survived freshmen year.

So thank you, S & K. Thank you for every single Swell water bottle run to the downstairs drinking fountain at 3 AM. (Thank God I recorded them all)

I love you two with all my heart. 230 forever and always.