Miller. A word used by seven floors of girls daily, and by all other associates of LSU at least once a year. That line says it all, only the girls of Miller really know what goes on in the "Miller Mansion."
For those that don't know of the infamous Miller, it is an all-girls residence hall trapped in the '60s on the east side of LSU's campus, more formally known as Joan C. Miller Hall. It's one of the most historical halls on campus, with literally every woman from Shreveport who knew that I was going to LSU asking me if I would live there. They would woo about Miller and how it was the closest dorm to Sorority Row. I was still set on another dorm that was nicer, but my roommate got the room first, and Miller Hall it was. The only thing I really knew about Miller coming into it is that it's all girls, it's old, and there's a "whore door," a door where girls always sneaked guys out at night in the past. Now that thing just calls the police when it's opened and that's no bueno.
My roommate Heather and I were good friends in middle school and stayed friends although we went to different high schools. When we decided to room together, I don't think either of us knew what we were getting into, and I mean it!
I remember the first week of moving into Miller I considered having a long cry for some catharsis. The thoughts running through my head, along with all the other girls that didn't have the one-up of going to an all-girls high school, were these: I'm going to live with ALL girls and be around ALL girls ALL the time with my sorority, too?! What in the world was I getting myself into?!
As time passed, I found myself getting more used to the swing of things as Heather and I got our rooms a little more homey and when I realized what a God-sent gift it was to have the bathroom door right across the hall from us.
I'll be honest, the bathrooms in Miller are pretty dingy. There are stalls with awkwardly placed toilets, showers that have such low pressure that they can hit a newborn's crown directly and trashcans that are used for, as the flyers say, "for bathroom trash ONLY," but usually there's a few Cup Noodles in there, too (since we're all too lazy to make the trek to the other side of the hall).
Going in for showers are either your down time to relax in hot water, or your gossip time. Gossip time is the BEST because by that I mean that being girls, yes, we all shower at the same time so we can exchange the 411 about what happened the night before or whatever other girly things we can think of talking about while we lather with our colorful loofas. Every now and then you come close to REALLY hurting your tailbone while you're in there since shower shoes are a must. I'll be honest, shower shoes just suck. They really do. But you know what sucks more? Some nasty infection on your feet that you'll get the night before Semi if you don't wear your flippy-floppies. I'm warning you now, people.
Along with the bathrooms, there's my favorite Miller quality of having about one working elevator per week. It's almost like just when you get happy the other one's fixed, the first one breaks. Right now Miller is holding (approximately) a solid three weeks of both elevators working! It's a miracle! I know the staff works hard to have them fixed on time, but sometimes a girl's just gotta be in a rush, because like I said earlier, it's just what girls do.
Although I'm making Miller sound like this terrible place, it really isn't all too bad. It's cozy, it's traditional and, most importantly, it's home. At least for now.
The nights when I'm in my lofted bed and I and hear girls coming home from Tigerland yelling, "WAIT... MY WEDGE IS LIKE COMING UNDONE, Y'ALL" are like the times where you just want to hit your siblings in the face at home, but you just don't because they're your siblings and Mom would be p-oed. Sure, things get rowdy around here, but it's almost like we all get a sense of unity from living here; with all the girls I see down the row, that I went to high school with, and many more I have yet to meet.
What I'm trying to say is Miller Hall is an experience of a lifetime - maybe not the most glamorous experience, but one to remember. Even if it's just about trying to use the "whore door" one night, or having a 6 a.m. fire drill you just want to shoot yourself in the toe over, the memories shared here are irreplaceable. I now know why I always heard so many stories about Miller, because a girl's day-to-day life in the Mansion is sometimes the most entertaining show ever.
PS: If you ever need to cheer yourself up, follow @JoanCMiller on Twitter. I promise it's worth your beloved follower/following ratio.
