"No, dad, I do not want the desk in the middle of the room."

It’s the start of a new school year and to honor that, we at CollegeCandy are bringing back our favorite series “We’ve All Been There.” Every week, Lauren – University of Michigan will comment on the common experiences all college women share, including some new ones thrown into the mix.

After a long drive and an even longer wait to get a prime spot by the curb, you get out of the car (where you were pressed between the door and a chest of plastic drawers for the past three hours) and start unloading your life onto the sidewalk. Sweaty students circle you, maneuvering their university-supplied dolly around your growing pile of stuff, while “Move-in Makers” (or older students who were clearly roped into this by their student organization) rush towards you and offer to help.

You pile your first load onto the flat bed, load your mom up with the lighter stuff (like your laptop and backpack) and make your first trip into the dorm while your dad sits outside to “watch your stuff”/take a moment to breathe and work off the road rage.

You check in, get your keys, then follow one of the helpers to the elevator. When an empty one finally arrives, you elbow your way in, rolling over yours/everyone else’s toes in the process. You push the button for your floor and stand awkwardly close to a complete stranger holding a microwave until the door opens on your floor. Read More »

In the coming days, a whole new batch of freshmen will be arriving on campus.  Their rented mini-vans will clog the parking lots, their wide-eyed gazes and slow feet will make getting to class that much more miserable.  Forget drinking during those first weeks if you’re underage.  Police will be waiting in the bushes for these dummies to come outside holding a telltale red solo cup, and you don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.

When you devote your walk to class thinking of all the ways you hate the new lanyard-toting campus population, remember that you too were once wondering the difference between north and south campus.    And while all freshmen eventually learn the lay of the land, making your life easier, they’re strapped with a couple problems that are harder to shake.  A couple problems named Mom and Dad.

As an upperclassman, your parents have probably learned the ropes by now.  They call when they know you’re going to be sober, and you call when you need your debit card refilled.  The youngins, on the other hand, have yet to teach their folks these difficult lessons.  Forget that they have to deal with Mom checking in at 7:30 on a hungover Sunday morning.  First they’ve got to get the parentals to actually leave. Read More »

It’s been raining nonstop since my graduation. Is the weather trying to tell me something? Maybe, but I’ve been too busy to notice. Although I have spent the last four years reading, writing, Facebook stalking, attending classes in my pajamas, and dancing on dirty frat house floors (all taxing activities in their own ways), I have to say – this past week has been incredibly busy and I’ve only been doing one thing: packing!

First, there was the great dorm room move-out adventure. After four years, I certainly compiled quite a handful of college collectibles such as princess tiaras, hot pink feather boas, and an unlimited number of Post-its in all shapes, sizes, and colors. This move-out consisted of me scrutinizing every little thing: “Am I really going to crack open this Literature Criticism and Theory book again?” and “Will this orange American Apparel dress look good outside of a strobe lighted dance floor?” Even though it was incredibly annoying and time-consuming to go through everything, I managed to clean up my entourage of trinkets and memorabilia (and I even managed to donate a lot to Goodwill!).

You know what happens after moving out though…You have to move in somewhere. So, I made the seven hour drive from Virginia to Georgia and moved into my mother’s new house. Did I mention she moved to a mountain in the middle of nowhere and lives off a dirt road now, instead of living just a short car ride away from metropolitan Atlanta? Oh yeah, but that’s a story for another day. Since my arrival, I have done nothing more than move my stuff in and, well, unpack those boxes I just spent hours taping up and carrying out. Read More »

I will admit it, I know nothing about moving, especially to a city. I’ve lived the last 18 years of my life in a small town in Northern Ontario, where my parents took care of my every need.  I was happy, I was comfortable, and best of all, I knew my way around. The only time I had ever moved was when I was 2 years old, when we moved across the street (really), and I’m pretty sure I slept through most of it.

I grew up in the kind of town where you can’t walk down the street without seeing someone you know, and, of course, everyone knows your business. But as great as that all sounds, the time had come for me to spread my hard-partying, college-going, moving-to-the-city wings.

After being accepted to college just outside of Toronto, I thought “why should I wait until September to move?” So I packed up my things and began my life as an adult. I found a gorgeous 2 bedroom apartment right beside my future school to share with a couple friends – the only catch was that the lease started in July, my friends weren’t moving until September, and I would be on my own for two months. I moved in last week, and not only have I learned the joys of being able to walk around naked, I’ve also learned a thing or two about living on your own for the first time.

1. Save yourself the hassle – pack smartly. I got to my new place and decided to unpack dishes and the things I would need for my kitchen first. While this is a great idea, having zero labels on any boxes has left me completely forkless. Spoons? Knives? The cool egg timer I bought for the “once-in-a-blue-moon” occasions I want hard boiled eggs? Yes. But forks? No clue where they went! And it will take me days to dig through every last box in this mess of an apartment to find them. It may be annoying to organize and label your stuff when you pack, but it is not nearly as annoying as attempting to eat spaghetti with a spoon. Read More »