*…crickets chirping…is that a…a tumbleweed?…*
Ok, maybe you don’t follow my blog like you do Lady GaGa’s Twitter, but I’m happy you’re reading this now, and if you read the first one, you’re two for two. You might as well keep it up.
Between now and the last blog I posted, I underwent an epic college-preparation excursion that some refer to as “dorm room shopping.” I’m lucky enough that my roommate lives only an hour away, and that she is as enthusiastic about decking out or room as I am, so we could go shopping together.
Our first stop was to Ikea. There aren’t many Ikeas around, so let me fill you in:
2. It’s the size of a mall. The place is massive.
3. Once you enter the doors, there is no exit until you complete the course of the entire store. Fortunately, when you need to take a break after mile 7, there are beds everywhere.
4. Looking at the room set-ups makes me really sad I don’t have room for a couch/kitchen/gazebo in my dorm next year.
It was an excellent decision; we hit the jackpot at Target. Comforters, storage containers, a coffee pot… In fact, we had to restrain ourselves from excessively buying eight waffle-makers and a dining room table. It was exceptionally difficult because we were both armed with our parents’ credit cards. I did splurge on those little refrigerator magnets that have random words and you make obscure sentences with them. I felt that it was a necessary part of my college career.
Not only did Mackenzie and I get to buy awesome stuff for our room, but we also got to spend the entire day getting to know each other. It was really great, and it made me really look forward to getting to live with her.
So my advice to you as you embark upon your own shopping experience is this: Don’t go crazy! Chances are, you won’t need kitchen appliances, a complete furniture set, or three sets of bedding. Stick to the basics, and you can always pick up what you need later.
And don’t forget you’re going to High Point University. THE High Point University. We’re getting awesome rooms, great food *cough steak cough*, and basically way more than you probably need. Forget the stress; we’re in good hands.