The State of 2nd Andrews Address

In the 2004-2005 season at the University of Southern Maine, the second floor on the Andrews side of the Robie-Andrews Residence Hall was a floor that could not be rivalled. You could smell marijiuana just by entering through the hallway door. The floor of the bathroom was always covered in water and other liquids. There was someone drinking every night. It was just an ideal archetypal college setting. The residents were either music, theater or media studies majors with not a lot of real work to do and a whole lot of free time on their hands. Thursday nights were reasons for living.

I was more than excited to be living on 2nd Andrews again for my second year at USM. My floor was the floor to be living on. What's more? My roommate, Corey Anderson, happened to be quite beneficial in last year's room selection process. He and his exorbitant amount of credits helped us snipe one of the best rooms in the building. It's on the corner of the building, meaning three windows. Bunk beds to save space. Two roomy closets. Adequate electric outlet placement. Linoleum floors. Three overhead water sprinklers. White walls. The only real fault is the center ceiling-mounted fluorescent light had an epileptic-seizure inducing inconsistent blinking. But that was all really, and nothing some desk and floor lamps couldn't remedy. This year, as far as Residential Life was concerned, was looking pretty fuckin' rad on my part.

Alas, if all good things could last.

I was ill-prepared for this year's freshmen onslaught onto my beloved homestead. My best hypothesis at the moment is that the generation gap between mine and the next has either grown larger or faster, and these kids are straight out of a high school I recognize far too well. Middle America High's fresh new crop of graduates include all the stereotypes I spent my secondary education days pretending didn't exist. "Jocks", "Nerds" and the "Popular Girls" now live in the building an editorial from the Free Press campus paper referred to as "the art-fag dorm." Out my door, I hear echoes in the hall of kids chatting on cellphones with Monday Night football in the background. Walking down the stairs to the lobby, I pass packs of cookie-cutter magazine blondes with their short shorts and solid color designer tops tightly pressed over their perky B-cups. It's just feeling more and more highschool to me.

Luckily, these problems are going to work themselves out eventually. Personalities change and people grow up, and soon these n00bz will realize what college, and 2nd Andrews, and meeting my pretentious expectations, is all about. There are a number of saving graces, in the form of returning residents from last year other than myself, such as Pont & Despres in the same room, Chris Sand is present, along with half of the old Geek Quad. Two of my old high school alumni have moved onto the floor, as well as a fellow named Tim who attended my elementary school a very many years ago in a small town called Newmarket, New Hampshire.

I think I'll be feeling much better after the first Thirsty Thursday.

It is the second day of school, after all...