** Introduction:
I've been wanting to do a series on my blog about the myriad of unique, memorable places I've called my own in the past few years. Now. "Places I've Cried" may lead you to think the place is all bad-- that's simply not always true. But most of the time, it'll be true. Haha.
Please enjoy part one of this series in which I recall my first year away from home, my first time sharing a room, and my first time having unparalleled access to queso and chips. **
WESTERN CAROLINA UNIVERSITY (Cullowhee, North Carolina)
AKA: "The Whee"
Right off the bat this nickname was fated to be abused by me in my yet-to-exist blog posts. The school uses the nickname to be clever-- a LOT. Every club has a subtitle of "Whee Do This Or That". Whee Study! Whee Party Smart! Whee Recycle! Of course, if you're me, the clubs you joined freshman year were more along the lines of Whee Hang Ourselves or Whee Have No Friends.
It's not that my experience here was bad. It's just... It was AWFUL. A nightmarish nine months in the life of Sarah Kane, from orientation onwards.
Orientation STANK, because I quickly realized almost everyone starting their freshman year at Western was from a public school in my own hometown. The same public school I made it my life-purpose in high school to AVOID. All throughout my classy four years as a high school student, I made it a point to surround myself with fully grown, corrupt college students, who personally I found reliable in their dysfunction, unlike high school students, who were still unsure of just how terrible and thoughtless they could be.
So, of course, I found myself looking around the present company during orientation and rolling my eyes. One girl was bragging about her shoplifting experience, people left and right were asking me if I was a lesbian (if a girl asked me, I said no. If a guy asked me, I just shrugged), and constantly adults were getting on my last nerve by draping me in celebratory mardi-gras beads and cheap sunglasses.
So, orientation just REEKED of school spirit and over-excited freshman, and then reality truly hit when I moved into my dorm that fateful week in August. If you followed me on facebook during this critical time in my growth as a human, you all know about DEANNA CANIPE. I'm not even sure how you say her last name, but I prefer to pronounce it "Kuh-NIPE-uhhyousuucckk!" Deanna, was, God bless her, an angry little soul. She hated me. I hated her. It was a great match. But seriously, WCU lost what little faith I had placed in them when they matched me with her. We were the opposite on EVERYTHING, from schedule to music choices to personal boundaries... everything.
Quickly, very quickly (we're talking, forty minutes?) my life spiraled into a kind of Hell. Now, you would think a girl would be able to find solace from her living companions in the outside world of the college, but that simply wasn't the case for me. I distinctly remember looking out the window of my dorm and seeing six rednecks sitting on my car, drinking. Well. I pushed the lock button until it honked and they peed themselves, but sadly, most situations were not able to be solved in this manner.
Rednecks. Were. Everywhere.
No matter where I walked on campus, there were rednecks. I thought I was from a redneck area of North Carolina. No. No I wasn't. THIS was redneck county.
I eventually gave up on campus as a place of learning and enlightenment, and turned to the local town for some kind of light in my life. There was a bookstore I frequented, and the delightful gay man who worked the desk was probably my best friend freshman year. Other than the bookstore, there was a little tea place I went, and that was all good fun, until the hippies who worked there hit on me and I got too scared to go back. So most of the time, I went to the bookstore, paid too much for a coffee, and sat there listening to Queen through my headphones and reading about local history.
Now it sounds like I don't have any friends at this point.
I didn't.
Well, I did, at first. I made friends with some really nice peeps, except... well... who even KNOWS what happened. I still don't know. One of them decided to hate me, overnight, and turned my social group completely against me. I'm not bothered by it now, because looking back, I really couldn't afford to lose any more brain cells in those relationships. There were, however, a few people who survived and that I still consider good peeps. Shout-out to James, who I had jam sessions with up until I left WCU, and Deborah, who truly is a shining star in the midst of Western.
And of course, there are those typical college nights I'll forever live to romanticize. Sledding down hills on dumpster lids, late night talks with friends on a bench by the elevator, driving to the dollar store and buying inflatable dinosaurs with my grocery money... all fond memories. But I still throw up in my mouth a little when I think about them, because WESTERN.
If you love Western Carolina, don't hate me for hating it. Some people love it there. I just had far too many negative experiences in my short time there for it to be redeemed by any amount of free t-shirts or Honor's College Barbecues.
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