We call it the big yellow house.
Almost nine months ago, 60 girls lined up outside of a big yellow house waiting to come inside and begin moving into what instantly became home. There were obvious nerves because realistically, who wouldn't be at least a little worried about living with 59 other girls? Honestly, I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
I was worried about never having any alone time. I was worried about sleeping in a sleeping porch with 30 other girls. I was worried that spending too much time with these girls would actually drive us apart from each other.
But walking into the foyer of my big yellow house on our move-in day last September immediately alleviated all of these worries because as sappy as it may sound, I knew that I was home.
That feeling of home unquestionably came from the people that were surrounding me in our big yellow house.
So to the big yellow house, thank you for giving us countless nights laying on the floor in the hallway in groutfits laughing literally about nothing. Thank you for lending us 59 other closets when we are all running up and down the hallways trying to get ready for a St. Fratty's or Derby Days social. Thank you for giving us movie nights on the sun porch cuddling with our comforters and the non-movie nights when we could not figure out how to work the projector so we just sit outside talking for hours all throughout spring term.
To the big yellow house, thank you for the nights that we could not stop laughing in the porches as we watch those poor girls that had the tops of a triple bunk attempt to climb up there after a night out, while also desperately trying to keep quiet because of others sleeping. Thank you for all of the days spent lounging in our day rooms on our futons, playing with the Snapchat filters and showing each other stupidly funny Vines. Thank you for all of the all-calls blasting "Pony" throughout the house. Thank you for the always stocked kitchenette with frozen waffles and Nutella waiting for us when we come home at three in the morning.
For all of the milkshake Thursdays, for the screams when French dip was on the menu, for the house boys that became some of our closest friends, thank you. Thank you for all of the so-called "show show pow pows" and for always having friends to talk to and music blasting in the showers.
Thank you for putting my favorite people in the world right next door or down the hallway from me because those people, in this house, have made this the best year yet.
It seems almost surreal that we are only a few days from officially moving out of this house, and it will genuinely be one of the hardest goodbyes I have ever had to say. You might think that I am being ridiculous or over-sentimental, but I have never felt more at home than I do here and that will be hard to part with.
So as I close out my last few days here, I once again want to say thank you to my big yellow home.