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a coming of age tale

When I think about how much has changed for me in the last 5 years, I have to laugh.

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My first day of college, 2004 ©Papa Rabe

And not just because I paid $65 dollars for those jeans from Abercrombie and Fitch that were meant to look old.

Look at 18 year old me, rockin’ it.

That knee hole was totally worth the extra cash.

I’d like you to meet fresh-out-of-high-school Allison (or, the artist formerly known as Allie). Over the summer after graduation I decided that I would furthermore be referred to by my full name, Allison. Allie was so 2003, thank you. Also, please forgive the quality of the picture. 1.3 megapixels was a lot for back then, I swear.

(I now have more than that in.my.phone.)

While we’re here, let’s take a quick tour of the clichés in this picture, shall we?

Hello, pooka shell necklace and quasi-edgy band tee-shirt. What’s that? I can hardly hear anything over your yelling. Something about trying desperately to fit the west coast kid stereotype? Don’t worry, I think you succeeded.

Cliché evidence of my Christian college-y-ness: Bibles on the windowsill (2 stacked on top of a ‘quiet time journal’ within perfect reach of my bed, classic), my roommate’s guitar stand in the bottom right of the picture because every good Christian college kid knows at least 4 worship songs on the guitar (typically all with the same chord progression which is convenient) and many will sit on blankets in the quad and sing them on sunny, beautiful days causing passing Christian college students to swoon. ::siiiiiiiiigh::

See? Get’s ‘em every time.

The dorm room essential beanbag chair where DanO and I would eventually spend many an evening kissing holding hands while listening to watching DVDs of Arrested Development.

Moving on.

Along with a big girl name change, I upgraded two time zones and found myself plum in the middle of the Midwestern United States living on a beautiful 2,500 person campus (only about 500 more people than my high school). This was it! College, new friends, a big, glamorous city to explore and new favorite hangout spots to find.

I had arrived.

One of the best parts of the entire experience was finding a kindred spirit:

Roommate, with a capital R

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Well hello, Roommate’s equally chunky shell necklace and screen printed tee-shirt! Oh, you’re from California?! For some reason I feel like I knew that already.

And yes, I changed into shorts in the above picture – they are just hiding behind the lamp I got from the obnoxiously colored dorm gear section of Target. I was headed to a very important intramural soccer practice… or I just wanted to show off my tan legs, I can’t really remember.

Hey look! I had ankles!

I miss those ankles.

(Also, please ammend the above clichés list to also include that college logo Nalgene bottle with a carabiner on the handle. Thank you.)

Roommate and I would spend the next 2 years of college living together and rearranging our modular furniture bi-weekly, hiding funny things in each others’ stuff, instant messaging from across the room, going on stealth operations to write on the campus sidewalks with chalk in the middle of the night, and even going on each others’ family vacations to Disneyland.

ride2This was a really scary ride, I promise.

ride1You’re just going to have to take my word for it.

ride3“Boy, I’m glad I didn’t pee my pants” faces.

This girl was the best roommate anyone could wish for. So easy going, fabulously hillarious, and at the heart of it, has a deep love for those around her – even those pesky youth group kids she served(/serves). When her roommate went on a midnight walk with some boy she just met, Roommate wanted to make sure that this new relationship had the right intentions. “Just don’t kiss him yet, ok? It’s too soon.

Sage advice.

To be continued…

6 Responses to “a coming of age tale”

  1. Andy

    Hey, that’s the Allie I remember! I think I might just still continue calling you Allie. I think I still have my pookah shell necklace somewhere. Oh, and apparently, I never was a good Christian college kid, because I didn’t own a guitar, nor did I know how to play the same quintessential 3-chord worship songs. Somehow I still snagged the girl, I think it must have been my traversing to the dark side where I learned to dance. Gasp!

    Reply
  2. Ran

    One thing to say: “Nice mugs, where’d you get them? Crate and Barrel??”

    Reply
  3. Laura Mail

    Aww…I like the pictures. That was back when Allison and I called you “short hair Allison” and “long hair Allison.” Fun times.

    Reply
  4. Emmie Bee

    OK, I am TOTALLY WITH YOU. I can go on any roller coaster ANY TIME-but that darn ferris wheel at CA adventure scares the daylights out of me!

    Reply
  5. Savannah

    Cute! I think I had that exact outfit….

    And that ride is scary! I usd to work at DCA and we had “code yellows” on that ride quite frequently!

    Reply

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