I was destined to go to college in North Carolina.
After all, I’m from New Jersey.
Four years ago, I loaded up my car with all of college’s essentials: neon leggings and a Target shower caddy.
It was only after the 496-mile drive ‘down South’ that I realized a monogrammed bath towel and Tervis tumbler were all I truly needed to fit in here at UNC.
My moment of weakness manifested in the purchase of school store Croakies — which, I am proud to say, will definitely not be making the return trip up North.
The first week of college, Sammy Adams wisely advised us to “do something crazy!” but I don’t think he was referring to a future relationship with my boyfriend, Davis L.
Four years later, I now know that Cheerwine is neither cheerful nor wine.
And for the record, Southern Comfort is also misleading, y’all.
Even though I wasn’t a Tar Heel born, after four years of sitting in the Pit and standing for Dance Marathon, studying in the stacks and sleeping in the stacks, I will always be Tar Heel bred.
