A copy of Fight Club in paperback.
The NIN Fragility tourbook.
A box full of CDs.
My paper journal.
Crystal light, a handful of apples and soup-in-a-cup.
Three mis-matched blankets: an old kitty-cat sheet from my bed at home; a stolen British Airways blanket; and a large sari-like blanket thats nearly gone threadbare.

My roomie has brought much more; she, however, is about a two hour drive away, where as I am only 45 minutes or so up the road. I can go home on the weekends, and I have easy access to the resources of home.

I listen to her stories, she shows me pictures and points out where everyone is going to school. She talks on the phone with someone from home. I just kill time.

First night in my new home.