Last night I went back, as I occasionally do, to good 'ol Og 4 (fourth floor, Oglesby dorm at U of I). Oglesby is the dorm on the right, and Trelease is on the left. The guys were on Og, and the girls were in Trelease. I don't know if the girls and guys are still separated like this today.
Oglesby and Trelease were the "twin towers" of Florida Avenue Residence Halls, called FAR for short. It was (and still is) pretty far from anything of value on campus.
While sleeping, I go back to Og 4 on a frequent basis, for whatever reason. I graduated 17+ years ago. I have no idea why I keep going back.
Last night's trip was more interesting than most. For some reason I lived on the fifth floor, not the fourth. Did I live on the fourth in college? I honestly am not sure. Carl can tell me when he gets back from vacation.
Anyway, it was after class and I was trying to make it to my room but I couldn't find it. I went up one floor, and down one and looked everywhere inbetween, but no dorm room. I couldn't find any of my floormates or their rooms either. The place is only "so big" I kept telling myself. I walked all around floors 3, 4, and 5 and nothing. What was my room number? Can't recall. Dammit, where is my fucking room? I heard "Back in Black" on someone's stereo. I smelled pot. I was definitely in the right place, but no damned room.
The elevator had rich red paneling like a fancy hotel elevator. On one floor was a beautiful sports bar, with lots of flat panel TV's all running games in HD. It was smoky in there. One side of the sports bar had open windows to Miller Park (where the Brewers play), in left field. There was a game going on. I was interested, but really wanted to find my dorm room that I had misplaced.
Then my 3 year old came into the room and woke myself and the wife up. Ugh. Another wonderful night of no sleep.