My family is an Illini family through and through. 5/5 members are alumni, currently enrolled, or are headed off to Champaign in a couple of months (that’s me!). Not only is my immediate family orange and blue, but a large majority of my extended family are also- including all of my parents’ siblings and their spouses (my aunts and uncles), with the exception of one. On top of that, I have grown up with a lot of my parents’ friends from college, and their kids were my very first friends. If

you couldn’t guess, they all go to UIUC as well, with the exception of one who goes to Purdue. “Illini fate” is the term we use for it, as it has always seemed like the natural path my life would take. So naturally, I pushed against it for a while.

 

Nobody ever expressly told me that I would be headed to UIUC, and my parents never dressed me in “future Illini” onesies when I was a baby. For a family that has such strong connections to the orange and blue campus, we really have a lack of pride. It’s not like the movies, where the kid is trapped because their parent is forcing their alma mater down their throats as the singular option in life. It felt more like a nicely paved path, headed into the peaceful sunset (with Champaign as the sunset, of course). But for a while, I was convinced that I was different. As my brother, sister, and friends headed into the sunset, I felt like I should turn around. There is this spreadsheet that my sister had made for me when I was a freshman, of the statistics and requirements of the schools I was going to apply to. On that list were schools like LSU, University of Florida, JMU, University of Virginia, the Ohio State University, and other far reaches from what became my actual list. The moral of the story is: I really did not think I was going to UIUC. So, when the time for applications rolled around this past fall, I put my hopes into other schools, like Indiana University and Pepperdine. Pepperdine is really the one that got away. Ugh. It still makes my heart hurt a little

 bit, and for a minute there I really thought I was going to become a Wave. In case you’ve never heard of or visited the school, it is BEAUTIFUl. A far cry from the Midwestern cornfields, it is located in Malibu, in the Santa Monica Mountains that overlook the Pacific Ocean. It is the most beautiful campus you can imagine. All the dorms circle around the main valley, where the heart of the campus lies. I thought I was over it, but writing about it is bringing up repressed emotions. 

In the back of my head, I guess a little voice always knew I was going to end up in Champaign. As a person, I am not really the most spontaneous or risk-taking, and it really just made sense that I would follow in the footsteps of my family. The school is great (especially for my major), I live in Illinois (obviously), and I would already know people on campus. Still, I was convinced I was different. But, it wasn’t until I was sitting in Gia Mia, decision update notification in my hand that I realized I could get rejected, and that I would be so lucky to get to become an Illini. 

At the end of the day, going to UIUC was an opportunity I could not pass up, especially because the education and program I am to enter is a really good one. I am so grateful to be headed to Champaign this fall, and I cannot wait! Though I always saw having my siblings there and so many of my family-friends on campus as a bad thing, I

 have realized that it will only add to the experience and a sense of relief in knowing I alrea

dy have a little piece of home. Right off the bat, I will always have a ride home, and many apartments that I can go to if I ever need non-dorm food. In particular, my sister could not be more thrilled that I will be joining her next year, and she already has a list of places she wants me to go with her and people she wants me to meet. I may not have escaped my Illini fate, but maybe it’s called ‘fate’ for a good reason!

A couple months ago, I wrote a blog called “The Worst Trip”, which detailed the time my brother filled my family’s car with diesel during our cross-country road trip, causing us to be stranded on a Las Vegas highway. That trip has lived in infamy for years because it was truly the worst trip I have ever been on, and I never thought it would be dethroned. Until now. 

My family used to live in Seattle, so every couple years we go back. We moved when I was really young, so I’ve never really felt a pull to the Pacific Northwest, but my dad and siblings absolutely love it. So, when my dad had a work conference in Seattle that just so happened to coincide with my siblings’ spring break, it seemed too perfect to pass up (I really only went because I did not want to go to school). The trip began surprisingly smooth, as TSA is usually horrific when my brother and sister are involved. Our plane flew out March 11th, and we arrived in rainy Seattle a couple hours later. My dad was already in the city, so he picked us up from the airport in our rental car- a gray Chrysler Pacifica. All was well, and we headed to the I-District (or so they called it, I have no idea) for dinner. We had a grand ol’ time, and as we were walking across the street to where we parked, all I could hear was a lady yelling “IS THIS YOUR CAR?” and my sister gasping. And there it was- our middle passenger window smashed and three backpacks gone (mine, my sister’s, and my dad’s). I honestly could not believe my eyes, and the lady with bright 

pink hair continued to yell and shove her phone at us, telling us that the cops were being a word I cannot type here, and that we need to talk to him. She and her husband were residents of the nearby apartment complex, and she was witness to the carjacking, but there were no license plates on the car that broke into ours. As my dad talked to the police, the lady told me about her cat litter! A very strange series of events, and my head was spinning. PSA:

Driving down the highway with a busted, crumbling window is really an experience. 

We got to the hotel we were staying at, and everything kind of started to sink in. When I pack, I only put clothes in my suitcase so everything else is in my backpack. Honestly, it wasn’t that bad for me (except for the fact my wallet was stolen), but for my sister and dad, it was kind of devastating. My sister is a nursing student at UIUC, and her IPad with all her notes was stolen, as well as her wallet. But, all of my dad’s life work- including all his written notes, ideas, and electronic files on his computer, were just gone on top of his medications, flash drives, and books he had gotten from the conference (as I think it was some sort of writing/author summit?). Not good. But, as we were leaving the car to go inside the hotel, we found a QFC receipt that the carjackers had accidentally left behind, which is the Seattle equivalent of Jewel Osco. When we showed the officer who came to take our case, he laughed. 

It was a wild night, but my dad was determined to fulfill the purpose of our Seattle trip and go down memory lane. The next day, we got another rental car, and headed off. We visited the EEU (the University of Washington’s Experimental Education Unit), which was our first preschool, Discovery Beach (our favorite place when we were little), and drove past all four houses we used to live in. We also visited old friends, all of whom told us their own personal Seattle horror stories, which included carjackings, car thefts, and arson. The guy at Apple also told us how his car was stolen and how he was attacked when walking to Target. Wild times.

 

The next day, we went on a little hike that we used to do, went up the Space Needle, visited Pike’s Place to see the throwing of fish, went on a ferry to Bainbridge Island, drove to Queen Anne to see the city view, and then met up with MORE old friends. Also, when we got back to our car from the ferry, the car we parked next to had their windows smashed through. Seattle is a very interesting place!

The day after that was our last, and it was time to head home. But, traveling with two missing IDs is very difficult. My sister and I were each taken individually by TSA agents to answer questions about ourselves, which was a very nerve-wracking and time consuming process. I thought I had failed when I couldn’t remember my family’s home phone number (which was disconnected when I was five), but somehow, we made it through! We did end up missing our flight, but we were able to connect through Denver. The very next day, I was at school.

Overall, the trip was very memorable and we did a lot, but it definitely takes the cake for the worst trip. I think part of it was also that the grayness of Seattle constantly made me sleepy, but having our stuff stolen added to my bad mood. I am glad I got to see all our old family friends and breathe the salty pacific northwest air, but I would take a car full of diesel all over again. In conclusion, (1) I do not think I particularly like Seattle, (2) I will ALWAYS take my wallet with me even if I think everything is fine, and (3) I will always put my backpack in the trunk.