Orientation... Joy.

I received an email from Bar Ilan about a week ago about orientation. As I do with all my Bar Ilan emails, I see they are in my inbox and don't open them and just pretend they don't exist. I do this until I realize it will come back to bite me if I keep ignoring it. Ever wonder why I signed up for classes oh so late? And why my schedule (assuming I did it right, which I am severely questioning) deserves the worst schedule award?
Anyhoo, when I finally gathered the courage to open the what you would think was a death sentence email based on my facial expression, it said that orientation would be on Thursday, October 17 at 1:30 and details of a location will be sent in the following email.
Needless to say, details of the location were not sent in the following email. And that's not because I was too scared to check my emails from Bar Ilan.
Me, Ronit, and Daniella left our apartment (which is about a 1 minute and 12 second walk, well 3 minute walk if you plan on making an Aroma pit stop) at 1:15, because gd forbid should we be late for orientation. We don't even know what late means. Late does not exist anywhere in our dictionaries.
It was a very busy day on the road. Crossing the street took longer then expected, just FYI. So thank gd we gave ourselves that extra 15 minutes.
We got to Bar Ilan about 5 minutes before this orientation, location-less shindig began.
The best way to get to know a campus is to look for an orientation location. We walked everywhere. High. Low. Close. Far. I wish I could sound more like a Dr. Seuss book, but I can't think of anymore adj's (it's late, you know.)
We met up with fellow wanderers.
Oh, and this orientation was for new olim so I was convinced they were going to tell us how amazing we are for doing something so difficult and how we are basically changing the world. Yes, I would like to think I am changing the world by attending college in Israel. Iran is no longer a nuclear threat because now, I, Lottie Kestenbaum am attending a college in Israel. So chill.

My student ID. They asked for a passport picture. I understood that as my actual passport picture. Hence I look like a terrorist. Note to self- a passport picture means a passport size picture. Genius. 

But no no. Clearly their aim was to put us through the "can you really survive in this country" test and make us suffer and be nomads in a new campus. I was not leaving until we found this location.
Survival of the fittest is on.
I will not eat, or sleep. I will find this orientation and get the praise that I deserve.
Finally after our wandering group multiplied (my water was running low at that point. It was getting dangerous as the heat continued to pound. Poetic license is always prohibited.) Daniella got a text with the location.
About 22 other people were there.
What a party. And no freebies (last orientation I was at was the Stern one- story of it's own. There was a table of just presents. I came home with more pressies than I get on my birthday. A laundry basket, a frisbee, mincha/maariv, just to name a few. What did I do with all these things? Throw them out. Shhh.) all I wanted was a Bar Ilan shirt which duh I was going to wear all day everyday.

Topic of conversation- how much getting your tests translated into English will be (accepting donations now). And ask for help because you will have a hard time and want to go home.

Thanks for the encouragement.

My first day of school is tomorrow (assuming there is no strike which is the word on the street).
I think I may fake sick.

Oh jolly. 

Visiting hours in my apartment will be between 2-4 (aka when my class is. Please don't ask what it is about. I wish I could tell you.)