I have a few Furnald stories.

I remember once making my bed late one morning and finding an acorn in the sheets. Thinking nothing more than, "That's weird," I threw it out the window and shut the pane. Later that winter, I woke to a light scratching noise. I looked out the window and saw a squirrel scamper away. Maybe he put the acorn there.

I also remember there was an elderly Chinese couple who did their morning exercises outside my window in the path in front of Journalism. I rarely got up early enough, but when I did it was very peaceful to watch. Not that it inspired me to do exercise of any kind.

How did I get a Furnald room my sophomore year? Well, that year I had a really bad lottery number, and I was worried not just about getting a bad room, but getting no room at all. By my Fall return to campus, I still had not received an assignment, and was beginning to wonder how a daily commute from Indiana would go, so I was thrilled to finally land a third floor, corner, campus-facing room in Furnald. Imagine my dismay, as I opened the door to my new room and found it occupied. Clothes in the closet. Books lining the bookshelves. An unmade bed. Its resident absent. My father and I went back to the housing dept to complain and within an hour, the room was cleared out. I kept that room until Senior year.