After completing my first 17-credit-hour week – mildly sleep deprived, understandably perplexed, and reasonably ready for the weekend – I lazily opened up my phone in the hopes that someone was as ready for adventure (and non-TDR food) as I was. I scrolled down my contacts, passing A…B…landing on C. Cassidy. Recently introduced at poetry slam during Welcome Week, we exchanged numbers after we bonded over an unyielding love and adoration for DC’s Ethiopian restaurants. Off went an invitation to this girl I barely knew, and within minutes, we had plans to make the extraordinary trek to Dupont’s Keren Restaurant on Sunday afternoon to celebrate the survival of our first week in college. Come Sunday, my roommate, Cassidy, and I made our way to one of the most magnificent meals accompanied by a menagerie of conversation. We gawked over the exotic food, our hands and mouths full of gestures and nuances of budding friendship. We laughed over the previous week: the awkward encounters, the new expectations, the early morning classes. Not to be cheesy or cliche, but we ended up celebrating more than just our first week of school. We were celebrating new beginnings.