I remember what I wore on the day I moved into my freshman year dorm because it was more than the shirt on my back. It was hot that day in San Diego. October can be like that in Southern California. Sure the season turns, but it’s a trepidatious three point turn that lurches in and out of Summer like a beat up Toyota minivan. There were no elevators in Atlantis, the residence hall that I was assigned to. They were all named after historic fleets, mine a shuttle, but funny – I didn’t feel like I was taking off. My room was on the top floor up five stairwells with sharp turns and dividing walls that made it impossible to see my new neighbors even when they weren’t new anymore, a change for a girl from a town where every one knew everyone else. During the tour I had learned that these buildings were constructed around the time George Winne Jr., set himself on fire in Revelle Plaza in 1970 in protest to the …