Livin’ La Vida Uno

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Sep 192006
 
Authors: Hilary Davis The Rocky Mountain Collegian

I don’t know where the bowls are. In my own kitchen, I mean. Which is pretty sad. I’ve been living in my apartment for a few months now, and I still don’t know where the serving bowls are. And this is only one sign of many that I am fairly bad at living on my own.

It’s not really a big deal about the bowls, because I don’t really know how to cook. I can make a sandwich, if there aren’t too many ingredients. I do make a mean batch of cereal, but that’s about it. As you can imagine, I don’t host a lot of dinner parties.

It’s just so hard, because I’ve always lived with a large group of people. I lived in the residence halls my freshman year and the summer after I was an orientation leader, and I lived in my sorority house for two years. I’ve always had someone to cook for me, look after me and hang out with me if I was getting lonely. Now, I live with two other people who are never home and a 5-pound Chihuahua, who, I’m pretty sure, takes tequila shots and watches Telemundo when we’re not looking.

But when they are home, apparently, my roommates are hiding the bowls from me. And all the food, because there’s none in the refrigerator. Call me high maintenance, but I guess I just never imagined that it would be so hard to sustain my own life without the aid of several other people.

I guess I shouldn’t complain too much though, because I have learned a lot from living independently. Such as (drum roll please.):

– Easy Mac should be called Difficult Mac, it is just that finicky. But, if you leave it in the microwave for long enough it will congeal and make for an excellent Frisbee.

– Kindly, grandfatherly looking men belonging to the (insert a religion here) will stop by repeatedly to convert you because you are alone and not under any adult supervision. DO NOT TALK TO THEM or they will keep coming back.

– If you leave candles burning, there is no one home to blow them out. And stuff catches on fire. Seriously.

– The strange smell under the sink isn’t coming from a homeless man, it’s coming from the trash, and when you live alone, sometimes it’s hard to remember to take it out.

– Don’t let homeless men into your house. Your roommates will not appreciate it.

– If the homeless man can cook, you should probably make an exception because that might be the only food you eat that doesn’t include the words “ramen” or “noodles.”

– If you look pitiful enough, people will actually cook for you, thus alleviating the problem of having to cook anything ever.

Even though I miss living with a lot of people, I’m glad I’m practicing living on my own while I’m in college. Because what if I were an adult and I starved to death and almost burned down my home? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?

Hilary Davis is a senior technical journalism major. Her column appears Wednesdays in the Collegian. Replies and feedback can be sent to letters@collegian.com.

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