I reject your reality, and substitute my own.

The University Way

So I have to say, living on a college campus is something else. Staying in a dormitory is quite amusing; about forty people on my floor that mill about during all hours of the day and night. Certain people are only available at certain hours - most likely, my roommate can be found in the early afternoons and late evenings, while either studying or watching his new obsession - Firefly. My girlfriend likes to be up in the mornings, so if you want to get a hold of Jessica, be at her door between 10:30 and 12:30. I'm generally at home from 10:30 - 1:30, and after 5, my breaks between classes. There will almost always be someone in the lounge watching TV, though.

Living with forty random people is kind of like flipping a coin forty times. If you're lucky, all of them will be great, and none will rub you the wrong way. Generally, the mean edges towards a few that you really like, a majority of which you just don't speak to, and a few that make you feel like living in the dorms is akin to picking the most whiny people you have known your entire life and compressing them into one person that just happens to live next door. I got a mix of each.

My roommate is a pretty neat guy. Even though it's election year, his political views have been wisely hushed in order to avoid dramatic conversations. Apparently he's well known on this floor already - his nickname is "Naked", in reference to his lack of shirts while walking through the hallways. He likes mostly organic foods, listens to funny music, and has a preference for very loudly crunching cereal. We're living together pretty comfortably, though some issues have arisen. As good a match as we are, the cereal has become a problem. Kashi designed their food to be healthy, not to be quiet. When my first class isn't until 11:30 on Fridays, my roommate's crunching can sound like his molars are jackhammers on cheap plywood. Which is my opinion on how his cereal tastes, but that's not my job to judge. We go to church and hit the climbing gym together, though, so I suppose all is forgiven.

There are lots of people on my floor whom I am acquaintances with. I don't know them very well. This empty paragraph symbolizes the lack of knowledge about my newly found friends. Until I can acquire more information and develop my own ideas, there's very little I can say about them. Yeah, that's what they teach you in English Composition 1.

Then of course, there's that one guy. Our introductions were quite droll. My neighbor knocked on my door and asked:

"Andrew, will you do me a huge favor??"

"..."

"Can I keep all my stuff in your fridge?"

I'm not sure how to respond to a question like that. A Residence Hall at the University of Washington is not a very private place to live, so any semblance of personal space is closely guarded. My fridge is hidden away in my closet, away from prying eyes and mooching hands, and is also shielded by a laundry basket of dirty clothes. If my new neighbor thinks it's perfectly normal to enter my room every morning to pour himself some milk to have with his cookies, I think a discussion on boundaries should be held. This was one request that I did not have to discuss with my roommate before I gave an answer.

Other than that, living here isn't half bad. The food's expensive, the appliances are cheap, and the lounge doesn't always stay clean. But hey, college is the best years of my life, right? I love it.

thinkandrew

posted by Andrew @ 12:44 AM