The Shower Memoirs

(No this is not a dirty shower scene story get outta here)

I have run into a number of problems my first year of college so far: roommate issues, work issues, and even ramen noodle issues just to name a few (they just should not be cooked in the microwave contrary to what roommate number 1 thinks). But none are more important than one major problem I have encountered, and have been battling since the day my parents dropped me off at this university…yes, you called it: shaving my legs.  Confused? Let me break it down for you.

I live in a house modeled over 60 years ago, and modeled strictly for boys might I add.  The scholarship I have earned “allows”/requires me to live in a house with the rest of the scholars, 75% male.  It has only been recently that they have let girls receive this scholarship and live in the scholar house, which could be mistaken for a frat house considering the activity and feng shui /fəNG ˈSHwē,-SHwā/ going on. (When I googled how to spell it, I typed “how do you spell..” I typed an “f” and one of the top search results was “how do you spell funkshway?”  So now you know how to spell it and can save the embarrassment of googling it.)

Anyway as I was saying, the house was built and designed many years ago for boys.  Now, boys and girls have different needs, yes, we know that.  College boys do not need spacious bedrooms or closets or basically anything that would reflect polish or poise, so why would the showers be any different.  Let me tell you the current shower situation.

You walk into the bathroom.  There are two showers to your left, a toilet, and three sinks to your right.  You step into the shower: the door is glass and is see-through, the floor is covered in mildew, and the walls are 3 feet by 3 feet.  You have literally enough room to stand there and maybe get your elbows high enough to wash your butt-length hair (I wish I was cool enough to have my hair that long).  So you go through your normal shower routine (one that I perfected when I was 8 and took my first shower…I was a late bloomer. What can I say I liked me a bath). 

Every 4 days I shave my legs. And thus here begins our tale: IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO SHAVE YOUR LEGS IN COLLEGE.

Get used to it.  I have been at college for 3 months now.  That is 90 days…divided by 4 equals 22.5 times I have tried to shave my legs and have failed.  That is a lot of effort.  It is simply impossible.  There are a number of reasons I believe it is impossible:

1)   The space is too damn small.  Seriously, measure out 3 feet in your head. 9 square feet is all we get to clean ourselves. 

2)   There is nothing to rest your leg on to prop it up-which I believe is the preferred method of shaving

3)   Considering you have to leave your leg straight, any soap you put on your leg is immediately wiped away, so you try to go faster.  But trust me, this can only end one way and its called RAZOR BURN. 

4)   No matter how hard you try, your ass is going to touch the wall.  The walls are cold, and make me sad.  No matter how hard I try I cannot shake the fact that hundreds of other butts have touched that same wall.  I just don’t like that statistic.  

5)   In my most recent attempt at shaving, I decided to go with the “flamingo pose.”  You know, place your one foot on the crook of your other knee and try to balance.  Now I’ve always thought I was a fair balancer what with being a dancer and all, but when you throw in the constant risk of touching butt-walls just from going off balance the slightest bit, I’m a mess.  So picture it: I’m ready to shave my legs, just finishing up the final stages of my shower and I grab by razor and soap.  I place my foot on my knee and start to balance.  Immediately I think I’ve come up with the greatest solution and that this will forever be how I shave.  I get about half way done and lose my balance.  I fall onto the door, grab the handle and the door flies open.  It was like slow motion, with me screaming in my mind "shit shit shit i really hope this door doesn't open." I stumble out of the shower to meet the eyes of another female housemate in the mirror.  Shocked, I jump back into the shower.  No words were spoken, only the mutual disbelief exchanged through the mirror. 

I would rather be hairy than be naked in front of my housemates.  And that is why I will be participating in No Shave November…wish me luck.

The Party Memoirs

The Party Memoirs

At a public university with around 30,000 students, there is going to be parties, and lots of them. If you want to party, you can, and i even encourage you to. You want to party on a monday night? Yeah, you can. You want to party at 3 oclock on a wednesday? Sure. But, the primary parties are thrown on thursday, friday, and saturday nights.

Parties are fun. The parties here are crazy. But the shocking thing about college parties that is different from your high school parties is what goes on before. No one shows up to a party sober anymore. One friday night, my friends took me to a house party. It was fine, but it was not going to be our final destination (not the horror movie-i hate scary movies). This was what they called a pre-gaming party. In college, you dont just go to a party. No. You actually go to a before party to drink, so you can arrive at the real party already drunk. This may seem confusing to some people, like myself, and probably to other countries who already think that Americans are stupid, because we are.

So like i said, i found myself in this situation, at a party, drinking simply to get drunk, go to another party, and get more drunk. The before party went something like myself taking 8 consecutive shots and chugging a strawberrita. We then walked to the real party. By this time i was really feeling it. I usually describe by level of drunkedness on a scale of my level of sociableness. In other words, I am very shy, especially when it comes to parties, or just being in large crowds in general. So if i am really talkative and easily talk to strangers, I am very drunk. If i am still shy and not wanting to speak to anyone, i am still pretty sober and generally nervous. In the words of Natasha Bedingfield, i really "release my inhibitions, and feel the rain on my skin" when i am drunk. So this party was great: I was talking to people that I didnt know and drinking beer, (lots of it) which i typically hate. I surprised myself and was actually having a great time.

I remember starting a debate, one of my favorite pastimes.  Religion was the topic of the night. I think i yelled "i love jesus" a few too many times, seeing as it was my thesis, body paragraph, and conclusion for my side of the argument. I think what i was trying to get at was that i dont care what religion you are, what you practice, or who your God is. If you believe in Jesus and have a personal relationship with your God, you are going to make it to the gates of heaven. Ok enough with the heavy stuff. It was my first keg party of college, and i liked it.

So I have the worlds smallest bladder when i am drinking. I literally have to pee every 20 minutes once i break the seal. I decide to go to the bathroom, of course this is a shitty house with a bathroom that has a door that doesnt lock. So Im peeing and cant feel my body (i usually go numb when i drink-i guess thats normal?). I stand up and in the distance hear a splash of some sort. Right when i am about to flush the toilet, i see something in the back of it. I think to myself, well i dont remember pooping, so what the hell is that? I decided to reach into the toilet, and low and behold, i pull a phone out of the toilet. I remember turning it over, recognizing the phone case, and then eventually deciding, that yes, this was indeed mine. I couldnt believe it. My iphone fell into the toilet. awesome. I was not in the right state of mind to handle this. I wrapped it in a towel and left the bathroom. I dont remember much about the rest of the night until the walk home. A girl decided i was ready to leave (probably a good call). So we start walking home, and somehow on one of the biggest college campuses in the country, i run into my brother and all of our friends i was supposed to hang out with that night. I can remember throwing my shoes at them and i think some conversation was exchanged. Its not that i dont remember the night before after i drink. I just genuinely have a horrible memory. drunk or not, i sometimes dont remember things that happened just a day before. I somehow made it home, threw up in the toilet a few times, and went to bed. I didnt even make it to 1 am.

And that was my first college party. I tell this story cause its funny but mainly because you should learn from my mistakes:

1) DO NOT LEAVE YOUR IPHONE IN THE YOUR BACK POCKET OF YOUR JEANS
2) Dont throw your shoes, you may not get them back
3) Do not leave your iphone in the back pocket of your jeans

P.S. My phone still works, but my shoes were never seen again

So here's to the parties, the alcohol, and the journey.


This is real life-i picture messaged this to my mom right before i dropped my phone in the toilet

She replied with "I just took the dogs on a walk. xoxo good night!"
So yeah, good night.

The Roommate Memoirs

The Roommate Memoirs

I am a little hesitant to put this on the internet, considering everyone has access to it and this could be easily traceable, and i dont wanna hurt any feelings. First and foremost, i do not want to hurt any feelings. Never the less, it wouldnt be right to leave out such a huge part of my college life. So, to my roommates, i would like to apologize right now if you read this, and if you are reading this, i warn you to rethink this, not read this section, and never bring this up again.

Random roommate. This could go 3 different ways: you and your randomly selected roomie love each other and have a great year; you and this person have nothing in common, but act indifferently towards one another and you cannot really complain because you could have it worse (or as my friend describes her situation "we inhabit the same space well"); or you have literally nothing in common with the person chosen to be your roommate and want to shoot yourself in the foot every moment of every day. Well, not only do i have 1 random roommate, i have 2. And we fit into the third category if you ask me. And there lies the problem: if you ask me i will say it is misery. But if you ask either of them, we are living happily in category 1 where we are all besties and stay up all night telling stories and braiding each others hair and will be in each others weddings. Nope.

So why do i feel this way you ask? I will tell you.

It all started back in the first week of school. My first week of college. I was nervous. I was homesick. I was scared about going away for school. The first week of school i would take showers just so i could cry. So yeah, that's how i was feeling. I have not shared a room since i was a little kid, and I am the type of person that needs space every once in a while, so i knew this was going to be a struggle from the beginning. But i was not prepared for what i would have to face, and continue to face today.

Its 5:30 am. A quiet and still bedroom slightly below room temperature (because the thermostat is fucked up). I am wrapped up in my covers. I am lost somewhere in a dream just coming out of REM sleep. (yes i know about sleep cycles) and then I am suddenly awoken to one of the worse modern love songs of all time: "fine by me." Im sure this song reminds her of her wonderful boyfriend and love of her life. So of course it is the most appropriate song to wake up to. So yes there i was, sitting up in my bed glaring at the source of the noise, my roommates phone. we will call this roommate "roommate number 1" and will refer to her like this from now on. again, i dont wanna hurt any feelings. So im thinking, when is this girl going to wake up and turn that shit off? the refrain had played through twice before she sat up and turned it off. then, she did something i will forever remember as one of the worst things she's ever done: she kissed a picture of her boyfriend and said, "good morning my love." my mouth just sat there hanging wide open, in shock. This bitch had woken me up 2 hours before i needed to be awake and i was livid. So i lay back down and try not to yell at roommate number 1. Then i hear the buttons being pushed on a microwave setting a time. Of course roommate 1 had to purchase the loudest microwave on the planet. But was this girl for real? she was actually using the worlds loudest microwave at 5:30 in the morning?! Yes, she was. Roommate number 1 needed her oatmeal. If that wasnt enough, this girl changed her outfit 9 times!!! and loudly i might add!

Rommate number 1 also has some bad habits i should address. She burps--all the time. When i say "excuse you" in my most serious tone, she laughs a hysterical laugh and then calls me a silly goose.  She hogs the fridge, the one that i bought! She lets food literally rot in said fridge. she calls me Sa-wa. My name is sara. i refuse to respond to sa-wa. All she talks about is her boyfriend and their relationship and blah blah blah. Let me tell you a little something about their relationship: it is similar to one i had in second grade and it is annoying as hell. There are love notes all around our room. she is always on the phone with him, telling him EVERY. SINGLE. THING. that happened to her that day. Roommate number 1 does not cuss, instead resorting to mature words like "fart" or "poopy." Roommate number 1 lives in a fantasy world. She is one of the most naive people i have ever met, and thats saying something. She is always telling me to "suck it" if she has finished her homework or "you suck" if i do not have homework that day and she does. Im sorry, but what? I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT IF YOU HAVE YOUR HOMEWORK FINISHED. I ALSO DONT LIKE WHEN YOU TELL ME I SUCK BECAUSE CLEARLY I ROCK. Leave me alone.

Roommate number 2 is horrible but in a very different way. I would say that i relate to roommate 2 a bit more, but there lies the problem. Once roommate number 2 starts talking, there is no stopping it. It doesnt matter if im laying in bed with my eyes closed, sitting with headphones on, or literally sitting in the bathroom stall, roommate number 2 wants to tell me her life story, and she is going to. Roommmate number 2 talks in a german accent with a hint of russian in it-im sure she doesnt know she's adding a russian twang, but to a trained ear (mine-im the queen of accents) its just poorly executed. Roommate number 2 is one of the most negative people alive. Im not sure if life has made her this way through her misfortunes, or she has just been this way forever? It could be both. But roommate number 2 only has negative things to say about anyone. Her teachers, family members, random people on the street-"what were they thinking! Die! Like who are you?!" are among her most popular phrases right now, and she uses them excessively. Roommate number 2 always say "fuck you" to me and i think it is to impress people, considering she usually only says it when other people are around. it is usually overkill and not needed. ok and yeah, im not a pussy but it hurts my feelings :( its just so abrupt and unnecessary. And i suspect it was roommate number 2 who was leaving open used! tampons in the bathroom trashcan. wrap that shit up! we did have a meeting about it, no one stepped forward, but i still have my suspicions...

I could go on and on forever about good ole roommate number 1 and 2, but who wants to hear about that? Well i guess if you didnt want to you wouldnt be reading this. So i guess there will have to be a second installment of the roommate memoirs. keep your seats folks, theres way more where this came from.

Oh just some real life snap chats sent to my friends that perfectly illustrate my struggles.

 this is real life







unfortunately

The First Installment

The College Memoirs

I've been in college for a little over 2 months now. I'm starting to develop a routine, among other things like split ends and a cold. But its all good. My biggest fear about college was not having anything to do, like not being involved, but that is not a problem. Im basically busy all day and if i have any free-time at all, i use it for sleeping. And yes, i sleep a lot-just ask my roommates.

Ahh, the roommates. I think i could write an entire novel already about the two girls i get to live with here at the big MU. Lets just say it is a completely other struggle within itself, and oh do not worry. I will be diving into that topic real soon. But first, college life.

College life is great. College life sucks. I love college life. College life is the worst thing to happen to me. College life is really beautiful. College life sucks ass. College life is such an emotional roller coaster for me right now that i dont know how i feel about it. Some days im like "hell yeah, this is great. i can do this." And other days Im like, "why the hell did i sign up for this. this isnt fun." Overall i give college life a rating of

I'll give it a chance

because 1) Im going to school on a full scholarship so it would be imprudent not to and 2) I usually hate everything at first, and then end up loving it.