It’s been a week of little learning experiences and financial adventures, filled with questions like, “Why does the push tab on the Mac & Cheese box always crumple instead of actually working?” and, “Can I actually afford to eat healthy food, or am I to be forced to eat rice and frozen pizza for the next four years?”
The hobbit hole is starting to feel a little more like home. I dumped all my clothes on the floor a few days ago, and bang, presto! A magical transformation from barren bedroom to my cozy place! I’ve rearranged every single piece of furniture in the apartment, twice. I’ve popped popcorn and watched Gilmore Girls and listened to Band of Skulls and Simon and Garfunkel to my heart’s content. Yesterday was the first day where I woke up and, halfway through my stumble towards the hot water pot for some tea, realized I felt like I belonged. I celebrated by baking cookies.
Speaking of which, I’ve discovered something delightful, of which I’m duly ashamed. Store-bought. Frozen. Cookie dough. Oh my goodness. Is it terrible for you and made from unethical ingredients? Very likely. Is it lazy and worse than the made-from-scratch variety? Absolutely. Do I have any regrets? None at all. It’s the best, most delicious, spirit-lifting snack I’ve had since I moved in, and I love it. I suppose it’s ok baked, too.
Among other blunders, I’ve been taking cold showers for a week, under the impression that my water heater was broken. It wasn’t. It was switched off. My misadventures this week have been many, each more ridiculous than the last. Here’s just a few:
Cold Shower Contention – No less than three freezing showers, all because I couldn’t find the flip switch or get in contact with my landlady.
Spatula Search – My spatulas have a tendency to fly out of my hand and disappear, leaving mess on the floor. I’ve found them in the sink, under the fridge, and on the kitchen chairs.
The Disappearing Keys – They’ve gone missing more times than I care to count. I’m getting a handle on this, after a month of frustrated last minute hunting sessions.
Attack of the Macaroni – I somehow managed to drop half a strainer full of macaroni noodles on my stove and floor fifteen minutes before my landlady showed up.
Nearly Mashed – While biking down Princess St., the driver in front of me decided to come to a sudden and complete stop in the middle of the road for no apparent reason, and very nearly plastered me and the car behind me on their rear window.
Dislocation Disaster – Somehow, my thumb joint, wrist, elbow, and shoulder dislocated at nearly the same time. Don’t ask me how. I have no idea. I was lying on the couch, writing an article in my head, and when I moved to get up… my entire arm was a painful mess. This resulted in me having to fix all of the joints in a row, and then passing out on the floor, feeling nauseous, and spending half an hour on the couch as a result. This has never happened to me before, and freaked me out, as you can imagine.
Roommate Races – “You’re too far from campus.” “Can I bring my dog, even though you said no pets?” “Sorry, I think you’re too young to live with.” “Hey, I know I’m a dude and that you posted women only on your ad, but can I live with you?” “I’m transferring. Can I live with you for half of the rate you’re asking?” “Yo, chick. I know you said no guys, but if you change your mind, I’d be a sweet roommate!” “You don’t have a TV? Are you going to get one? Ok, I’ll go somewhere else.”
The roommate search has been resolved, as of this morning. An exchange student from Norway will be staying with me for the fall semester. I’m looking forward to having her!
School starts early next month, my fellow Class of 2019 students moving into dorms and starting Orientation Week. I’m a little skeptical of Orientation Week, but I’m attending anyway. It seems like it doesn’t take itself seriously and will end up being a rah-rah crazy-freshmen-on-their-first-trip-away-from-home party. The chant is what’s making me skeptical:
We got Spirit! Ya, ya, we got Spirit! Ya, ya we got awesome spirit let me hear it,
Cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer We got Frosh! Ya, ya, we got Frosh! Ya, ya we got cool Frosh totally lost,
Cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer We got Gaels! Ya, ya, we got Gaels! Ya, ya we got great Gaels, shakin’ their tails,
Cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer We got OCs! Ya, ya, we got OCs! Ya, ya we got Hot OCs, totally toasty
Cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer We got Chairs! Ya, ya, we got Chairs! Ya, ya we got Sweet Chairs, people who cares,
Cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer We got Adam! Ya, ya, we got Adam! Ya, ya we got Adam Sage, he’s all the rage,
Cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer
We got cool Frosh totally lost, cheer x 8.
So much for respectability and old school tradition, let alone the ability to write a coherent chant. I’ll go anyway. I have a feeling I’ll regret it when I’m old and looking for things to regret if I don’t.But are the odd coveralls really necessary? And how important is school spirit, really, in the grand scheme of things? I need to work on this. But it is bugging me how the other students I talk to are acting like they’ll be here for the rest of their adult lives. It’s just a few years. Queen’s University is not my end all be all. Heck, I’m already planning my next trip for when I graduate.
I’m thinking of cycling across the States and back. What do you think?