Wednesday, September 29

Living Out the Dream

I’ve always been excited to get back to Bloomington each fall. This year I was especially anxious, knowing that a senior year of complete chaos and memories awaited me. What made me even more anxious was knowing that I would no longer be living at 441 N. Woodlawn, better known as Theta, but in my own house with five of my best friends. Finally, I’m a live out.

I didn’t always plan to live out as a senior. In fact, it wasn’t until I spent the summer after sophomore year living on my own that I really considered the idea. With a pass down live out two minutes away from Theta and many of my close friends living out, I saw an opportunity and took it. 420 Apt A would be my new residence.

And so far, living out of Theta and in 420 has been perfect. Don’t get me wrong, I had a great two years living in that mansion of a house and having no responsibility to cook or clean. I was blessed to know the pledge classes above and below me, an opportunity my friends at other schools never had. While I miss seeing some of my best friends’ faces multiple times through the day, I still feel welcome in the house. We can eat lunch at the house everyday, which saves me the effort of making a peanut butter and jelly and piece together the previous night at Kilroys with my friends.

Now, we have had some minor challenges. We spent days in the new house scrubbing floors and washing walls and still haven’t quite mastered our Smokey Joe grill. Our faucet makes a weird noise if its on too long and the smoke alarm goes off when cupcakes are baking, not burning. We recently came home to a weird smell in the kitchen. After several minutes of searching for the odor, we realized a spatula had fallen to the bottom of the dishwasher and melted completely in half.

Even with these complications, I wouldn’t trade living out for the world. It’s an experience, but I am independent. Let’s face it - I am 21 years old, and should be able to live by my own rules. I don’t have to eat dinner at 5:30 like a person in a nursing home and if I want to have a beer… or four… with dinner, I can. I have my own room with a full bed – a definite plus. We can host parties and pre games and stock our fridge with more alcohol than food. Our neighborhood is like a senior Frat Row, with Sigma Chi, Beta, AEPi, and Phi Psi close by. Boys can come over at any time of the day and I don’t get a $50 fine if it’s past 3 am. I’m living out the dream, and am finally on my own, without really being on my own. Mom is still buying my groceries.

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