Maybe dorm life did have its perks

As a resident of Claflin, Beebe, Severance, and Tower West, I always bemoaned the sorry existence of dorm living. The kitchens were small and filled with the messes of others, the showers were plagued by hairballs, and some portion of my floor or furniture would have an odd stain from an unknown and sinister source.

I now live in a cute little duplex apartment with two great friends, Suzi Claflin ’09 and Erin Fuller. We even have a little sitting area in the backyard where we rigged up some christmas lights and an mp3 player. I will likely never live in a dormitory again. But that doesn’t mean that apartment living is problem-free.

For one, I don’t have a real closet. Technically speaking, my room is equipped with a closet, but it is a one-foot deep indention in the wall with a bar screwed in place. It is too shallow to hang normal hangers, there is no door, and light shines through it from the kitchen because its construction was so obviously an afterthought.

This wouldn’t be a big deal, except that I have a job that requires business attire. I have to hang things, or risk being nicknamed Wrinkles (or something even less flattering). Feeling clever, I bought a freestanding wardrobe. Feeling less clever, I realized that it was too big to make the turn into my bedroom from the hallway. I now dress in the dining room every morning.

More recently, I attempted to clean the bathroom. I am not especially squeamish about bathroom cleaning, and I even pulled a handful of nasty hair and soap scum out of the drain. I figured that the whole process would be a total no-brainer, I expected nothing but praise and glory for my unselfishness — and maybe some kind of roommate of the year award. Instead, in trying to clean the drain, I managed to clog it to such an extent that Erin had to spend an afternoon with Drano and a plunger. It wasn’t my finest moment.

You see, the apartment is still very much a work in progress, as am I as a brand-new apartment dweller. I think I’ll make it, but it has definitely given me an appreciation for the “good old days” at the College.

– Anna, ’09 Secretary

Acne Agony

I stepped out of the shower this evening and, after I had grabbed my towel, I wasted five or ten minutes staring at myself in the mirror. This is not because I think I’m particularly lovely, but rather because over the past few months, beginning in January as my final Wintersession ended, I’ve developed acne.

Allow me to explain. All through high school, and most of college, my skin was clean and clear (pun intended). I was an object of loathing because of my lack of breakouts. While my friends avoided astronomers, fearful of jokes comparing them to various crater-ridden moons, I was blisfully pimple-free.

No more. Now there’s a swath of little red bumps that mar my forehead, and nothing I do can banish them for long. How is this possible? For heaven’s sake, I’ve graduated from college! Why is it that I seem to be regressing?

Before graduation, even before the start of senior year, I thought that leaving Wellesley would be the magical signal that would transform me into a Grown Up Person. After all, when you finish college you’re supposed to have a job, independence, confidence, the whole package. Instead, I’m writing a blog update from my old bedroom in my parents’ house, unable to find even temporary summer employment. I’m twenty one, almost twenty two, and I still feel like a child. I even look like one.

Perhaps these spots have been brought on by the stress that accompanies this pervasive feeling of failure. On the other hand, maybe they’re a reminder that, even though I’m back in the Real World, ostensibly a Grown Up Person, there is still a lot of room for growth. And maybe I should remember that growing, like everything else except instant coffee, takes time.

–Rose-Ellen, ’09 VP