Friday, April 08, 2005

Campus Life at CCC

I decided I would live in the dorms for my first year of school for two reasons: 1. I figured it would be a good way to get the full college experience and 2. I didn't exactly have the time to start searching Chicago for an apartment. The thing about my school is that it's an urban campus, and the dorms are really just over-priced apartments where you aren't supposed to drink. I love living in the south loop, but my "dorm" feels more like a hotel, and I'm paying an exorbitant fee to share a tiny room with a stranger (well, actually I have a room to myself now due to a lovely twist of fate, but it's still cramped because of all the furniture in here). Granted I have a great view of the lake and the library, but this isn't the dorm experience I expected.

We do have some of the dorm standards though - the elevators suck and most of the stairwells are locked (if there's a fire I'm resigned to my fate), you can get a contact high walking through the hallway, and people do really dumb stuff.

I understand that us young ones do some crazy things from time to time, but I think a line was crossed the day my apartment door was beaned. Yes, that's right, it was beaned. I understand the concept of TPing somebody, but beaning them? It's just night right. If you're going to make beans then you should eat them, not waste them. And if you're going to waste food by throwing it at my door then pick something less abhorent than beans.

When I woke up my roommate told me there was weird junk on the door, when I finally decided to shower and move about, I opened the door to discover there were brownish-gray streaks running down our door. The streaks smelled horrible - horrible like beans.

Realizing the beans weren't going to clean themselves off the door and tired of being pissed off and nauseated every time I went in or out of the apartment, I grabbed a bucket of hot soapy water and a rag. I had to scrub our front door for at least 15 minutes to get most of the bean residue off all because somebody decided that the entry way to my home made a better final resting place for some refried beans than someone's digestive track.

I hope and I pray that I can find a building to live in next year where I am the one doing the stupid stuff.

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