I’m a 21-year-old female college student working two crap jobs in the city to pay for a hole in the ground apartment, and I live with boys. All boys. Three boys. One. Two. Three. It’s safe to say my life is far from "regular college student". In fact, it's as far from “typical college girl” as it can be.
For example, I don’t wear yoga pants or drink "skinny" vanilla lattes from Starbucks, wear work-out clothes to look cute, or get tans to be more appealing. I wear all black regular tees, listen to music that ranges from new age underground to folk to rap, I drink tea like an old soul during brunch and wear combat boots religiously. I live with boys.
Not one day is the same; living with boys can both simplify and complicate things. In my case, my boys do both, day by day. Monday could start with a fresh cup of coffee; rich and sweet, but by Friday I’m in need of minor therapy and a bottle of wine. Living with boys should be a job that requires five years of experience and a Masters degree in Craft Beer and Spirits.
Being the only girl in a small apartment full of boys can get really gritty and grimy fast: beer cans everywhere, the toilet seat left up and a sink full of dishes covered in some foreign substance, unknown to human kind, that no one is willing to tackle until we are left eating with our hands instead of silverware.
Even though there can be dark things, darker than the fall of the Renaissance or during the French Revolution when Marie Antoinette said “Qu'ils mangent de la brioche,” ("Let them eat cake"), there can also be great things. Really great things. I’ve never had to worry about someone using my shower gel or razor, there’s always someone up for watching a gory movie, I’m a pro at Flip Cup and Beer Pong, and the word "drama" no longer exists in my life––GREAT things.
Living with boys brings a new perspective to everyday things like breakfast, which can either be a full course meal made up of bacon, eggs, toast, pancakes, and sausage, or it could be a cup of coffee with a shot of whiskey. Both'll get you through rough mornings. Boys come up with the most ridiculous ways to fix things that are broken, the go-to fixer being duct tape. With all this, a day hasn’t gone by where I haven’t had a good laugh.
In short, living with boys is a roller coaster: the good, the bad, and the ugly all-in-one. Though it is definitely not for everyone––I'd say only the strong of heart and those with iron stomachs can handle it––I’ve been living with boys for two-and-a-half years and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
