Whenever I explain my sophomore year people are so taken back when I say, "Yeah, I lived with one of my really good guy friends". They immediately look at my mother like she is some type of monster for letting her little girl live with a male. I mean heaven forbid, right? It's impossible that a male and a female with a platonic relationship could ever coexist in the same four walls and make it work, like how do people even do it? Because yes, when my mom's friends ask me, "How on earth, Ally?!" I want to say, "I'm so excited for your daughter to go to college, live with her "best friend" and call you crying every day because she's miserable and realized best girl friends SHOULD NOT live together". Instead, I simply say it was the best year of my life.
I'm unsure if living with my best guy friend screamed "home" because we were equally messy. Our room was a constant state of level 10 disaster with clothes, sheets, clean clothes and various beer cans thrown all around the place. It was a sanctuary though, and after a long night of drinking or an exam that put me on my ass, I knew I could always crawl back into my bed with messed up sheets and one pillow to make it all better. Or maybe it was the fact that we were never low on alcohol or grilled cheeses. Living with girls, everyone is always on a "diet" which means no carbs, and quite frankly I don't know how people live without cheese and tequila. But our pantry was always filled with loaves of bread, cheese, liquor and limes; the perfect breakfast, lunch, or dinner.
The hardest part was definitely sharing the bathroom, because boys do not grasp the concept of "air freshener" and every time my roommate left the bathroom it was a war zone for 35 minutes. But I could always count on him to steal my towel when I was in the shower, dump a cup of freezing cold water on me, or -my personal favorite- throw a stink bomb in the bathroom and then lock the door from the outside- ahhh, good times.
But my favorite part of living with guys was the sense of community the apartment entailed. Everyone knew it was the place to go. It was pre game and post game central, always stocked with tequila for before we went out and Canyon pizza for when we came home. If there were ever any less than 4 people getting ready in that apartment at a time, something was wrong. It was the place people came in the middle of the day to take a nap, and sometimes I would come home and not even know who was sleeping on my couch. Multiple times I came home to random girls passed out in my bed because they swore my roommate "loved them" and wanted them there. The apartment was a safe place, where you were never judged for pre-gaming too hard, or for bringing home a 9 at night and waking up with a 4. You were never judged for spilling the beer you shotgunned, because you had to lick it up, and it was a place where you could proudly post your accomplishments.
So, for anyone going into your sophomore year, or even your junior or senior year- try living with your guy best friend. I promise you'll be treated like one of the guys and it will open your eyes up to a brand new living experience. There is never a fight over who gets the bedroom because guys don't care, and they also won't care when you leave your coffee cup on the counter for 2 months. Its a judge free zone, a fun zone, a "I drank too much and couldn't make it past the pre game zone" (trust me on this one).