First Year Focus

Parental Guidance Suggested

Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves. You are about to hear something so astonishing, so unusual, so shocking that you may not even be able to comprehend it.

I miss my parents.

Okay, I finally said it. It's out in the open now, and there's nothing I can do about it. Mom and Dad are sorely needed up here.

I started to realize that something was wrong when the cheese from my nachos stuck to my favorite plate, and despite a washing harsh enough to erode a mountainside, it still wouldn't come off. Detergent, hot water, Brenda the housing management lady - none of it seemed to help. Mom would know what to do, I thought. Too late now.

Then there was the first time I did laundry... and the second time... and the third... I have this haunting fear that somehow my brights are going to bleed onto my whites, even if they're in separate washing machines. And since I've been changing clothes four times a day up here (two showers, one workout at the gym, plus pajamas), the laundry has a tendency to pile up. Though my friend on the hall assured me that a blue towel and a white bathrobe would get along just fine, I just couldn't be sure. But Mom would know.

Earlier today, I was desperate to fix my computer. AOL wouldn't work, which presented a small problem since I had to send this very column to the College Online gurus of electronic publishing. Dad could have fixed this in a heartbeat, I found myself saying. (Then he would have taken the computer to play Solitaire instead of letting me use it, but that's irrelevant.) Of course, I found out that I just hadn't plugged in my modem connection well enough. Dad shouldn't have missed that either. He would have been ready to laugh about it at any time.

It's not just the household chores aspect of my parents that I miss. Naturally, there are a lot of dilemmas to face up here, and while I can't say that I'm used to telling my parents every little detail of my life, sometimes I miss their advice. (Not that I would necessarily take it.)

And when I run into the somewhat godlike basketball players at the gym, or I ace a calculus quiz, or I see a really great concert, I want to run and tell them. But I can't, except via e-mail.

That at least has been one of the good things about leaving my parents - it has forced my mom to learn the intricacies of e-mail, which means that the e-mailbox is always crowded with little notes from home. No, really, I've gotten numerous letters consisting of "Hi. Just wanted to say hi." But it's nice to know that they're thinking of me, and hey, who am I to complain? For all my friends know, I'm getting massive amounts of e-mail from buddies back home instead of my parents.

So maybe the situation isn't that bad after all. I've got to admit, the idea of them coming up to visit isn't that comforting, since that means they'll have to view my messy room in all its trashed glory. And I'm learning to survive on my own - at least now I know how to successfully rid a plate of crusty leftover cheese!

I just wish I had known beforehand that this was the education I would receive away from home.