Unfortunate Fact #3- Grocery Shopping

I am one of those people that do not mind spending a ton of cash on food. While some people ask why, I say "why not?" Sure, nice clothes are fun to buy, and a new car would be pretty sweet, but instant gratification in the form of an awesome meal can't be beat. In step with this mindset, I am obsessed with takeout. I think nothing of it to come home and order a $20 meal that will be at my door in 30 minutes or less.

That was until, of course, I had bills to pay. Now, $20 dinners are more of a luxury than they were before I had to pay for cable. With my bank account hemorrhaging funds, I am forced to face a grim reality: I am officially a grocery shopper. Yeah yeah yeah, I finally admit it. You DO save money by cooking your own food. But you all mark my words: this is a temporary situation. I WILL return to my takeout ways once I am no longer a poor college student. So watch out.

Until then, I suggest to you a way to counteract the horrors of grocery shopping.  Fairway Supermarket located on Broadway and 74th really lives up to its reputation. As much as I wanted to hate it, it really is an experience you have to try at least once in your life. The prices are obscenely cheap,the selection is unmatched, and the place is like a lawless society. People turn into absolutely savages when they walk through the doors. Trying to avoid being run down by a shopping cart (I like to call them "hell on wheels") really spices up having to grocery shop. Plus, I secretly admit that sometimes I cheat and buy the prepared meals. I SWEAR IT'S STILL CHEAPER THAN TAKEOUT!

Check it out. It's truly an adventure. We might as well make the best out of things until we're rich enough to own our own delivery man. Dare I say, it takes the unfortunate out of grocery shopping?

Unfortunate Fact #2: Bedbugs along my commute

It was widely reported this week that the Manhattan Bedbug Epidemic of 2010 has reached Lincoln Center, an unsettling revelation for someone who passes by every day. What is a commuter to do? The natural answer would be "nothing, don't be a hypochondriac." But for me, altering my commute is the only option.

Since the news hit, I have tried to avoid passing by Lincoln Center at all costs, which means that West End and Amsterdam Avenues have become my new routes. Funny thing though: the happy bookstores, restaurants, and cupcake shops that litter Columbus don't translate to this new western route. Instead, West End is scattered with nursing homes and high rise condos in a scene that looks downright apocalyptic. And don't get me started on Amsterdam: the only thing exciting on the whole avenue is the sleeping  (often open-mouthed) security guard at the front desk of the public library.



No thanks. I miss my street food vendors and 30-something yuppies eating Magnolia too damn much to trade it in for the barren wasteland that is "East New Jersey." Do you know they actually have car dealerships on West End? Nope. Not for me. I guess I'll take my chances with the bed bugs. At least they are self-respecting New Yorkers.

Unfortunate Fact #1: The consequences of a fussy alarm clock.

Here's a little nugget I never considered: the mad rush to class when you've overslept your alarm. While living in the dorms, this phenomenon was a regular part of the week. I never batted an eye at running through the halls, in my pajamas, to my 8:30 class. "Just another stupid freshman" was never a title I avoided.


But you know what's unfortunate about living off-campus? The faulty alarm clock (I swear I didn't screw up A.M. and P.M.) is a lot more dangerous now. Found this one out my first week of classes. (Don't start-- I'm a senior.) As I fast walked like some crippled bank robber down West End avenue, I suddenly realized that living off-campus isn't really as cool as it seems. I mean, I had my first doubts when I caught myself talking with my coffee-pot because I was becoming bored with talking to myself, but this was the first real re-consideration that carried with it tangible consequences. 


It wasn't until I got to school that I realized that the gig was up. I was 45 minutes late, and I officially accepted defeat. It was then, at that sad moment, that I admitted to myself that living off-campus comes with the responsibility of being punctual. Guess living on my own requires a reliable alarm clock. 


And that's pretty unfortunate.