Flying the Coop

But all of us have to do it at some point. So what do we do? We try and prepare ourselves. We try and learn to cook, clean, pay bills, watch grocery prices, play the sales game, and so on. I scored a free barbecue that works fine, and am learning to cook just about any kind of meat on it so I can survive. I’ve even got a solution to the winter BBQ problem: garage barbecues! Provided I don’t die from the propane fumes, or the big-ass flames that this thing shoots out when I light it, I may just live long enough to get home for Thanksgiving in a few months. That said, I think I’ve managed to scrape together some meandering notes that could possibly help others in similar situations, and, am willing to share what little knowledge I have to help those less fortunate (and so I can make myself feel smarter than somebody else, yay!).

Make nice with your parents: It’s definitely hard to play nice with your parents if you’ve been living at home all summer after experiencing the sheer joy and exhilaration of college life for the past year. All you have to do is set aside all of that and listen to the crazy shit they did when they moved out. Cheap is the key word here. Ask them “how can I do (insert food/activity/situation here) as cheaply as possible?” and chances are they have some neat little trick for you. On the other hand, if you’ve just asked them a stupid question, you might be in trouble and have just been grounded. My bad.

Test that shit out: Have you just learned something new you plan to put into use in your new place of residence? TEST THAT SHIT OUT, son. Think that new recipe for pork and rice will save you enough cash to buy that 6-pack? You better make damn sure you can do it without giving yourself salmonella or the clap. Like Confucius say: He who tests his knowledge, has straighter path to enlightenment. (Note: I have never read Confucius’ teachings.)

Double-check your inventory: So, you’ve got yourself a desk, some shelves, maybe even a bed and a couch you rescued from the side of the road. Not bad. Just be sure to have a use for your new collection of furniture and cookware. I’ve been overloaded by family members trying to give me everything from turkey dishes to oven-racks that keep oven-cooked meals warm. Sure, you accept them to be polite, but chances are if you ever use your oven, it's going to be for some drunken prank that ends with an empty fire extinguisher. Deep down you know these items will eventually become a part of a massive beer funnel or thrown somewhere for some reason (I can’t read the future, you know).

Get what you really need: Find out what you need to live, and what you can live without. The basics are: Food, beer, heat, water, rent, Internet (VERY important), phone, electricity, and maybe cable TV (if you can manage to steal it, but that’s another article…). All the rest are simply frivolous purchases. That lap dance over at the strip club across the street? Nope. That cab ride back home because you were too damn lazy to walk? Nope. Every single book on your course manual? What are you, a freshman? Just get what you need, and allocate the rest for alcohol and the necessities. Okay, maybe one lap dance. But don't overtip the bitch.

Get a job: Now that you are going to live on your own, you need a job. Sure, you’ve held some decent jobs before, maybe even some sweet ones at that. But this time, it’s your livelihood at stake. Never before have you had to find a job that basically predicts how the next year of your life will turn out. Go on the hunt. Be a freakin’ Predator (those things beat the shit out of the Aliens, imagine them looking for a job), and get yourself a job that can allow you to have some dirty bad fun once in a while. And if that isn’t enough, you have to get a decent paying job (because odds are you didn’t save quite as much of your summer paychecks as you had planned, right?). Anything around minimum wage will guarantee you being absent from every social function on campus, because you will work the worst shifts imaginable.

Well, that’s all I have. If I even managed to sound coherent, then my job here is done. Although I don’t actually have a job here, but that’s not the damn point you nosey little fuck. It’s late, and I have to get to my shitty telemarketing job so I can save for rent.