As any high school student visiting Grounds finds out very quickly, just about all of us here at the University absolutely love it. We thrive on the atmosphere of stimulation and learning that fills this place, and Charlottesville has something to offer everyone, whether your taste runs more toward wine and a good play or light beer and a slasher film. The place feels like home, even though we have to work pretty hard and have the sleep habits of insomniac bats to prove it.
Of course, for most of us, it isn't home. Home is someplace else -- a place we're reminded of when we fill in a blank marked "Permanent Address" or when the parents call to ask us how many pairs of clean socks we're down to. And that place has its own unique charms, as well: our old beds, old friends and old surroundings. So, like the swallows of Capistrano, we do inevitably return home, and when we do, it turns out to be an experience like no other.
The first perk of coming home appears as soon as you hit the door: the red-carpet welcome from the parents. Thomas Haynes Bayly wrote "Absence makes the heart grow fonder," and I'm guessing he came up with that the first time he came home from college. Even if the only contribution you ever made to your household was to make it smell worse, your parents will still jump for joy when you return. After months of being greeted by one and all with an incline of the head and the word "Hey," a really energetic hug is downright refreshing. I enjoy this part so much that when I leave home again, I'll often double-back so I can come home one more time before I actually hit the road.
Home is also a prime place to get laundry done, which may not sound like a big deal to non-student readers, but is actually quite a lifesaver more often that not. There's just something about laundry that makes it more onerous than just about any other chore, especially when you're a first-year and the process involves rolling your laundry bag, like Sisyphus, to some other dorm. The quality of the work is also better by orders of magnitude. There's simply no comparison between the neat folding job my parents do and the twisted, perverse origami that results whenever I put my hands to a T-shirt.
Sleep also inevitably feels better at home. Part of this is probably a by-product of being farther away from papers, books and teachers' dirty looks, as the saying goes. It doesn't hurt, either, that one's own bed is likely to be a much better fit. There's something comical about how the University draws students from all over the country and puts them in beds long enough for Wilt Chamberlain. Whatever the reason, we tend to sleep like crazy when we go home, sometimes 14 to 16 hours a day. I know cocooned caterpillars who have more active lifestyles.
All of this isn't to say that there are no downsides or sources of friction when we go home. Scheduling is definitely a big issue. At home, bedtime might be around 11 p.m. or so, which is about when many of us have lunch. This often leads to comical moments when one or both parents come bounding down the stairs, possibly with a firearm, thinking that the house is being broken into, when it turns out to be nothing more than the kid raiding the fridge.
The food at home, too, can sometimes be a bit of a tough adjustment. It's likely to be more gourmet than dining hall food, if only because it isn't being prepared for thousands of people, but I personally can no longer enjoy salad unless it's in a pastel yellow bowl. And don't even try asking the parents to make an "apple cinnamon crispito." That term has no meaning once you get a couple miles out of Charlottesville.
Eventually, just as we've gotten used to going to bed earlier, it's time to go back down to school again. The farewells are always tearful, and we give our promises to return soon. I'm sure that, as we drive out of sight, our mothers and fathers wonder if we'll ever be back. But they needn't worry; in a couple weeks, we'll be out of socks again.
Matt's column runs biweekly on Tuesdays. He can be reached at mwaring@cavalierdaily.com.
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