The Minor Domestic Trials of Student Life

It's almost end of our first term back at beloved RU, meaning it is also nearly the end of my first few months living in my own little flat. I was not worried about living in digs. My parents raised my brother and I to be pretty independent people. We can both cook and do the washing and drive bikes and generally take care of ourselves, even so there have been some rather comical moments and mishaps. 

Today I made burgers and chips for lunch. Usually I do my chips in the oven, but this time I decided to branch out and deep fry them in a pot of hot oil. This failed epically for several reasons. First, I made the oil far too hot, this led to problem number two. You know how these days you get these amazing plastic and rubber cooking utensils that can apparently withstand the heat of a thousand burning suns? Well I am here to call their bluff, because while using my supposedly magical and all-powerful heat resistant cooking utensil to make my chips... it melted. 

I feel betrayed, I may never trust again.

I will also admit to drunkenly trying out my can-opener on a wine glass (may it rest in peace). Why? I don't know, it seemed like a good idea at the time and honestly, I feel that I learned from the experience. Everyone listen up now while i share my wisdom; can-openers do not open wine glasses.

Now this next one, thankfully, doesn't involve me embarrassing myself in a moment of intoxication, or being let down by my scumbag, deceitful kitchen utensils. It involves two of my good friends stripping for the neighborhood. My Flat has amazing big windows and a sliding door in the lounge from floor-to-ceiling. It looks out onto one of Grahamstown's busiest streets. These two friends of mine crashed on my sleeper couch one weekend and for some reason kept forgetting about the previously mentioned big-ass, all-revealing windows. Needless to say there were some very happy high school boys who managed to catch a glimpse of their impromptu strip tease while walking past my building.

Embarrassing mishaps aside, I'm loving having my own place. I guess melting pasta spoons, breaking wine glasses and providing underage boys with unintentional peep shows are all part of the digs experience. Except maybe that last one.

That's all for now,
stay exceptional 


For your viewing pleasure, some pics of my now horribly disfigured pasta spoon: