Not only did that happen to me, but it happened to all of my roommates. All four of us missed the same critical part of life.
You can tell the second you step into our room.
Somehow, we all missed the magical moment where girls just inherently know how to make their living space home-y, chic, and/or cute.
Maybe it’s because we spend too much of our time on Pinterest looking at Myers-Briggs charts and not enough time looking at dorm rooms. Maybe it’s because we aren’t crafty.
We now have seven superhero posters: one Marvel, six DC. (We have very strong opinions on the Marvel vs. DC debate.) Above our snack shelf is a dartboard. Next to Melvin the Drunk Christmas Tree, we have a light-up Christmas reindeer that was stolen from one of the frat houses. Recently, we bought a large TV, which, immediately after setting up, we used to watch Youtube videos about llamas wearing hats.
We call our dorm The Mancave.
There is no “woman’s touch” to our room. It’s more like a slap on the back.
The only relatively feminine aspect of the room is a collage of canvases featuring our sorority. (They look particularly out-of-place next to our poster of the Joker.)
It may not be the cutest dorm on campus. (In fact, it definitely isn’t.) But it’s a place we can put our feet up at the end of the day, crack open a soda, and watch all of the “Superman” movies, including the bad ones.
And in a weird sort of way, it fits us. It’s quirky, eclectic, nerdy, and one-of-a-kind.
And, most importantly, we love our Mancave. To us, it’s home. It’s perfect.
Or, it will be, as soon as we get some well-stuffed recliners. And our Xbox.