Tonight my housemate Rachel started a list. It began, "I like living in a house because...I don't have to eat real meals only when Usdan and Sherman are open." It seems she needs written proof to convince herself that living off campus isn't really that bad. My housemates and I all agreed to help her in this endeavor, so here is my first addition: I like living in a house because...I no longer have to wear shower shoes in the shower and I even get my own shelf in the shower.I hope that helps, Rachel, but just in case it doesn't, I'll try to convince you even further. I admit when I first saw my worse-than-awful housing lottery number last year, I freaked out. Granted, I was abroad, and the idea of living in a cardboard box seemed more feasible than securing some kind of housing from France. But fortunately, my dearest Rachel came to the rescue and found us a house.

When I first saw this house this past summer it was nothing but a bunch of walls and some unfinished wood floors. I wondered how this place could ever feel like home, but this house, this cute little yellow and brick house, has since become our reality. We take pride in every aspect of it, from the shower curtain to placing our names on our mailbox.

Not living on campus, we now have major responsibilities when it comes to our living situation, many of which I despise. I hate bills, taking out the garbage is quite possibly the worst chore ever and leaving extra early to make sure I get to class on time doesn't jibe with my problem of chronic lateness.

I've also learned quickly that I must take an active role in my social life if I still want it to exist. Unlike dorm life, which fosters constant mingling and news of on-campus happenings, living off campus is isolating and no one can just "stop by" to share what's going on or drag you out. I am the first to admit that the idea of staying in with my housemates and being lazy often is much more enticing than making the effort to formulate plans.

Meals are another issue. I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'm suffering from Sherman withdrawal. Trust me, it's not the food I miss (except, possibly, the make-your-own-waffles), but rather the ease with which I was provided with my meals. Dining halls require no food shopping, no cooking, no washing dishes and no eating alone (unless of course you choose to). Although I love to cook on a leisurely basis, the effort it requires to prepare daily meals is downright daunting.

But despite these downfalls, I think living off campus was the right choice for me (and I hope after this article you'll agree, Rachel). As a senior, I'll admit that I'm terrified of graduation. I know it's only September, but the persistent question, "What are you planning on doing next year?" has become more sinister to me than my mother telling me to clean my room. I'm not ready to leave my comfortable cocoon of college for this thing they call the real world.

So, to make myself feel better, I've started to think of our cute little house as my practice run for the post-college years. It's the perfect situation, if you think about it. I can slowly ease myself into real world responsibilities, but I still have the option of running back to the comfort of a college campus, if necessary. I can try cooking dinner, but if it tastes more like foam rubber than chicken cutlets, Sherman will welcome me and my Who-cash with open arms. As isolated as I can get in my house, once I drive onto campus, I know I will run into many friends and acquaintances.

It's also comforting to know that I'm not alone in one of my first real world experiences. My three other housemates are just as apprehensive as me, but being able to share our fears with each, other while at the same time reveling in our newfound independence has made this new experience even more enriching. I love that we can eat food we prepared ourselves while discussing an itemized bill we just don't understand. Although it still astonishes me how mature we can sound, I am starting to get used to the idea that we are responsible and capable adults.

The truth is, it often feels like we're playing this never-ending imaginary game of house. I sometimes think someone is going to walk in and tell us that the game is over, but this belief that, perhaps, our house is just a figment of our imaginations is quickly fading. Our segue into the real world is almost as real as the real world will be. So, Rachel, add this to the list: I like living in a house because...it means we're growing up, but we don't have to do it alone.