I have a new apartment, which means a new shower. It’s surprising that such commonplace technology can vary so much from household to household. Moving in general is a lot like adjusting to the quirks of a new shower; everything’s pretty much like it was in my life before, but everything’s different at the same time. In particular, I’m thinking of how this applies to groups of friends. I felt like a motel guest for a while when I moved into my new place, but trying to adapt effectively has had unforeseen positive consequences, the least of which is a more exciting shower.
Blessed with height as I am, many showers only spray as high as my ribcage. I’ve also been in ones that have a high spigot but spray water down with only the pressure that gravity gives. I’ll be fair and say that many showers are perfectly sufficient and unremarkable, but my new one certainly makes itself known. It blasts a violent, painful pressure—you know, the feeling of a thousand needles attacking you. So far, I haven’t been able to figure out how to tone it down, and for days I couldn’t figure out how to moderate the temperature either. Each morning I was bombarded for a while and would finally emerge feeling very much like I’d just stepped out of a dishwasher.
For me, adjustment to my new shower has been symbolic of my adjustment to new roommates. I had great ones at my last apartment—one of my closest friends, in fact. The contract situation there was complicated, though, so I came to this nearby apartment complex. It was a step into the dark; I didn’t know a soul here. Thankfully, my roommates turned out to be great guys, and very friendly and welcoming. I’m excited to get to know them better.
It has turned out to be a bigger adjustment than I expected to become chums with this new group, though. Just like how showers vary in pressure, angle, or height, different groups of friends can have very different dynamics. For example, in high school, I had a great group of friends, and we hung out by making wacky home movies, playing HALO or RISK into the wee hours of the morning, and quoting Monty Python or Napoleon Dynamite. I can’t forget poop jokes—those were a big part of our style, too—and, I’ll add, we did them well. I miss those guys. I’ve hung out with my friends here at BYU by playing soccer, ultimate frisbee, cooking, and being each other’s wingman when interacting with girls. (My high school friends and I didn’t really interact with girls much, now that I think about it.)
Without leaving my earlier friends, I’ll get to know some new ones now. They’re not wrong, just different. I’ll admit, it’s a trick to balance “in with the new” with my honest self as I found it in the past.. But it’s an adventure, and I suspect I’ll be better off for it. After all, I don’t think I’ve ever come out of a shower cleaner than I have with “the Dishwasher.”
Exercise In Sight 