Best Part of Living Alone: Never Having to Wear Pants

I just recently moved into a new apartment and am living alone for the first time. I was really proud of myself in general, but mostly because I was able to afford the good cable package so that I get all the movie channels plus Nat Geo and the Lifetime Movie Network.

I immediately hate myself after that last sentence.

Everyone always asks if I hate living alone. Are you people high? If so, I’m jealous..but seriously, why would I hate living alone?? All I ever do is whatever the fuck I want. No, I don’t get lonely – who could EVER be lonely with Nat Geo and Lifetime?!

Also, I’m not totally alone because one of my very best friends from high school lives in the building across the street, and he’s Native American so not only does he give me instant street cred but he’s also super useful when it snows and I don’t want to dig my car out or if I run out of vodka and am too drunk to drive to the store to get more. He keeps saying things like he ‘won’t be around forever’ and ‘I need to do things on my own’.


Some of my favorite things about living alone:

1. I never have to put pants on. Anyone who knows me knows I hate pants. I think they’re for guys and the homeless. I am always in either a skirt, dress or leggings if I HAVE to. (P.S leggings aren’t pants and if you think they are then you probably also think it’s acceptable to wear tights with open toed shoes. It’s not.)


2.  There’s no one to pass judgement or question my awful decisions when I decide to cut out solids for the week, meet up with that bad idea of a guy I had finally cut loose last month or watch 4 back-to-back Lifetime movies on the couch.

3. Feeling independent. Sometimes, I’m kind of clueless. It’s not my fault that I didn’t know you’re supposed to get your car inspected, turn off the gas when you’re done cooking or NOT cut open the bag of frozen broccoli and cheese then dump it into the boiling water but instead leave it INSIDE of the plastic casing to cook as one (p.s. Mom – if you’re reading this, stop buying frozen vegetables with cheese sauce. We have a garden in the back yard and we’re not Honey Boo Boo).

I will say, however, that I do miss a lot of the roommates I’ve had the pleasure of living with in the past. My first roommate was my little sister and I don’t really miss that because she stole my clothes and ratted me out to my mom when I had a dentist appointment which is my worst fear (Reference: the Lifetime original movie ‘I Woke up Pregnant’, you’ll never get a cavity filled again).


College was fun because if it weren’t for my roommates then how else would I know that the Papa John’s delivery guy brought me home from the bar. Again. I lived with a boyfriend for a while, that was okay but boring because all he did for three years was watch Law & Order and eat Hamburger Helper (not my best relationship). 

Then came the Southie years…with my cousin’s now wife and Mary who is more of a sister then a friend. Seriously, I remind her daily that she in fact, is not my friend. We use to save quarters and walk to Stop and Shop to buy deli pickles, stare out the window to watch trashy Southie couples fight in the street and hit parked cars, you get the picture: great couple of years. Then I moved to Malden where I had two of the best roommates ever because they cooked for me and were totally cool with me always being drunk, eating Wendy’s and passing out mid-conversation because I took too many Ambien – love you guys, mean it.


Sooo long story short: living alone is great and everyone should do it at some point in their life.  You can literally get drunk while naked and eating ice cream, watching trash TV and making the Native American across the street do your packy runs.

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