Living off campus has made me realize a lot of things that I took for granted when I was growing up in Framingham, or living in the dorms. I’ve learned such important life lessons that, like my mom told me all these years, “dishes don’t clean themselves!” and, “Clothes aren’t cleaned by the cleaning fairy.”

The past two years were spent in John Quincy Adams in Southwest (hey, at least I ducked out before all these stupid changes). Even there, I could use as many dishes as I wanted, and make as big of a mess as I deemed necessary, although not in my room which served as my living room, bedroom, dining room, and on long, lonely nights, my bathroom.

However, here is a list of things that I miss from not living back home in Framingham.

My home in Framingham doesn’t have “that smell” that my apartment in Amherst has. The source of this smell: unknown.

In Framingham, I always have milk. This milk always has a liquid consistency; there are no chunks and no smell. And I learned another important life lesson: if you leave milk out in a glass for three days, it takes twice as long to get the smell out of your kitchen table after the glass spills.

Note to self: Before turning on the heater, check to make sure your Playstation 2 controllers are NOT on it. A sharp knife cleans up said controller very nicely.

I miss a kitchen floor that is never sticky. For about three months, my apartment here has a square foot of eternal stickiness. This stickiness refuses to go away, regardless of what products are spewed upon it.

Here, in my living room, there is a couch that is classified as “the sex couch.” If you turned all the lights off and ran a black light over this couch, it would resemble the back of a Dalmatian.

I miss clean toilets and showers. The back of our shower would astound modern scientists. I think we can probably grow something back there. As I shower, I frequently look behind me to make sure nothing is going to bite me. It only happened twice so far.

Note to self: Bottle caps and tabs to beer will break a disposal.

However, don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy living in my apartment with my two roommates. And to prove it, here’s why it’s better living in Amherst.

I don’t think my mom would approve of the Playboy on the back of our toilet. Whoops.

You gotta love the sex couch. I mean, that thing has more action than a Schwarzenegger flick. Or, in this case, a Jenna Jameson flick. Whichever you prefer.

You don’t have as many options for ordering food or eating out here that I have as home. I swear, I’m putting Bruno’s kids through college. Also, we’ve had more Wings at my place than the runway at Logan.

Back home, I don’t think I could keep my fridge the way I do here. I have to adapt to the life I’ve been accustomed to. We have more Bud in there then Snoop Dogg has in his living room. And we use different varieties. Bud Light, Budweiser, bottles, cans, etc. We don’t discriminate. We love all types of beer!

My house in Framingham is too predictable. After a party at my place, the most enjoyable part is the morning after. I walk downstairs and I see a half dozen or so people passed out on the floor, pull out sofa and, yes, the infamous sex couch. Out of these half dozen or so people, I tend to actually know half of them. When a person asks who I am and I say the owner of the floor you just slept on, the look on his face is priceless.

You’ve got to love college. It’s now time for me to go and make my dinner, which will consist of Easy Mac, flat soda, and mashed potatoes from a box. Only the best for me!

Matt Elder is a Collegian columnist