Burnt Bacon= Game Day Ragin'

What's the best night of the week? In Ann Arbor, it's Saturday morning. Complete with "dancing and singing and moving' to the grooving'", and white boys playing funky music at every frat, house, apartment, and tailgate. The city is a sea of maize, blue, and dazed and confused students sporting red solo cups filled with the finest Crystal Palace has to offer. Nothing beats the feeling of cheering for "The team the team the team" with 100,000 of your closest friends.

However, here at The Stumble Inn, we begin our game days with brunch. Complete with chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, mimosas (when the guys from down the street feel like showing up), and even sometimes bacon. What is breakfast without bacon? Nothing, apparently, because last weekend when I burnt the bacon for our Game Day brunch, I could have sworn I saw a tear or two.

When it comes to me and cooking, things never seem to go right. Most things I cook either end up burnt, in flames, on the floor, or spit out (I have pizza delivery on speed dial at this point). Not to say I don't try, I do. I just don't think I was made to use kitchen appliances. So when I was put in charge of the bacon half-way through brunch last weekend, needless to say I was already a little nervous. Things were going well at first. I flipped the bacon when I was suppose to which is an achievement in itself. However, the story comes to a sad ending when we smelled burning food ten minutes later. The bacon was black, and the smoke almost set off the fire alarm (hence the above photo of the tray of bacon cooling off outside). Once again, food 1, Cheyenne 0.

The next brunch we made, my roommates joked that I was not allowed to even put the bacon in the oven, and when I went home (to West Bloomfield) for a Jewish Holiday a few days before that, my family was hesitant to allow me to help prepare the food for family dinner. And to be honest, I am truly okay with this for now. I may need a break from the world of cooking, and I have enough skill to prepare food well enough to sustain my life.  Steamed vegetables are now microwaveable, pasta is easy to concoct, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are always a staple.

What is important to remember is that without failing a few times, you will never experience getting back up and trying again. My saga of cooking stories may never end with my appearance on "Top Chef", but they remind me that challenges in life can be fun. Although it is frustrating when my meat isn't cooked though all the way (or cooked too much), I know that there is always something else to try to cook, or always a restaurant that will deliver straight to my door.

Viewing challenges as something inspiring rather than hindering is one of the best ways to apply optimism. When it comes to college (and life for that matter), challenges are plenty. Whether it be applying to a leadership position, writing a paper, or maneuvering a computer program, it's important for us to remember that we need to support and help each other when it comes to our weaknesses. Even if it may just be cooking a chicken breast.

And in the end, isn't burnt bacon just a metaphor for game days in Ann Arbor? Smoking, sizzling, and ready for another one? Game days will always have a special place in the heart of Michigan fans, and burnt bacon will always have a special place at the Stumble Inn, as long as I am a resident.

Meet the Roomies: Lindsay

Everyone say hi to Lindsay! Lindsay is a junior in the engineering school at The University of Michigan. Not only is she studying engineering, but she is studying nuclear engineering! Woah! Yes, Lindsay is smart. Very smart. Not only is Lindsay smart when it comes to school. But she is smart when it comes to life. Lindsay knows that people should be treated with respect and kindness, and that no one is better than anyone else.

Lindsay is the type of person you meet and instantly want to be friends with because of her genuine interest in the lives of others. She's a good listener, which in turn makes her an even better friend. There have been plenty of times I have noticed myself venting to Lindsay about my life and my problems, not even realizing the things I am saying. However, being around Lindsay is comfortable, and she knows how to make someone feel lucky, happy, and included. She is willing to do what it takes to make her friends feel great, and that is why we love her.

The first time I met Lindsay was outside of the student union on campus. She was in the midst of choosing which sorority to pledge, and couldn't have been any more calm about it. While almost every other girl around us was in tears or screaming or hugging each other due to nerves, Lindsay stood there in her sneakers and jeans with her hands in her pockets, a huge smile on her face, asking if I wanted to go to Buffalo Wild Wings to get food. It was at this moment I knew Lindsay would be a fun one.

And I was right. Although she spends a lot of time working and studying, Lindsay knows how to have fun. Whether it be tailgating a football game or dancing at a fraternity house, Lindsay knows that at the end of the day, she doesn't need to take herself too seriously. While I'm not sure she knows it, I'm pretty sure her secret motto is 'work hard, play hard'.

Meet the Roomies: Lauren

Her parents call her Lauren, I call her Roomie. Lauren is a junior in the Ross School of Business at The University of Michigan. Lauren and I were introduced by our mutual best friend (Ellie) at a Taylor Swift concert when we were 15. We were friendly through high school, but decided to make our friendship official during high school senior spring break in Mexico, when Lauren and I decided to become freshman year room mates at the University of Michigan.

While Lauren and I are opposite when it comes to many things, we are perfect room mates, and even better best friends. She's the sass to my sweet and the brunette to my blonde. She put up with my massive collection of clothes, pink and sparkles in our dorm room (she's a saint for doing that). We still have crushes on Disney princes and are always willing to open a can of frosting, a box of graham crackers and have a Glee sing-along. Basically, if one of us were a boy we would be dating already.

Lauren is smart, strong, and one of the hardest workers I know. Our freshman year of college, while I embarrassingly watched nine seasons of One Tree Hill in one semester while sitting in our dorm room, Lauren spent countless late nights and early mornings at the library ensuring that she would be admitted to the Ross School of Business. And she reached her goal.

When Lauren wants something, she goes after it. It is that kind of passion that keeps me looking up to her, and thankful to have her in my life. Although she is pursuing a degree in business, her dream is to one day use that knowledge to open a non-profit to help the less fortunate. She may not always show it, but she has a giving heart, and is always there when you need a friend, a sister, or even someone to bake you a cake (her pumpkin chocolate chip cake is the best).

The best thing about having Lauren as my roommate aren't necessarily her baking skills, but it is that I know we will still be friends when we are 80, laughing about our crazy college years. We are already planning a trip to Europe after we graduate from Umich, and I can't think of a better person to have as my travel buddy.

Where There is Heart There is Home

When it comes to finding housing in Ann Arbor, nothing is easy. Even though we moved into the Stumble Inn only a short time ago, we are already on the house hunt to find a home for senior year that can accommodate more of our friends. The steps to house hunting are more complicated than one may expect. First, you must find a group of people to live with (have you ever tried to accommodate a group of girls? Not easy). Second, you must send countless emails to landlords inquiring about different properties. Third, you will want to tour you potential home (you will want to know how much mold is growing in the bathrooms and whether or not all of the burners on the stove work). Fourth, you must find a time where everyone can gather to sign a lease and go out for celebratory drinks afterwards.

So it's a process. And the more people you add to your list of roomies, the more complex the process becomes. At the moment, my friends and I are trying to accommodate 13 girls into a house for next year. Yes, you read right. 13. 12 of the girls are in the same sorority, and then there is me. Doing my own thing and dancing through life. Although I am not in their sorority, I am on cloud nine entertaining the thought of living with them next year. I love making friends and becoming close with people. They are funny, smart, hard working, and although we may need to make a few extra tacos for our family dinners next year, I couldn't be happier.

However, going through the housing process with this many girls is not easy. Everyone wants a certain room with a certain price next to a certain person. The emails are endless, and the planning can be a bit tedious. Nevertheless, we will make it work and try to accommodate everyone's needs.

The thing is though, it's this kind of situation when needs are confused with wants. I recently just lost someone near and dear to my heart. Death is something that puts your life in to perspective instantly. Suddenly, nothing in the world matters in that moment except for the people in your life closest to you. Death makes you realize what in your life are needs, and what in your life are considered extra luxuries. Not only does death put needs and wants in to perspective, but it puts time in to perspective. It allows for the realization that our time on this earth is not forever.

It allows us to to realize that we spend too much time analyzing and not enough time enjoying.

Too much time memorizing textbooks for exams and not enough time learning the material.

Too much time judging others and not enough time getting to know them.

Too much time counting calories and not enough time enjoying the taste.

Too much time worrying about how we look and not enough time worrying about what's in our head.

Too much time fighting others and not enough time listening to them.

Too much time looking for love and not enough time loving.

Too much time taking and not enough time giving.

Too much time editing ourselves in pictures and not enough time capturing the moment.

Too much time getting drunk and not enough time dancing at the party.
Too much time worrying about our hair and not enough time worrying about our health.
Too much time caring what others think and not enough time loving ourselves.
Too much time blaming and not enough time forgiving.
Too much time using and not enough time creating.
Too much time talking and not enough time listening.
Too much time thinking we are too cool and not enough time laughing at ourselves.
Too much time in front of our computers and not enough time traveling.
Too much time saving and not enough time buying shoes.
Too much time alone and not enough time with the ones we love.
Too much time telling ourselves that we have more time, because in reality, you just don't know.

In the end, how we choose to spend our time is up to us. But my philosophy has always been and will forever be, no matter what you are doing or where you are going, it is never about the destination or even the journey, but with whom the journey is taken. Living without friends, family, or love is to live without laughter, joy, or companionship. What the juxtaposition of death and finding a home in which to live has taught me that your home is not defined by where your key fits. Your home is defined by where you fit as a person. Defined by where you feel your family is. Defined by where you feel most comfortable living your life to the fullest, spending your time how you want, and being with the people who will allow you to do that. In the end, where there is family there is heart, and where there is heart there is home.

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Rest in peace Uncle Paul. Thank you for always laughing and never hiding your glowing smile. You will forever be in our hearts.

Meet the Roomies: Kayla

Or as I call her, Captain Kayla. Kayla is a junior in the nursing school at The University of Michigan. She's sassy, fun, energetic, a great dancer, loyal, honest, and really keeps the Stumble Inn a functioning home.

I met Kayla my freshman year of college, but we didn't become close friends until this past summer. Although she may try to hide it with her sassy attitude, Kayla has one of the biggest hearts out there. She is a nanny, loves children, makes sure everyone is functioning when they have had one too many drinks, and is always there when you need a friend. Kayla has helped the Stumble Inn become a family, and we couldn't thank her more.

Not only do we call her Captain Kayla, but I also refer to her as Mom. She keeps everyone on their toes when it comes to chores, she keeps in touch with our land lord, constantly has car seats in her car for when she babysits, and when she isn't turning up the music at a party, you can find her cooking in the kitchen creating her next masterpiece.

Kayla is someone that has reminded me time and time again that friends aren't just friends, they are family. Kayla is someone who has picked me up and dusted me off during a rough times, and reminded me that families are always there for each other through thick and thin. Although she has had to tell me things I don't always want to hear, I know that I can always count on her for the honest truth, and I always thank her in the end.

If you are lucky enough to every meet Kayla, don't hug her right away. Don't worry though, she will warm up. And if you are really lucky, she will make you cheesy ramen. But that, my friends, is a story for another time.

Dude, where's my couch?

Sometimes you lose your keys. Sometimes you lose your mind. Sometimes your boyfriend breaks up with you and you lose him too. But you know what, sometimes you also lose your couch. What? Yep, you even lose your couch. Well, you may not know what it feels like to lose such a massive part of your furniture collection, but the ladies of the Stumble Inn know the feeling quite well.

It was a fabulous, rainy morning on the first day of classes in Ann Arbor, Michigan. The sun was hiding, the birds were crying, and the line at the book store was out the door and around the corner. You could almost smell tears in the air. I won't sugar coat it. Classes at the University of Michigan are hard. And waking up after a week of non-stop drinking and partying during the infamous Welcome Week make the first day that much more difficult. However, if new classes, scared freshman, backordered books and snobby professors weren't enough, the ladies of the Stumble Inn lost a dear friend that morning.

After trudging home from class for lunch, I walked in to the house to discover a package of mine sitting on my front porch (To be honest, this isn't the unusual part of the story. I have a shopping problem and I am well aware of it). After excitedly picking up my package and struggling with the sticky lock on the front door, I walked in to the house to discover that our living room couch was missing! Our pride and joy. Our little baby. The place that consoles us when we have one too many "lemonades" on friday nights. The Ke$ha couch (the couch deemed this name when we moved into the house and found the couch covered with sparkles and confetti. Have you ever tried to remove sparkles and confetti from a couch? It doesn't work. So they stayed and we loved them). I closed my eyes only to open them and discover that I wasn't just seeing things, our couch was actually gone.

Being my paranoid self, I immediately thought we were robbed. Ready to call 911, I decided to take a breath instead and text my roomies. However, their responses only frightened me even more. They told me the couch had been there only an hour earlier. I started to panic and called out in the house to see if anyone was home. Not only was I alone, but I didn't have a couch to catch me when I needed to sit down from light headedness.

Confusion set in next. If my room mates didn't have anything to do with this strange disappearance, and our land lord never called to tell us he was coming to the house, what was going on? I tried to pretend that the couch was still there and I made myself  lunch. Turkey sandwiches have a way with calming nerves.

An hour later, my phone buzzed. One of the roomies, Gauree, tried to clear things up that she had called our land lord about replacing a broken coffee table. Well that makes perfect sense, right?! We call about a coffee table and he takes our couch! Yes, now we can all sleep easy. No. Wrong. So Gauree called the land lord back and found out that he was going to replace the couch, but he just decided not to tell us yet.

So the mystery was solved, but no one has any idea as to when our couch will be replaced. For now we will just have to lay some pillows on the ground, cuddle together, and hope for the best. But do you want to know the saddest part of the whole thing? We didn't even get to say goodbye to the Ke$ha couch. Rest in peace little one. You will be missed.