Independence deemed overrated, unnecessary
Snow, ice fluster the 'one-woman Dream Team'

By Emily Schirmer

Mirror Staff Writer
December 7, 2007

Many people seem to think that independence is the primary goal of our college career; we leave the nest and find our wings. I’m not sure that is the best goal for me. Perhaps I should aim for something less inclusive; you know, maybe just life, liberty and pursuit of happiness.

I must admit, I’m a hazard when left unsupervised. Truly. My freshman year, I cut the roof of my mouth open while eating a bagel. Two days later, I sliced open my lip on a gum wrapper. A week after that, I got so excited while reading Harry Potter that I fell out of my loft onto my dresser and then onto the floor.

Now that I’m a junior, I can tell you that time does not heal all wounds – mostly because I keep adding new ones. I’m beginning to accept that I will never be a fully functioning, independent adult.

Additionally, I have lost my desire to become completely independent. I like having my family and friends to lean on. I like knowing that there are always people ready to help out, people who understand me and understand my tendency for trouble.

I have become one of those people that calls on anyone I can think of to come fix my problems; my parents, my sister, my roommates - everyone I know has been called in for recon work on my debacles. Unfortunately, I still have that streak of independence that flares up on occasion.

We all remember the snow last Saturday. Coming home from work, our parking lot hadn’t been scooped and the snow and ice were piled high. My usual response would have been to park on a side street and give the neighbors my keys and let them drive my car into the lot for me. However, I felt that insatiable urge to go it alone – well, me and Baby (my Focus).

I was a one-woman Dream Team; James Bond and MacGyver had nothing on me. Baby was the David to the snow’s Goliath. We plowed through – well, forward, at least. About two feet. Then we were tragically stuck. Like a mouse in a glue trap, no internal force was moving this beast.

My first instinct was to call my parents in Iowa. They weren’t willing to drive the four hours to get me out, but they asked me where my neighbors were. Since I live next to three boys who frequently get me out of binds, it was a reasonable question. However, me being the one-woman powerhouse I was, got a little miffed at their insinuation that I needed a man’s help. So I kept trying by myself. I succeeded in getting my car turned sideways and blocked the entire lot. At this point, I made a small concession and asked my roommate for help. Between the two of us, we got my car moved, still in the parking lot, but now wedged between two other cars. Not a vast improvement.

It was time to enlist more resources. I called the neighbor boys, squashing any hope I had of being the next Kim Possible. Within twenty minutes, we had my car and two others moved back to where they belonged by making a ramp out of beer boxes.

Moral of the story: I’m not self-sufficient, never have been, and I likely never will be. But I’m okay with that. I’d rather need help and have a ready reserve to pitch in, than be all alone in this big, scary land of ice and snow.