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Being a recent college graduate, I found that the only things that really change in the weeks following the ceremony is that you now have to find a job and you now have a fancy piece of paper with which to decorate the wall of your crappy little apartment. Outside of those minor details, everything stays the same – your apartment still sucks, you have no money, and you have no food that isn't Top Ramen and peanut butter. So when I got the call from my mother asking if I would watch their house while they went on vacation, you can imagine how quickly I said "Hell yes!" That Friday morning I watered my plant, threw some dirty clothes into a duffel bag (why pay for the laundry, right?), and set off, chanting "There's no place like home. There's no place like home."

It is amazing how much you miss things like a big screen t.v. (even if there is never anything worth watching on), a couch that doesn't destroy your back, and cupboards stocked with actual food, when you've spent the last four and a half years of your life with no money and annoying roommates. Needless to say I was enjoying myself. I was about halfway through the Price is Right, and about a quarter of the way through the joint that I had lit up, when I noticed that my beer was empty. So, prying myself from the couch, I headed into the kitchen to fetch another when I heard Pearl Jam coming from my neighbors back yard. Seeing as my neighbors are retired, this struck me as a bit odd, and when I went out to investigate this strange musical selection, I noticed that there were two pairs of rather firm and rather tan ...

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