Wrinkly cougars and snowy beards
COLUMN LIKE I SEE 'EM
I moved to Lincoln for three reasons. It snows here. Women are here. Also, my fake sister went to school here.
Back home in California, snow is hard to come by. There's an investment necessary in order to be at an area in which frozen water falls from the sky.
I lived about four hours away from Lake Tahoe, so the feat was definitely doable, but I wanted to be in the thick of it all. I wanted to trudge through blizzards to get to class. I wanted my nose chilled red and my beard tinged white.
So I looked at Andrews, and guess what? Union is like $10,000 a year cheaper. So I came here.
Little did I realize that, in Lincoln, snow happens, but it's just as likely that the next day will be a hundred degrees and my dramatic trudging would be reduced to an effortless stroll wearing an unbuttoned Hawaiian dress shirt and capris while I watch my winter wonderland melt away.
Life hasn’t been much better in the woman front either.
It's true that there are women here, practically countless. They outnumber the guys threefold. And yet, a combination of my extreme pickiness and lack of searching has left me womanless.
It's not all that bad being single, but it isn't all that bad not being single, either. Back home I went to a junior college, and the local crop wasn't something I was all too ready to harvest. I'm a Christian, so I wasn't really looking for the satanist, cocaine-fueled, fifty-six year-olds available to me.
Alternatively, I'm also probably not a good fit with the type who only ever listens to Christian music and consults the Bible before crossing the street or breathing.
I want a happy medium. Half old, heroin-using cannibal, half turtleneck-wearing Amish woman.
Is it too much to ask for an outgoing, strong-willed, financially competent, short-haired woman who can go to church and laugh at a Holocaust joke to just show up and miraculously not already be in a relationship or do meth?
It might be. But I'm still hoping.
So that leaves my fake sister. She's great. And that's why I really love Lincoln.
At the time I moved here, Chelsea was the only person I knew, and that's where my fun would be had.
But over time, I've met more people. People who act, think, and talk like I do, about what I do. People who disagree and tell me I'm dumb, both when I am dumb and otherwise. People who watch cartoons with me. People who eat with me. People who feed me when I can't eat. People who are interested in who I am, and invested in who I'm becoming.
People are what make this place something I won't willingly leave.
Kevin Niederman is a junior nursing major hailing from Santa Rosa CA, about an hour north of San Francisco. He enjoys cartoons, hats, and driving ridiculous distances for food that has the potential of being amazing.