In Which I Embrace (What Might Be) Radical Freedom

For a young college student frequently surrounded by other vibrant and charming people, I spend a lot of meals eating alone. Yes. And to make it worse, these meals are also usually spent in my little dorm room, with the door closed. During these sessions of Solitary Nomming, I have more than once wondered why they are, in fact, Solitary. The usual conclusion is that I just like to be by myself more than most people; and it's not just meal-times. I also prefer to study, explore, and generally loiter as a party of one. But as I ride along in this train of thought, I start to worry about where it's taking me. I'm anti-social, I realize with sadness, What's wrong with me? I should try to spend more time with other people.

If I were the type of person to ask What Jesus Would Do, I would further conclude that I am not making anyone's life better by hiding myself (and my smiling face) away. I should be out there loving my neighbors, right? Or at least building up a tolerance to them (heh heh but only if I were like that, which I'm not). 

The truth is, over the last few years, I have become more social and outgoing. I spend more time at activities on campus, I joke with coworkers at Phil's. The other week, I even went to a Pre-Concert Choir Potluck, and had FUN. Yeah. So there. Thing is, I continue to spend all but a few meals every week alone. 

Even as I started writing this post, I was sitting in my warm lit breadbox of a dorm room, half-way through a Swissburger so good it could only have been made by God. My fingers were oily, my tongue was all over my lips, and inadvertent little moans and sighs were coming off my vocal chords. My thoughts were these: Ever since I was little, I have been a noisy and messy little eater. Finger-licking, lip-licking, smacking, mmm-ing, and facial expressions; I've had it down. My mom had four other kids by the time I came along, and she never had time to train me in proper eating etiquette. For years, I didn't think about it, until my boyfriend's mom (who, Rich agrees, is an etiquette nazi) commented about my "smacking". I was so embarrassed, and also infuriated at being told I would have to change myself to fit in. 

When I eat with other people, I quiet down my love for food. I know they do not want to see me make a spectacle of myself over the Ham&Cheese Panini I ordered for lunch. But when I eat alone? I enjoy the hell out of my food. I can eat as slowly as I want, lick my fingers, close my eyes, eat without utensils, whatever I want. You might find this disgusting; glad I don't go out and do this in public (trust me that it's not that bad), maybe even unsure why I decided to write about this. But maybe you understand, like I do, that it is significant how I have taken something unique about myself and, even though other people don't like it, decided to keep it. 

My philosophy professor recently brought up the idea (from Sartre) that humans are radically free, able to act independent of outside influences. Now I'm not big on Existentialism, and really this idea (of existence preceding essence) has more to do with how we have no predetermined habits than with choosing to not break a habit. However, I like to think I have embraced a little bit of my own radical freedom in eating how I want and where I want. Maybe.

Comments? Questions? Worries? Joys?