Ask Helga - Halloween costumes and fishy roommates
Got questions? Send them to Helga to get a Viking’s perspective on your life!
Dear Helga,
Halloween is coming up, and I have no idea what I’m going to dress up as and I don’t know what to expect in terms of South Dakota weather. Will I be freezing my butt off by the end of the month?
Dearest Viking,
There are as many things to be uncertain of in this world as there are stars in the sky. One of those uncertainties is always South Dakota’s weather.
During my first year at Augustana, it felt as though summer would never end. I ordered my costume on an 80-degree day in September.
I won’t go into all of the details, but there wasn’t a lot of fabric involved.
As the end of October drew near, I was surprised to see how quickly a high of 40 degrees could arrive at our doorsteps.
I was also surprised to see how quickly my body could go numb from walking in the cold.
Helga’s advice? Dress up as a bear or a wolf or anything that puts you in a warm fur suit.
Or at least purchase some fleece-lined tights.
Love, Helga
Dear Helga,
I thought my roommate and I were going to get along — we seemed to have so much in common. Now it’s been over a month since we moved to campus, and I already want to leave. He’s always on the phone with his girlfriend, he never cleans up after himself and he doesn’t start his homework until I’m trying to go to sleep. What should I do?
Dearest Viking,
Oh, the age-old roommate debacle. There’s nothing quite like choosing to live with someone because you think you share common interests only to find out that your similarities only go so far.
This reminds me of my freshman year roommate, Ingrid. She has since graduated, but memories of her haunt me still.
We initially decided to room together because she lived on a neighboring fjord. It seemed perfect. We both loved fishing, hated planes and dreamed of marrying handsome Vikings with beards to write home about.
During welcome week, we took time to get to know each other and decorate our room in Stavig. Everything seemed great.
However, as the weeks went by, I couldn’t help but notice this horrible smell getting worse and worse. I asked Ingrid about it, and she said she didn’t notice anything.
Finally, when Ingrid left over fall break to sightsee West River, I cracked. I searched our dorm for anything that smelled like that rotting substance I couldn’t escape — which seemed like every nook and cranny of the room.
In a complete invasion of privacy, I searched Ingrid’s belongings just as thoroughly as my own. Think what you will about this choice, but you didn’t smell what I was smelling.
I opened her sock drawer and was immediately appalled. Ingrid was hoarding fish from the Aug Bog in her folded stockings.
To this day, I have no words for this finding.
Thankfully, the issue sorted itself out when Ingrid came back to campus — she received a letter from her mother, urging her to come home as quickly as possible. I didn’t ask why, I was just relieved when I came back to our dorm one day and her belongings were nowhere to be found.
However, the lingering smell of fish plagued the room until May.
Helga’s advice? A roommate from hell is a canon event that can’t always be prevented, but you can always hope and pray for a reassignment.
Or you could just study their mom’s handwriting.
Love, Helga.
