Article and Art by Riley Webb
My fridge in college represents who I was a month ago, who I want to be, and all that I currently am. People say “you are what you eat,” but maybe the saying should be more like “you’re a construct of the contents in your fridge."
Blueberries are the produce I always keep stocked. I usually put them in my quick-cook oatmeal in the mornings; having some sort of fresh fruit seems beneficial considering the dining hall is always depleted. Back at home, blueberries were always infused into my breakfast in some way. I would stumble into the kitchen at 5am before an early morning lift and have a cup of blueberry yogurt simply for the fast protein and convenience. During the weekends, I would toast two blueberry bagels, one for me and one for my brother. I would put butter on his, and honey on mine. He would sit and eat with me in the chair to my right, the same way we had sat since we moved into our house 10 years ago. During the summer, my dad would sprinkle blueberries into my smoothies. He would bring me a mason jar filled to the brim with the blended fruit, making summer mornings always taste sweet and citric.
I have blueberries in my fridge. I am so homesick.
I then have two types of juices, cherry and beet. Cherry for nighttime, because it contains melatonin. I heat it up and drink it slowly. It’s tart and metallic. I also think the warmth of the cup simply makes me tired, helps quell the day. Some days are so rushed and noisy, bustling from class, to the library, to the gym. When I heat up the currant colored juice, when everything slows and gives rise to swaying somnolence– like the steam that swirls from my cup. I’ve realized how much more “Colorado” and crunchy it is to drink my natural melatonin before bed; High school me would have laughed.
I have cherry juice in my fridge. I am the healthiest I’ve ever been.
I drink beet juice during the day, before I run. I was told that it boosts endurance and helps with strength training, something about maximizing muscle performance and recovery. In college, “maximizing” or anything along the lines of a “shortcut” has become my first choice. I’ve found that there is not enough time in the day nor days in the week for me to check everything off of my list. Most often, my backpack contains everything I need from 9am class to 7pm practice– computer, notebook, snacks, hairbrush, change of socks and underwear, deodorant, phone charger, and pajamas. When I do have time to swing by the dorm, my shot of beet juice before I head out the door is just another circumventing step in my routine.
I have beet juice in my fridge. I am a rushed, strung-out student athlete.
In the side compartments of my fridge, I keep face masks. Honey, eucalyptus, lavender. Soothing, rejuvenating, plumping– who really knows if they truly make a difference for your skin. Their validity is trivial to me, as it is the principle of slowing down, pampering myself, and allowing time for self-care that feels important. Beyond that, I usually only use a face mask with my girl friends. It is more fun to all look silly together and commit to the pjs, warm tea, and late chatter. Getting to know such amazing women who will indulge in both the loud and the quiet moments of college has made this experience so enjoyable. It is these moments of communal downtime that fill the gaps in the day, passing the hours from evening into night, which I now greatly cherish.
I have face masks in my fridge. I have made lots of new friendships that I love so deeply.
I often have some sort of take-out or leftovers in my fridge. Sometimes it is the second half of dinner from a late-night track practice, or sweet treats from a last-minute outing with friends. Other times it is a mediocre pasta dish boxed up from a date, or a failed baking experiment covered in cling-wrap. Like most college students, I keep leftovers for cost efficiency and convenience. Each styrofoam or tin-foil container equals another meal that I don’t have to waste dining dollars on. But also, each outing equates to more than the leftovers. I have noticed myself saying “yes” to more. More fun excursions with friends. More awkward first dates with guys. More new experiences and connections.
I have take-out in my fridge. I have grown so much since I started college.
When I open my fridge, I don’t simply see food. I see pieces of home, idiosyncrasies of my schedule, and the fluidity of myself. I see fragments of my time layered upon one another, a conglomeration of constant change. Each item is evidence of adaptation and rearrangement, all nourishing an aspect of myself in some way. I am a collection of routines, choices, and memories– a construct of my fridge.