Dear Rice Lane,
My name is Alyssa Runckel, I go to UC Davis and live in a house at 237 Rice Lane. It is a 1920 square foot, 5 bedroom, 2 bath, single-family home that my roommates and I decided to shove seven people into (thanks to the garage). Correction—it’s filled with six girls, one guy, and is actually home to, twelve members, give or take, who tend to wake up piled on our couch or crammed in our beds. We’ve taken the open-door policy to another level.
Our abode is the epitome of a college frat house. It’s been passed down through our sorority for over thirty years and is notorious for its formal pre-games. A ninety-eight-member chapter doubled with dates, will leave you blessed with mud for grass, one less bathroom door, and the occasional sewage coming out the front lawn. Needless to say, Rice Lane comes with open arms and zero judgment because we have probably done worse. Some may find molding sinks and mopping a liquor-stained floor to be their worst nightmare, but I’ve learned to tolerate it. Put plainly, I wouldn’t have my college experience any other way.Â
I could go on forever about our home and its stories, including our upcoming rendition of Pike’s “80’s in Aspen” titled “Rice on Ice” (we drove three hours to decorate with real snow). But, this article is an ode to the five *plus* women that inhabit it. I’ve lived with them for practically four years now and they’ve watched me grow. I’ve emotionally matured, had my fair share of slip-ups and getting fucked-over, come back to my roots, all while they’ve watched me figure out who I still want to be. These women have been my support system and sounding board for all the issues and triumphs life’s thrown my way. They are incredible.
Not everyone finds their Rice Lane and I am highly aware of that. It’s the reason I’m writing this because I recognize I’m so goddamn lucky. It’s also why we’ve made our home an ever-revolving door. We know we won the friendship lottery and want to be that safe place for those who didn’t; for those who don’t share meals, send “what are you drinking tonight” texts, or align their class schedules so they can tan together. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have cheerleaders like them, on top of being a normal twenty-two-year-old. It’s hard to describe at times, but it’s the feeling of belonging I get from all of them. If I had to put a name to it, it’s like I came home.Â
It’s not just this feeling, but it’s the influence Rice has had on my life. I’m currently in a poetry class because of my checked-out, senior status, and actually wrote a poem on this. It’s titled “I am a Mosaic ” because I’m composed of everyone I’ve ever loved. It points out that friends come and go through different seasons of life, but never truly leave—pieces of them will always be with you.Â
The theme of my life is that I’m a friend first. I’ll drop anything to drive you to an oil change or lend you a tampon. I take such great care of the people in my life because, like a mosaic artifact, several pieces of their origin have come together to form the final product—me. Brooklyn’s taught me to listen to more country and wear sundresses. She’s also the one person who puts words in my mouth when I can’t conceptualize how I feel. Autumn has shown me Latin music, as well as vulnerability. I’ll think of Connie every time I go to a farmer’s market and Lily would know what to do in any scenario because she can tell I’m upset from just my inflection. I can’t help but talk to them and about them. I carry them wherever I go:Â
“I catch myself talking to strangers, / About people of my past and present / Bragging about Naz, Mikayla, and Sara. / Carrying on their stories, / I’m written by those who left imprints”.Â
Thank you to Rice Lane for showing me unconditional love and creating the life I’ve always wanted to live. I love you all greatly.
Sincerely,
Shalyssa