There are some people who talk to their parents like twice a day. They tell them everything about their classes, their roommates, even their hookups. Did you do this in high school? There's only so much stuff I can let my parents know about me before I start getting weirded out. That's why I go to school 45 minutes from home. Far enough so they can't pop in all the time, but close enough so they don't feel they have to. You really find out if you can get along with your parents if you can picture whether or not you could hang with them at school. Would your dad be one of those guys you know from a class or two that you pretend not to notice as you walk down the street and stare at the building just over his head, or the asshole from the football team that hits on all of your friends? Would your mom be the quiet mousy girl from the library who studies all day, or the slut who dances on the table WAY too early in the party? If you answered yes to any of these options, you do NOT get along with your parents. Everyone I've ever met at school, at one point or another, has said "Man, my parents would kill me if they knew I did this." Do you think they really don't know? That your parents think that every college kid drinks except you? But its okay, because you drink responsibly. And you've learned to make sure your kids won't drink when they get to college. Which they won't, right? It's weird when you go to your parents' house, because you're so used to ultimate freedom at school. Your girlfriend or boyfriend comes over, and instead of hugging all day and spending the night in the same bed, you exchange sexually frustrated glances across the room and they sleep on your pullout in the living room. You can't drink, you can't smoke, and you don't have anyone paid to clean up after you. Why do you think everyone stops going home by sophomore year? Parents deal with your room one of two ways once you leave for school. Either they've rented it out for storage space by the time you come back for Thanksgiving, or it remains a shrine to you for the next three decades. The first way, you can never go home again. The second way, you don't want to. Like this column? Then buy the book!