I'm not domestic. I don't cook (well, at least not successfully) and I don't clean (unless the 'rents decide to visit).

But hey, we live in a world of modern conveniences. Dinner is a phone call away and the mall has nearly anything materialistic you can desire. Yet, ironically I'm now taking sewing lessons and attempting to cook. But cleaning — let's not go overboard here.

I went to the mall last weekend looking for work clothes, my credit cards ready for some major damage. I did not come home with bags full of overpriced, must-have clothing. I couldn't justify paying the money for the one-season quality, especially when nothing caught my eye. This isn't the first time.

Last August, I started pestering my mom to teach my how to sew. Despite her doubts on my commitment, I have every intention on becoming my own personal designer. I just keep thinking once I get good I'll have perfectly altered clothes in the styles I want. Seriously, nobody likes getting all dressed up just to see someone else styling the same shirt.

I realize this whole situation isn't going to take place overnight. Sewing and designing are going to take a lot of time to master. Oh, there will be many mistakes, like varying arm lengths, but I'm prepared to take the time to learn or just write them off as the latest trends.

So to get me started, my mom gave me her extra sewing machine and we embarked on my first successful trip to the fabric store a few weeks ago. I'm signing up for lessons at the fabric store and even found a local designer who offers classes. See — I'm committed. Even my mom so supportively bought me a copy of "Sewing for Dummies" and promised to teach me the intricate details when I'm home on weekends and school breaks.

I figure that all the time I waste searching through racks of cookie-cutter looks could be better spent designing my own customized-fitting wardrobe. I'm 5''5" and yet almost every pair of pants I try on drag at least 4" on the ground. I will never understand why men get the taken-for-granted luxury of pants length options, while women must either live in heels or pay at $10 for alterations.

It's not just sewing that has sent me on a flashback to domestication. I'm trying (with a little more success) to cook. I just can't take anymore $5 subs or greasy fast food joints. My friends now say I have the worst fridge to raid because it's full of organic and healthy food. Eating better has just become routine. I know — what's wrong with me?

Modern conveniences are amazing, but sometimes, it's better doing things yourself.

This viewpoint was published in The Marquette Tribune on September 22, 2005.