My arm is in the toilet, and revenge is on my mind.

The former tenants of my new apartment didn’t deign to clean the place before leaving, and my roommate and I have spent the better part of this week eradicating their filth. This means scrubbing the unspeakable toilet, and as I plumb its dirty depths with a scrub brush, I ask myself how two girls who seemed so nice at first could leave us with a pigsty.

Then it hits me – people had stopped being polite and started being real, just like MTV always warned us. It’s the real world, and the lure of cheap rent and a kitchen to call my own finally persuaded me to join it.

Unfortunately, though, the real world isn’t all comfy couches and George Foreman grills – it’s also fungus in the fridge and more bills, bills, bills than Destiny’s Child Night at a karaoke bar. A grim situation, to be sure – how would I cope?

Suddenly, inspiration strikes. Who better to help me handle life in the real world than former cast members of “The Real World,” which entered its 10th season on MTV this very week?

I head over to MTV.com, where through the miracle of RealVideo, a gaggle of ex-Real Worlders are offering tips on handling the challenges of daily existence.

“Just be yourself,” offers the Seattle season’s David, for whom “being himself” involved slapping roomie Irene upside the head. “To try to make yourself something that you’re not just because you want to fit in – we don’t do that in society.”

I try being myself, but to no avail. It seems my self is incapable of many comMonday, real-world tasks. I put our shower curtain on backwards. I have yet to cook anything. And my roommate, as if sensing my incompetence in all matters mechanical, puts my bed frame together for me.

Still, if he ever complains about my breaches of roommate etiquette, I’ve got a comeback ready.

“Sorry – just being myself,” I’ll tell him. “To make myself something that I’m not just because I want to fit in – we don’t do that in society!”

Jamie, of the New Orleans season, has other advice for me.

“Use the real world to get in touch with a deeper part of yourself,” he says. “(The real world) was just a great way for me to … get in touch with a more spiritual element.”

I take Jamie’s words to heart. When I discover a half-smoked cigar in the dairy section of our refrigerator, I shout out loud.

“Holy mother of God, I despise the former occupants of this apartment!” I say, and immediately feel in touch with a more spiritual element.

But the truth is that most former “Real World”-ers had precious little help to offer newcomers; most of their advice was geared toward looking good on television. (Which helps explain why Flora, the tart-tongued saucebox from the Miami season, suggests “Show lots of titty.”)

Eventually, it was my roommate who had the best suggestion for dealing with the rigors of the real world. His time-tested remedy: beer. We headed down to Bar Louie, quaffed a few brews, and all of a sudden my troubles seemed to vanish.

At least, they vanished until I woke up the next morning, and the kitchen needed mopping, the dishes needed doing and the shower wouldn’t drain properly.

I was right back in the real world, and nothing – not even showing lots of titty – could get me out of it.

Casey Newton is a Medill senior. E-mail him at [email protected]