How to escape the dorms and live it up in off-campus housing

Paul Serilla Serilla Warfare

Ahhh yes, late October: A time when residence-hall-bound frosh and sophs' fancies turn to visions of Ann Arbor that exceed the boundaries of on-campus living. Yep, by now they are most certainly sick of the dorm - as I told my roommate in the last year of my dormitory tenure, "It's time to get the hell out of Dodge."

Actually, as your friendly neighborhood Residence Hall Association representative will remind you, the University has no dorms. "The word dormitory," as their annoying little mantra begins, "comes from the Latin root meaning 'to sleep' and the University's residence halls offer so much more than a place to sleep, they are really living communities that offer a host of social and interpersonal opportunities."

Shut up. It's a dorm.

Using the term 'residence hall' is like calling a '75 Pinto a classic Ford with never-again-replicated styling and explosive capability under the hood - it is a spin doctor's phrase, nothing more (no, I don't have a pocket full of kryptonite). Besides, why would we take housing advice from a collection of freshmen and 25-year-olds who still live in the dorm?

The next obvious question is: Why would anyone take housing advice from me? It's a point well taken, but if you really like the "tastes just like turkey surprise" and you still think sleeping on the top bunk is pretty boss, then I am sure no one, not even myself, could pry you out of your cozy cell.

There are certainly no hard and fast rules to looking for off-campus housing - except that despite the noble efforts of the Tenants' Union and the Office of Off-Campus Housing, you are still probably going to get hosed. I have a personal preference for landlords with names like Bob or Sue that I can call at home, instead of Crap-o-House, Inc., which seems to be entirely run by voice-mail; but there are definitely losers on both sides of the fence. The only advice I can honestly give is to ask lots of questions and read what you sign.

Getting down to the nitty gritty, let's assume you sign your life away on the house or apartment of your dreams, so that in May or August you can finally close the dorm chapter in your life. There are certain things every college home must have and every college household must do - they can be placed under three subheadings: social, sustenance and environmental maintenance.

First, the social - let's face it, it's the real reason you want to move out of the dorm. In all likelihood, you aren't a complete putz, but let's take a worst case scenario: you can't cook, don't know how to clean, can't balance your checkbook so you can forget about paying bills, and the reason you spent $150 on a Franklin Planner was to remember to brush your teeth (but you got a 27 on your ACT and here you are, viva la review course).

You didn't move into an overpriced, somewhat livable space to experience a little whiff of that perpetual annoyance called reality - you want to party! How can you be sure this is you? If your top two potential roommates are that guy with a fake and the dude who owns his own tap, check the box. Just make sure you can get the column speakers up the stairs.

I think we've established that you need a big stereo and room to store beer, but you have to eat too - the sustenance category. The one commonality of college kitchens is that they are always well stocked, but with nothing you would actually eat. For example, one of my roommates (let's call him "Phil" to protect his real identity) recently made me aware that we are the proud owners of seven bottles of catsup, nine bottles of mustard and about three pounds of butter. Man, why do I eat out so much? I could be whippin' up butter-mustard-catsup soufflés for months on end - in fact I'd like to take this opportunity to invite everyone over for dinner (we'll set the date some other time).

The only food that is equally at home in the dorm and the college kitchen is the mighty ramen noodle. Let me just offer one helpful preparation hint for post-dorm ramen - add boiling water. That's right, it makes them much softer and easier to swallow, while still giving you a full lifetime's supply of MSG.

Finally, environmental maintenance. Face it, something will go wrong with your new home, maybe some chipped paint or three inch-deep solid waste from a backed-up sewer drain in your basement - just hope your landlord returns calls. You also need a jobs list, not to keep your house clean, because that will never happen, but so you can take turns on who's fault the mess is.

"Jon, the bathroom is a pit."

"Actually, last week was my week for bathroom blame, try talking to Kevin."

I hope that helped the uninitiated get a real feel for what life beyond the dorm is like - happy house hunting everyone!

- Paul Serilla can be reached over e-mail at pserilla@umich.edu

10-24-97