It was a Friday afternoon. I had just gotten back from my one class of the day. The house was silent. I sat down in my room, leftover Hamburger Helper in tow, pondering what my next activity should be: homework or catch up on my TV shows? Let's not even pretend like I gave that a second thought. But to make myself feel more productive, I also decided to do some laundry.
I go into my basement and get ready to put in a load when I hear knocking. First thought: One of my seven roommates must have forgotten the keys. Wrong. I opened the door to find three guys who I've never met standing on my front step. Next first thought: These guys are either trying to convert me to some new-age religion or are here to meet one of my roommates. Wrong again. They're here to tour my house. There it is. The dark cloud that is Charlottesville and University housing descends upon us again.
I've been here for quite some time now but have yet to understand why housing always seems to creep up on you so quickly. I remember being a first-year student and thinking, "it's only October. I've been here for two months. I just figured out how to get from my dormitory to my classes. How am I already supposed to know where I want to live second year?" Please, what am I saying? All you have to do is gather a group of your closest friends and either sign a lease or sign up for University housing online. It seems simple, right? Not really.
First of all, as a first-year student, how are you supposed to know who your closest friends are? Answer: Make them go through the grueling housing process and I guarantee you'll figure it out. So maybe this doesn't apply to just first-year students and I don't think it's such a big secret, but there's something about housing that can make or break friendships. Granted, I'm lucky. Most of my closest friends here are people that I met in my first-year dorm. In fact, today, all but two of my roommates are people that I lived with either first or second year. But I didn't know that at the time.
After two months, how was I supposed to know who I liked enough to shack up with for another whole year? Or worse, what if I did decide to live with them and they were unbelievably messy? I don't mean like clothes-on-the-ground messy. I mean what if she never cleans and never throws anything away? Then there are suddenly colonies of fruit flies that have taken residence in our house and a weird smell penetrates the surrounding area. What a nightmare.
And then there's the great debate: on-Grounds or off? My second year, I lived in Lambeth Field Apartments. And like most things, with every up, there is a down. For instance, I finally had a kitchen, but it was barely big enough for one person to stand in. It also had no dishwasher and no garbage disposal. Believe me, you learn to miss those things when you come home to a pile of dishes and food stuck in the drain. But the absolute worst part about Lambeth is that it's so far away. How much can be said about a place that's closer to Barracks Road Shopping Center than anything school-related? But then there's always Bice House. One of my good friends who lived there last year said although it's nice that Bice is so close to Grounds, it also has a terrible social scene. So I guess it's up to you. Take distance for comfort or proximity for social isolation.
On the other hand, I currently live in a house off Grounds with seven other people. But coming to that decision was not one that came easily. It involved weeks of touring houses, trading e-mails, meetings discussing which house to choose, meetings to discuss rent, chores, furniture, etc. To put it lightly, it was a hassle. And on top of it all, it always seems to coincide with the ever-looming midterm season. It's like the moment I didn't feel overloaded with work, it hit me straight across the face with a force equivalent to a head-on collision. That constant nagging reminder of "that's right, you're still homeless for the coming year."
But now I have a house and seven roommates. It's not all great. The house gets pretty drafty and my basement has the most pungent and ungodly smell. But I have to tell you that regardless of all of that, it is by far the best housing situation that I've had. I live in a house with seven of the craziest and most wonderful people. And even though it would seem like it would be a madhouse at every moment of every day, it's not. There are actually a lot of times when it's eerily quiet.
We've escaped the life of University-regulated living. It's fairly inexpensive. We live about five minutes away from my classes. And best of all, it's the closest I've ever felt to being home. Moral of the story: Housing is a pain. It's unnecessarily complicated and stressful. But if you do the leg work, you'll reap the rewards.\n\nAlyssa's column runs biweekly Mondays. She can be reached at a.juan@cavalierdaily.com.
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