Are you there, Housing Gods? It’s me, Halie, another freshman freaking out about which house will be knocking on my door next Thursday morning. I’ll try to keep it brief, as I’m sure you’re a little busy sorting out all the other sacrificial offerings and mental pleas my peers are giving up in exchange for their favorite house (or in some cases, any house but those in the Quad). All the “official” information about Housing Day says that my residential fate rests on an algorithm, but as someone who is practically allergic to math, I think talking to you guys is my best bet.
I know I relinquished all control over my housing situation when I hit the submit button on the lottery site–not that any of us has control–and the house I get is the house I’ll grow to love. Unless the rumors about roaches, mice, and other creepy-crawlies in some locations are true…then I might have some issues.
I can’t beg you to bestow me with a specific house because I can’t find any particular quality that makes one house superior to the eleven other fabulous options. None have helpfully included flashing signs outside to let passing freshmen know that “This is THE house to live in! Any other is a guarantee for three miserable years on campus!” Then again, there’s so much pride for each house that these aren’t even necessary–a conversation with a current resident is pretty convincing that wherever he or she happens to live is the best…until I talk to someone living somewhere else. Every time I’ve been over to a friend’s room or snuck into a house dining hall (hey, sometimes a girl’s gotta get out of Annenberg), I’ve been impressed no matter which house I happened to be in. Each one has so many amenities! So many fun activities! So many catchy covers of songs in the Housing Day videos that’ll be stuck in my head no matter where I end up! (Looking at you, Lowell and Pfoho.)
Housing Gods, above all else, I want you to make sure I’m in a good community next year. Despite the fact that Housing Day is somewhat reminiscent of Harry Potter, there isn’t a Sorting Hat I can smooth-talk into putting me in a “better” house. But as I am constantly reminded by my older, wiser friends on campus, the best part of an upperclassman house is the people who live in it. Every house is a strong, fun community with its own traditions and special features–the more I think about it, the more I realize that there isn’t any way to get a bad assignment next week. So, Housing Gods, after all of that rambling I’m asking for one thing: place me in a house with people who will make it my home.
(But also one without roaches, pretty please.)