The Wake

In what could very well be considered a cruelly inhumane joke on the part of UofM Housing and Residential Life, every year thousands of helpless incoming freshmen are thrust into the psychotic roommates, horrible music, abysmal food, and binge drinking-fueled vomiting. Join us for a dorm-by-dorm analysis of the good, the bad, and the ugly of living in the university’s much-maligned student housing.

Bailey
By Amy Fink
If you prefer the quiet life and having big, strong horse legs, Bailey is the residence for you. Located atop a hill on the west edge of the St. Paul campus, Bailey is home to those on the small, more private campus at the far end of the University Transitway.

The lower lounge has a kitchen, vending machine, pool table and pingpong table, but don’t expect the equipment for them to last long. Aside from activities at Rock Bottom—a community and social space, a few frats, farms and a cute little coffee shop, there’s very little else nearby, but the Rec Center is just down the block. There’s a Campus Connector bus that comes frequently, but expect a 20-30 minute commute to the East or West banks. The dining hall is conveniently connected to the dorm, but while the food there isn’t the worst on campus, it’s far from the best.

Centennial
By Haily Gostas
In comparison to Pioneer, which is without elevators and air conditioning, or the strictly-freshman auditory horrors of Territorial and Frontier, Centennial Hall comes off as the university’s Ritz-Carlton.

This fourth member of the Superblock certainly has its luxuries. It’s home to the largest dining hall in the block and a C3 grocery store-esque market—although the food’s quality and price leaves plenty to be desired.

The best part? Singles, baby! Centennial is made up almost entirely of decently sized single rooms, which bodes well for those looking to avoid getting stuck with/puked on/sexiled by that slutty alcoholic kleptomaniac roommate from hell. If double-bunking isn’t your bag, this is the best place to fly solo.

Comstock
By Jenny Odegard
Just far enough away from the 24-hour Superblock party and nestled against the upper-classmen in Yudof Hall, Comstock is University Housing’s answer to awkward social situations. The rooms are spacious and have their own sinks—a convenience not to be overlooked. On top of this, Comstock is about five minutes from most classroom buildings.

While the isolation from the other herds of freshman doesn’t at first seem an issue, as winter falls and you wonder what happened to all your friends, and that view of the river isn’t such a good consolation prize. Enter: pretending to like your weird smorgasbord of neighbors. Good luck.

On a Friday in February that’s too cold for you to leave the building, you will suddenly realize that you have no idea how to get to the other side to see your friends of the opposite sex without passing the security guard and at least one CA in the lobby. Plus, the horrible cafeteria food you crammed down before UDS’s worst venue’s 6:30 p.m. closing time is starting to roll around in your stomach.

If you do end up in Comstock, be sure to load up on EasyMac and take time in the first few days to navigate your way through the basement to the elevator by the laundry room — it takes you up to the boys’ side.

Frontier
By Kristen Mueller
Cramming 735 freshmen into a swastika-shaped dorm is asking for madness. Trust me, I’ve been there— and lived to tell the alcohol-soaked tale. Before I get into the details, I should mention that underage drinking is forbidden in the residence halls. Of course, that pesky technicality didn’t hinder anyone from blending margaritas on top of their University-issued bookshelves or knocking back shots in the room neighboring our CA. When things inevitably got out of hand, there tended to be a bathroom involved—and not just for regurgitating the night’s boxed wine and Chipotle burritos. I’ve watched a friend flounder on the communal shower floor in a futile attempt to sober up; nearly stepped on a girl who passed out between a row of toilets and sinks (she was wrapped in a blanket and cushioned by a pillow); and turned a corner to witness a student pissing on our CA’s door. I don’t doubt that most of you will encounter similar circumstances—I just hope your friends are lucid enough to haul your trashed ass to a real bed, preferably with a Target-issued trashcan below to catch the night’s remains.

Middlebrook
By Kim Gengler
Here is the all-important phrase for dorm dwellers: individual bathrooms. Yes, Middlebrook houses those elitist honors students, but they come with non-comunal bathrooms. During my time there, I never had to tote my toiletries down the hall past everyone and their parents, a major advantage to living in the “freak” dormitory.

But what gives Middlebrook this different reputation? Well, there are the arts floors and the drama kings and queens that reside there. These visual- and performing- arts students have a knack for living life as it is depicted on soap operas, which means they have their ups and downs daily. As mentioned, honors students also lurk in Middlebrook, making it quite eerie.

Personally, I delighted in the contrasts amid the groups and found the people that were somewhere in between the two extremes remain my friends.

Territorial
By Tyler Rushmeyer

One of four residential halls that make up the Superblock, T-Hall is a great place for the freshmen experience. Carpeted rooms and air conditioners that rarely work provide for moderate comfort as you awkwardly sit in silence with your new roommate. As for nutritional needs, a walk down the stairs and through the tunnel will lead you to the dingy confines of the Centennial Hall dining room. Is it worth $7 a meal? Probably not. But as you valiantly strive for the freshmen 15, there’s no place like Centennial on a late night, where you can stuff your face with greasy food rather than study for pointless generals. Overall, T-Hall is the cream of the crop for freshmen living, where all types of people can come together in dorm-room boxes and forget about high school.