The suite life

The tenets of blissful living in an EC townhouse.

By Dino Grandoni

Published April 7, 2011

College living offers me and other only children an education we could never have at home: learning to live with others. It was an easy choice freshman year to live in a Carman double—a chance to share a space with a peer, something I had never done before. Those with siblings might not realize how strange it is for a singleton to have another living body in your space day in and day out.

Again, in sophomore and junior years, I roomed in a double. Each of my roommates was fine in his own right, but by senior year I was ready for my own space, and my friends and I were lucky to a get a townhouse in East Campus where we each had singles.

Finally, some privacy! No longer would I have to hear complaints about my messiness or late-night “study” habits. (“Study” here is used broadly to denote anything from watching reruns of “30 Rock” on Hulu to writing columns due the next day.) I figured EC was a reward after two years of views of dimly lit brick walls in Nussbaum and Watt.

Living with a group, though, is a different animal than dorming in a double. With housing selection fresh in underclassmen’s minds, I have some advice for rising seniors lucky enough to get an EC suite. Here’s how to make the most of the best year of the best years of your life:

First, during the very first week of school, go to one of a handful of Costco stores in the greater New York City area and stock up on everything you will need through the year. I mean everything. Dishes, cutlery, pots, and pans. Soap, paper towels, tissues. Toiletries, including a bulk package of tooth paste tubes, which each of your suitemates can individually label and which guests can mock after using your bathroom.

Next, get a large TV. Preferably one that is 42 inches or larger. A big television all of a sudden becomes affordable when you and your suitemates all pitch in to buy it. After three years of streaming TV shows and movies from questionable websites onto your laptop, you may have forgotten what real TV watching is like.

But don’t watch TV all of the time; get a Wii, too. Or some other gaming system. It doesn’t matter if you feel you’re too old for video games. The point of it is to get Netflix onto that 42 inches of glorious high definition. Watch every episode of “Arrested Development” and “Parks and Recreation” at least three times. Only do this if you don’t care about your GPA.

After the trip to Costco, turn your attention to your room. Differentiate it from the rest of the suite. Furnish and decorate it so it’s your own. You’ll need to keep yourself sane. A corollary to this is to rearrange your stuff halfway through the year. It’s a good way to break up the monotony of college life.

Finally, set explicit rules for the common area. Your suitemates may be your friends, but law and order is essential for them to stay that way. (Not “Law and Order”: you have Netflix for that.) Remember to argue insistently about bylaws and amendments to these rules, too. It’s good practice for law school.

For example, the most important and frequently enforced rule of my suite was not to leave stuff laying around the common room. Any violator can have their stuff thrown in front of their dorm. I think this rule was created for me. But it’s not my fault—I don’t have any siblings.

One other indispensable rule: Don’t have sex in the common bathroom. Especially if your suitemate is tired and has a column due the next day.

Dino Grandoni is a Columbia College senior majoring in economics-political science. He is a former Spectator head copy editor. The Lowest Common Dino-minator runs alternate Fridays.

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