This feels strangely CGI

Ah, Whitman, the newest of them all, whose neo-Gothic arches and towers we owe to erstwhile eBay honcho/gubernatorial candidate Meg Whitman ‘77. From an aerial view, the college forms a “W”, said to be in her honor (definitely apocryphal). It’s no eyesore from the outside. Though Whitman does seem to be aping the time-earned classiness of, say, Rocky — it’s all like “hay look I’m 4 years old but I can be castle-y and majestic too” — it’s a pretty nice-looking crib overall. And there are some nice things on the inside, too.  I’ll be quick to admit, the Whitman experience is an overwhelmingly positive one. But I’ve still got some pretty serious reservations about the place. It looks good on the surface, but under that perfect veneer there’s something’s just a little … off. If that’s cryptic, good — I’ll take you through the usual tour, and then I’ll explain myself more clearly when we get to the end, because, suspense, or something.

The résumé:

Laundry: Thanks to ridiculously generous laundry room distribution, no matter where you live the nearest washing machine won’t lie more than a hallway’s length away — you’ll be grateful that you don’t have to clamber up and down stairs with a hamperful of misery. But because of the easy access, these rooms are always busy, so to guarantee yourself an open machine you’ll often have to make the arduous (ok, elevator-assisted) trudge to the 1981 basement, where you’ll find a wondrous array of washers and dryers.

Kitchen: Like the laundry rooms, they’re sprinkled throughout, usually two to a floor, and they’ve got all the usual amenities: fridge, stove, oven, microwave, requisite filthy dishes, etc.  Since they’re fairly cramped and devoid of any homey ambiance, the kitchens don’t make for particularly good study or social spaces — I never visited them except to raid someone’s fresh batch of cookies (note: easily sniffed out from afar). Be careful what you cook, though, because air circulation tends to, uh, share your creations with everyone in the vicinity. My freshman year, someone managed to stank up all four floors of 1981 with the thick reek of five-spice. This happened on a regular basis. I will never forgive you, O anonymous purveyor of Asian cuisine.

Computers: Printers on every floor is a godsend, but for usable computers you’ll have to venture to Whitman Library. (We’ll deal with that place in a second.)

What’s in the neighborhood: Kind of a down-campus hub, so though classes can be a hike, meals at nearby WuCox and Forbes are convenient, as are workouts at Dillon Gym or visits with Spelman pals. Whitman also seems to sit on the mathematical midpoint between the Wa and Studio 34, meaning you can satiate your late-night munchies in whichever direction you see fit (hot hoagie <====> French bread pizza). Poe Field’s not too far away either, which is nice because you’ll quickly find that Whitman courtyards are good for picturesque promotional photographs, but worthless for any kind of sporting (too sloped, too many dang pathways). Come winter though, the “Whitman Hill” is the most desirable sledding spot on campus. Soon as the white stuff lands, grab a tray from the dining ha–er, some legal, University-approved form of sled, get a running start, and coast.

Bugs and pests: Still new, so it seems like the bugs haven’t yet figured out how to infiltrate yet — maybe a stinkbug here and there, nothing of note.

Library: There are study rooms on every floor, but other options too, should you want to escape your hallway. The dining hall moonlights as a nice study area anytime between dinner and breakfast (free snacks too!). Then there’s also Whitman Library, which I’ve previously described in these pages as a “dimly-lit den of stress and dark wood,” and I’ll stand by that. It’s popular real estate for night-time studiers, and though the computers are usually unoccupied, it can be hard to secure desk space. Also the epicenter of some pretty serious academic crises, especially during times of widespread distress, like Dean’s Date or thesis season (photo evidence). This library houses no books, which is why I can with a straight face suggest that it be officially renamed to “Whitman Dimly-Lit Den of Stress and Dark Wood.”

Noise levels/partying: Likely due to a solidly central location and spacious quads, Whitman hosts its fair share of pregames. Walls are paper-thin, so act accordingly. Meaning, wait until your roommate is out the door and at least halfway down the hallway before you badmouth him (purely hypothetical) or ransack his stash of dried seaweed snacks, because he’d probably hear the plastic crackling (not hypothetical).

What’s on the floor: Dark hardwood, demurely matte.

Other perks:

• Five-room quads, with square footage bordering on blasphemy. That these rooms exists while the Forbes Addition exists is a pretty exquisitve kind of injustice. Easily some of the nicest pads on campus. (Underclassmen, suppress your fantasies for now, because these are without fail snatched up by seniors every year.)
• You can get pretty much anywhere in Whitman without stepping outdoors (unless you live in Fisher Hall, which is an island unto itself). Especially valuable during winter or episodes of extreme laziness, when you’ll want to stroll through brunch in your PJs, not your heavy coat.
• 

  The only res. college clothing that consistently crops up at Lawnparties

  Whitman boasts the single most desirable piece of res. college gear: neon tanks inspired by benefactor Meg (see left).

• Tuesday dinners are special meals that only Whitman residents can attend, known as “College Nights.” To Whitmanites, that translates to: slightly improved food, themed decorations, less crowds, intra-college bonding. For everyone else, that translates to: an inscrutable weekly ritual of exclusivity. Haters gonna hate!
• Air conditioning. You can control how warm or cold you want your room to be. Most people will not be able to do this. Savor it. On balmy April nights, snuggle up smugly with the cool side of your pillow while your up-campus analogue is sweating away furiously.

What it will look like on moving day: A soulless husk waiting to be occupied by a warm body. Um, I mean, empty.

Bathrooms: Hall bathrooms. Clean, nondescript.

The food: Draws crowds, but it’s nothing special. Plenty of people enjoy the hot entrees, but I almost entirely avoided them for 2 years, sticking to the boring but serviceable combo of salad bar + grill fare. Fortunately, Whitman’s location allows for calorically crucial meal pilgrimages to WuCox (best pizza and dope vegetarian options) and, when desperate, Forbes.

THE INTANGIBLES: Here at last. These are all super-subjective, so it’s possible that they’re just my own weirdly specific impressions, but hear me out on this.

So, what’s “off” about this place? To put it bluntly: Whitman feels kind of soulless. I suspect that evil things are lurking behind all the dark wood paneling. I suspect that the college itself is somehow draining me of me of my lifeblood. A lot of this, I speculate, has to do with the oddly enervating dim lighting. Someone somewhere along the way decided that Whitmanites needed 24/7 “mood lighting” everywhere — in rooms, in the dining hall, in hallways. To walk around Whitman is to feel trapped in a state of perpetual dusk. The ambiance is better suited to enjoying a candlelit dinner than grinding out a problem set. (Lighting definitely deserves at least partial blame for the many times I’ve fallen asleep doing the latter.) So invest in a desk lamp, and get out into the sun and/or normally-lit parts of campus as much as possible.

On a more meaningful level, the soullessness also has to do with the unfortunate layout. Unlike the other residential colleges, Whitman is dominated by singles. So, where to chill with others? Perhaps the common rooms on every floor? Nope, those are criminally underused, because they aren’t inviting — they’ve got doors, and thus don’t feel like rooms you can casually stroll into. There’s a game room, but that’s usually a ghost town. On the whole, there are no good communal spaces, nowhere really to just hang out and bump into other people who also happen to be hanging out. With that in mind, I’d nudge Whitmanites to be especially socially proactive, because the layout really just isn’t conducive to the kinds of random encounters or casual socialization that people love to glorify over at Forbes, Where Everybody Knows Your Name.

I’ve been told I’ve got an overly perceptive nose, but I think most people would agree with me here: Whitman smells pretty peculiar. I’m not referring to specific instances, like the fivespice-terrorist — the place just smells weird, all the time. Warm weather apparently causes plumbing malfunctions, which yield some interesting septic fragrances in the springtime. But for the most part, the scents are ambiguous, untraceable, seeming to emanate from the very walls and floors and ceilings. It smells bad and you won’t know why. When you live in Whitman long enough, you grow desensitized to its olfactory assault — you’re only reminded when friends visit from other res. colleges, or when you return from a long vacation. In fact, the only truly positive smell-related memory I have  of Whitman is this one time when I came back from winter break and the air was inexplicably suffused with a syrupy French toast aroma.

Wanna know the most soulless part about it? The dining hall is officially called “Community Hall.” Wait, that doesn’t sound too bad. Presumably it refers to the Princeton community, or, even more heart-warmingly, the Whitman community, right? No. It refers to the “eBay community.” I kid you not. So as a mild linguistic form of civil disobedience, I refuse to call it that. I will call it Whitman Dining Hall. Dear eBay, no matter how sweet the pair of Nikes I ordered off you two weeks ago, or how satisfying the bounty of Magic: The Gathering cards you helped me acquire 9 years ago, I won’t let your ghost linger over my every meal. Sincerely, Whitmanite Who Has Evidently Spent A Little Too Much Time Thinking About His Dorm.

Wilcox Dining Hall

While most argue that Wilson is pretty much the bottom of the barrel in terms of residential colleges—prepare yourself now for snide jokes from those bums who live in the castles upcampus—there are a lot of factors that contribute to Wilsonites’ steadfast pride.  An unbeatable location, lots of singles, great party-ready suites, and computer clusters that actually work help make Wilson well worth it.  Plus, you get the automatic street cred of hailing from the “too-cool-for-kumbaya” residential college, ideal for long-suffering eye rolls to impress fellow froshies.

The résumé:

Laundry: There are two laundry rooms, located on the ground floors of Feinberg Hall and Dodge-Osborn Hall.  Since Wilson’s only a two-year college, there often isn’t a line for laundry, but be warned: Upperclassmen tend to mooch off of the Feinberg laundry room during peak hours on weekends, so plan ahead!

Kitchens: One mythical kitchen in Dodge-Osborn, which I have yet to hear of anyone using.  You need a special passkey to get in, which you can get from your RCA—a bit of a pain, but the fact that it’s locked also means that it’s probably much cleaner than the typical kitchens in Rocky or Mathey.  Who knows, it might be a treasure trove of culinary wonders!

Computers: There are two clusters, including one right above Wilcox Dining Hall that only works once or twice a year.  While most froshies suffer through the Wilcox cluster (its printer was my mortal enemy for my entire freshman year), you’ll be much better off if you use the cluster on the ground floor of 1937, which has two functioning printers, eight computers (both Macs and PCs), and is rarely ever full.  If you live in 1937, Feinberg, Walker, or 1939, don’t even bother bringing a printer—the 1937 cluster will do the trick.

A typical Wilson single on move-in day

What’s in the neighborhood: One of the genuine, non-ironic pluses of Wilson is its prime location: steps away from Frist Campus Center and equidistant from upcampus classrooms, Prospect Ave parties, and downcampus sports facilities, it’s unbeatable.  If you’re on an unlimited meal plan, take full advantage of Frist late meal, which true Wilsonites treat like a twice-daily free trip to the grocery store. From 2-3:30p and 8:30-10p on weekdays, you can stock up on enough prepackaged junk food to curb even the worst all-nighter muchies attacks.

Bugs and pests: Not really a big problem: a perk of being in buildings that were built relatively recently (albeit in the architecturally-illiterate 60s) is that they’re low on creepy-crawlers.  Beware of keeping your windows open if you’re on the ground floors: Wilson is notoriously squirrel-heavy, and you really, really don’t want come back to a room that looks like this.

With a little bit of love, Wilson rooms can be great! (Windows overlooking the parking lot notwithstading)

Library: While the Julian Street Library, located above Wilcox Dining Hall (and right next to the aforementioned computer cluster from Hell), has never been much to write home about, that’s apparently all about to change.  The Wilson College website advertises that, “the class of 2015 and returning students will find a newly designed, state of the art library which will house the main reading room and J-Street Media Center.”  Jury’s out on whether “state-of-the-art” means they’ve replaced the eighties-tastic décor, but we’re ever-hopeful!  You’re also steps away from Frist’s silent-as-a-tomb Reading Room, which definitely comes in handy: its great panoramic views of campus certainly beat holing up in your dorm room for the frenzied end-of-semester push towards Dean’s Date.

Noise levels/partying: Wilson’s close proximity to the Street means you get a fair amount of partying on the weekends—it’s one of the top spots for underclassmen pregames, especially in the “Penthouse” and “Playhouse” suites on the top floor of Feinberg Hall.  If you’re a light sleeper, you might want to invest in some cheap earplugs, but have no fear—after your first few weeks you’ll sleep right through any revelry.

What’s on the floor: Most Wilson rooms in the 1960s-era buildings—1937, 1939, 1938, Gauss, Dodge-Osborn—have wood floors, which could probably benefit from some quick Swiffer-love on move-in day.  Walker Hall has a mix of wood and linoleum.  Bottom line: bring a rug!

Other perks: Black Box theater (which hosts dance parties on Fridays and Saturdays), yoga classes, pottery studio in 1938 (keep on the alert for free classes! A great study break), music practice rooms, dance studio.

Bathrooms: Hall bathrooms, with ensuite bathrooms for the larger 5-8-person suites.

What it’ll look like on move-in day:

Rooms in Wilson are pretty much what you make of them: if you want to live a monastic existence in a sparsely-decorated cinder-block room, that’s your call, but even the most bare-bones Wilson room can become surprisingly cozy with the proper TLC.  If you come armed with wall decorations and nice mood lighting, you’re well on your way to having a conveniently located crash pad that’ll make you the envy of many a Forbesian.

The food:

Wu/Wilcox Dining Hall, shared with Butler, has some of the best food on campus, and you’re also conveniently close to Whitman Dining Hall if you crave some time out of the midcampus bubble.  The Butler side of Wu/Wilcox is open for breakfast; the chocolate-chip muffins, for better or worse, are addictive. For lunch and dinner, the sandwich station is a great bet, as is the vegetarian/vegan-friendly salad bar.  If you ask for grilled chicken from the grill station, you’re well on your way to a fairly healthy meal; steer clear of the oft-offered onion rings, fries, and burgers, which inevitably disappoint.

Wavy. Ivy-free. Home sweet Butler.

Telling people that you live in Butler inevitably leads to the follow-up question: “New or Old?” Butler used to have a reputation for being the worst res college to live in, with legendarily horrible waffle ceilings, a long trek to central campus and only meh-worthy food. But all that changed in 2009, when Princeton introduced shiny new, well, New Butler.

Bedecked in wavy red brick walls, bright interiors, modern lines and a trendy sustainable green roof, New Butler is not your typical Gothic, ivy-covered Princeton building. Before you waste any time feeling disappointed, though (“Nooo I wanted to live in a castle!” It’s okay, I thought that way too, until I moved in and saw the light), realize what it means to reside in the newest college: air conditioning. No bugs. Leather couches. Flat screen TVs. Many a mirthful moment has been given to us Butlerites, chuckling at our friends in Rocky as they traverse four flights of stairs to get to the bathroom, with nothing but a meager fan waiting in their circulation-void rooms.

“What? No, I’ve never seen a spider or ladybug or ant in my room before! That’s gross… okay sure you can come hide out in our basement, the A/C is super cool and yeah Studio ’34 is still open.”

Bloomberg is similarly cushy. Of course, 1915 is a different story. But we’ll get to that as you read on…

The resumé:

Aerial view.

Laundry: There are ample washers and dryers in Bloomberg and New Butler. They’re all as new as the building, so everything runs oh so smoothly. Check out the map here for specific locations.

Kitchens: In the New Butler buildings, there are kitchens around almost every corner. They’re small but  effective, with a big fridge, stove, oven, microwave and sink. There’s also a huge dining room with attached kitchen on the ground floor of Bloomberg, which is great if you want to cook a larger meal with a bunch of friends.

Computers: The main computer cluster is in the New Butler basement. There are about ten computers including a media Mac if you’re looking to do anything digital artsy, plus a scanner and a printer.

There’s also a computer cluster on the third floor of Bloomberg. And the printer in Wu Library is convenient when you’re on your way to class and don’t want to go to the basement. But remember to set up your laptop’s printer connection first, because it’s just a printing station, not a full cluster (although you can easily go to the Wilcox side and use J-Street).

The amphitheater, generally useless except when CSA has mooncake parties and the Shakespeare Company does some plays there.

What’s in the neighborhood: Butler is especially great for athletes, since we’re right above Poe Field, with the tennis courts, softball, soccer and hockey fields all within 5 minutes’ walk. Jadwin and DeNunzio (the gym and pool for varsity athletes) are also easily accessible, and for those of us who are less hardcore, the tow path and Lake Carnegie (aka access to beautiful runs!) are really easy to get to as well.

Math and science kids will also love how close we are to Fine Hall (math), McDonnell (physics), Lewis (science library/pretty place to study even if you’re a humanities student just pretending to belong) and Icahn (integrated science). Oh, and the fancy new chemistry building too! Unfortunately, this mostly benefits the pure science kids. Engineers, have fun journeying to the E-Quad.

Bugs and pests: What are those? You live in a bubble of freshly remodeled cleanliness.

Oh, unless you’re in 1915, in which case you might encounter a spider or two. 1915 is the one part of Old Butler that didn’t get remodeled. It also features gender segregation, as in your entryways will be made up entirely of guys or girls. But hey, you’re farther up campus than the rest of Butler! And that five minutes’ of saved walking time does make a difference. Really. Ask anyone in Bloomberg.

The pool/piano lounge in New Butler basement.

Library: Wu Library is a little enclave above the dining hall, silent, slightly stuffy, and outfitted with those booth-desks that make you feel like you are in a cave of total isolation. Depending on your study style, this can be great or horribly depressing. But the location is undeniably good, considering that there’s a bathroom right down the hall and sustenance directly downstairs.

Another popular study space is the New Butler basement, which can be classified into two sections: the tables right outside of Studio ’34 are usually for more serious studying. Everyone is quiet and concentrated, aka they will glare and probably yell at you if you are loudly Skyping about your relationship problems (true story, I once saw the whole room turn on this one excessively emotional girl. It wasn’t pretty).

The other half is James S. Hall ‘34 Memorial Gallery (more often referred to as “the pool room”), which is more of a lounge, complete with piano, pool table and more leather couches. A lot of group studying takes place there, because there are bigger tables and it’s fine to make a lot of noise. After all, people are playing pool and piano on the side.

Typical Butler room, pre-move in.

Noise levels/partying: New Butler’s huge corner rooms and relative closeness to the Street make for excellent pregaming. Which is great unless you’re not going out, because the walls are pretty thin and you can always hear everyone’s parties from upstairs, downstairs and next door. And on Thursday and Saturday nights, post-Street crowds love trooping into Studio ‘34 around 3 a.m. So if you’re ever planning to study on those nights, avoid the basement. Get thee to Wu, and stay there til the sun rises…

What’s on the floor: Shiny hardwood floors.

Other amenity perks: Studio ‘34 is the convenience store in Butler basement – it’s open from 7 pm to 3 am every night. They sell toiletries, medicine, candy, snacks and many caffeinated beverages. You will love it. We also have flat screen TVs in all the lounges, big classrooms downstairs, lots of study rooms, oh and the aforementioned piano/pool lounge. That’s nice too.

Every few weeks, Butler also plays host to Open Mic Night in Wu Café. There’s usually Old World Pizza, sushi, semi-awkward emceeing, and all kinds of poetry, music and generally snapsworthy performance. You should go. Better yet, you should perform. Free t-shirts!

Bathrooms: New Butler = all private bathrooms. Bloomberg and 1915, not so.

New Butler basement, outside Studio '34.

What it’ll look like on move-in day:
Like it doesn’t fit in with the rest of campus, but you’ll soon be glad. Hoorah especially for elevators!

The food:
The salad bar at Wu is legendary, with a stunning rainbow selection of vegan toppings. The regular entrees are quite good too, especially this magical Caesar salad pizza that appears once in a while (you have to be alert at all times, because it always disappears within ten minutes). There are the most gargantuan muffins on campus every morning, and excellent weekend brunches, always with fresh shrimp, smoked salmon, and all the omelette, waffle, fruit and pastry staples. The only downside is that Wu is athlete central. If you can help it, don’t go on weekdays at 6:30. Eat dinner earlier or later, because at that time you will have to battle all kinds of physically superior beings for food and space.

Also, Studio ‘34 has free soda on Tuesday nights, a cute Twitter account that’s updated whenever they have fresh pizza, coffee until 3 a.m. to sustain your all-nighter, and FRENCH. BREAD. PIZZA. This is the true gem of Butler living. It beats 2 a.m. Frist pizza. It beats everything. Just try it. You will see.

The résumé:

Laundry: Rocky offers basement laundry rooms in Witherspoon, Buyers, Holder and Campbell Halls. Holder Entryway 13, you’re right above the laundry room. If you’re living across the quad, you might find yourself taking a shortcut—and risk exposing yourself to the elements (you know, gently falling leaves)—instead of the long way through the basement. (ETA: No laundry in Campbell! At least not if you’re in Rocky. From Rocky ‘14 in the comments: “Campbell’s split up into two sections: the Rocky side and the Mathey side. The Mathey-Campbell side has access to Joline’s laundry rooms through the basement, but the Rocky-Campbell side isn’t connected through the basement. So, unfortunately, no laundry in Rocky Campbell.”)

Kitchens: You can do your lonely Thanksgiving meal preparation or 2 am ramen eating in the basement kitchens of Witherspoon and Holder. The Holder kitchen area is also home to a TV lounge, and its booth-style dining tables are a popular study area. You’ll often find freshmen and sophomores grimly studying at the Witherspoon dining table, which can make cooking kind of awkward. That said, a list of foods I know for a fact have been cooked in Rocky’s kitchens: A stuffed pumpkin, maple syrup snow candy, seitan, and scones. A little tolerance of gross sinks and stains, and anything is possible.

Computers: Holder’s got a cluster of Macs and PCs hidden among its many study rooms, and a Rocky-Mathey cluster is tucked behind the Rocky-Mathey library, right under the dining hall. For video editors and graphic designers looking for some serious technology, the Rocky Media room is located in Holder Hall, entryway 4B.

What’s in the neighborhood: Embrace the term “up-campus snob.” You’re closer to Nassau Street than just about anyone, which means 1 am Starbucks runs are worth it, even in February.

Bugs and pests: Mice. Bats. Squirrels. OK, look, you’re living in a castle—consider it part of the experience.

Library: Though it’s open 24/7, the Rocky-Mathey Library is best enjoyed at around 5:30 pm, when golden sunlight filters through the windows, and everything feels very old and academic. It’s also best enjoyed without: piles of banana peels on the tables, loud conversations, a Dean’s Date workload.

Noise levels/partying: It depends on the year—and who’s living in the best party rooms—but it’s not hard to avoid the noise given the number of study areas around the college. Places you might find a party: Witherspoon’s legendary turret rooms. Places you might not find a party: Substance-free Buyers (though it’s got some two-story rooms.)

What’s on the floor: Hardwood floors. Obviously.

Other perks: You guys, do you know how hard it is to get tickets to see The Book of Mormon? Really super hard. Lucky you, Rocky College Council is running a trip to see the musical on September 23. Other perks include getting to know (and Facebook friend) college master Jeff Nunokawa and knowing that you at least have a chance at landing one of Spoon’s amazing quads–so you know, they’re the suites that end in -03 or -13. (ETA: Make that -17 for the turret rooms, whose turrets make an excellent place for a breakfast table or one of these).

Bathrooms: Hall bathrooms, including some that are basically just a single bathroom—one shower, one toilet, one sink.

What it’ll look like on move-in day:

Honestly, like this:

But also like your Ivy League dreams came true. Your parents will take a million pictures of you in front of your entryway or in the Holder cloisters, where it’s not uncommon to stumble across a photo shoot on your way to dinner. Other people’s parents might sneak in a few pictures too.

The food: Until the other dining halls caught up, Rocky-Mathey was one of the best. That said, it’s also dining hall food, and dining hall food gets old. Fortunately, you’re steps away from Chez Alice, Teresa Caffe, Olives and Massimo’s, so really, you can eat whatever you want. Also, love that mushroom strudel. The best part of the dining hall is that it’s open all night. It’s a great place to pull an all-nighter—available for snacking are leftover dessert, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cereal, milk, and coffee and tea.

The resume:

Laundry: There are laundry rooms in Blair, Little, Hamilton, Joline, and Edwards. Because Mathey has some of the oldest buildings on campus, be prepared to walk 3-4 flights of stairs to do laundry. Otherwise, most of the facilities have enough machines to handle student demand (save weekend evenings).

Kitchens: There are kitchens in Blair, Little, Hamilton, Joline, and Edwards. The kitchens can get pretty nasty, though – and I don’t just mean unwashed dishes (Blair flooded last year). But if you can keep the space clean, kitchen access can be a wonderful thing: nothing brings together suitemates, on-the-rocks couples, and study buddies so much as a baking extravaganza. Keep an eye out for Mathey’s semi-regular cooking club in the Hamilton kitchen: previous menus have featured shrimp risotto, cheese fondue, and mushroom strudel.

Computers: There are printers in Blair, Little and Edwards. The main computer cluster is located in the Mathey-Rocky library, just under the dining hall.

What’s in the neighborhood: The U-Store is a hop, skip and jump away. This fact means that you can conveniently fuel up before pulling your writing seminar induced all-nighters.

Bugs and pests: Be clean, especially if you’re on the ground floor or basement. There’s nothing more frightening than a 3-inch centipedes stark against a white dorm wall. (See above: kitchen)

Library: An underground, dimly lit library that with shelves of old, leather bound, unread books.  The best part of the set up: the library is connected via a ’secret’ indoors staircase to the dining hall, which is useful when you want to avoid walking the gamut of diners and retreat immediately to studying post-meal. The library can be hard to find at first so be sure to ask your RCA or some other wise friend to show you around.

Noise levels/partying: Some rooms in Mathey are gigantic (for instance, the corner rooms in Blair) and are perfect for the occasional room party. If you are in Little entryways 8 through 14, be prepared to be entertained/annoyed by the energizing tunes blasting from Dillon Gym (Saturday morning Zumba, anyone?).

What’s on the floor: Your floors will be lined with wood – easy to sweep, but grab some carpets to make the room more homey.

Other amenity perks: A movie theater, game rooms in Joline and Edwards, the Blair Hall dark room, Alexander Beach volleyball court (this is permanently occupied during the warmer months, and thus a prime people watching location)

Bathrooms: No personal bathrooms. All hall bathrooms are pretty standard.

What it’ll look like on move-in day: You’ll probably spend a good time gawping at the Gothic architecture and stained glass windows before you even make it into your dorm room. But once inside, Mathey’s tiny entryways will force you to execute a skillful twisting and turning of furniture to fit everything in. A word about entryways: they can be isolating, so be sure to walk outside once in a while and say hi to the people on the other side of the wall.  

The food: One of the only concessions I will make towards Rocky is that the kitchen, shared between Mathey and Rocky,tends to gastronomically favor the Rocky side.   There, you will find plated options that are often better than the same old salad, pizza, and grill options on the Mathey side. The salad section is pretty subpar, considering the infrequent rotations of vegetables and lack of jazzy toppings like nuts, fried noodles, and craisins. That being said, the pizzas are starting to cater to the more adventurous (dessert pizza with spiced apple) and the sandwich section is still make-your-own – perfect for the hands-on types.

Hey 2015! If you’ve been spending your last days of summer freaking out in the shower caddy aisle of the Container Store or worried that you won’t be able to find the washing machines in your dorm, The Ink is here for you. In preparation for your arrival, we’ve compiled reviews of each of the six residential colleges to help give you a better sense of what to expect on the big move-in day.

So here it is: the first installment The Ink’s Residential College Review, in which we examine that much-maligned abode, Forbes College.

Most would argue that Forbes is at once the most hated and most beloved of the residential colleges. Depending on who you talk to, Forbes is either that sad, cinder-blocked building in a distant zip code or, alternatively, the best thing that ever happened to them.  For every mainland critic who argues that Forbes is socially removed from the main-campus scene, there are steadfast Forbesians who contend that their residential remoteness actually forges a more “close-knit community.” After two years of living in the 08540, it’s become clear to me that, polarized views aside, Forbes is what you make of it. Here are the facts—we’ll let you be the final judge.

The résumé:

Laundry: There are two laundry rooms, located on the lower levels of the Main Inn and in the Addition. A reasonable number of machines, but there’s often a wait at peak hours (i.e. never, ever attempt to launder on Sunday afternoons).

Kitchens: One kitchen in the Main Inn, one in the Addition. But beware—a tragedy of the commons-type situation developed this past year, which involved mountains of unwashed pots and pans, increasingly threatening e-mails from college administrators, and ultimately, a lock on the door.

Computers: There’s a cluster with about a dozen computers in the basement of the Main Inn. And one (cross-your-fingers, maybe, just maybe) functioning printer.

What’s in the neighborhood: You might be a million-and-a-half miles from anyone else on campus, but you’re only mere strides from the ever-open Wa. (keep an eye out for study breaks here featuring free (!) hoagies)

Bugs and pests: They’re definitely around. Stink bugs on the ground floors were particularly persistent this past year and friends on higher floors have reported occasional ant guests.

Library: Oh, the Forbes Library. An underground, bunker-like den featuring yellowing, 70’s furniture, this place is usually home to the toe-tapping, Red Bull-chugging, TI-89-wielding type. But if you’ve really gotta focus, there is very, very little in this room to distract you.

Noise levels/partying: It’s not the easiest to get your main-campus friends to make the trek out to your room on a weekend night, so except for the occasional room party, it’s quiet.

What’s on the floor: Rooms and hallways are carpeted in the Main Inn. Linoleum in nearly all of the rooms in the Addition/Annex.

Other perks: A student-run garden project, black box theater, music practice rooms, dance studio, amazingly awkward elevator conversations in the Main Inn, ping pong and pool tables.

Bathrooms: There are legendary personal bathrooms located throughout the Main Inn and in a few spots in the Addition/Annex. Otherwise, hall bathrooms.

What it’ll look like on move-in day:

The Main Inn portion of Forbes still retains some of the perks from its former days as the Princeton Inn: a beautiful lounge, carpeted floors and a pretty swanky facade. And if you’re lucky enough to get a room in the Main Inn with windows on the western side, you’ll have great views of the terrace, a neighboring golf course and the Grad College.

The Addition and Annex rooms down the hill will probably never be mistaken for a former inn. Graduate architecture students actually spend their first weeks at Princeton redesigning these dorms for their first project. In the meantime, if you’ll be living here, invest in some super-strength sticky tack to cover those cinderblock walls with something a little less depressing.

The food:

In those horribly cold weeks of January and February, having your dining hall under the same roof as your room does make the idea of getting out of bed a little easier. Less awesome consequence: a large percentage of Forbesians simply refuse to change out of their pajamas for the season. And that legendary Sunday brunch you’ve heard about? Probably overrated, especially now that other dining halls have their own chocolate fountains. But monthly vegetarian dinners are definitely worth showing up for. So are the occasional special Wednesday night dinners–sometimes featuring sushi! (if only for five minutes)

(floor plan image source: http://www.princeton.edu/forbescollege)

Good thing Princeton cares about maintaining the well-being of our minds and bodies, if not of our heavily burdened GPAs. There’s a whole range of fitness options available for incorporation into our schedules this semester, all of which are new, fun, and most importantly, FREE.

Mmm, nothing like a sun salutation in front of the Woody Woo fountain to start the day off right. (Photo from lululemon.com)

This week is Yoga Week, featuring workshops all week on topics ranging from breathing and eating to ”playing with prana (energy) in handstand, headstand and elbow stand.” You know, the basics. All Dillon yoga classes are also free this week. And if you discover an inner passion for the yogi’s lifestyle, the Yoga Club offers a staggering 6 free classes/week throughout the semester. If that’s not enough, Lululemon on Nassau also offers free yoga classes every Sunday morning. No experience or special equipment necessary — as the website says, just bring yourself.

If you’ve ever left a Disiac show in wistful regret for quitting ballet in 3rd grade, it’s not too late. The Lewis Center for the Arts recently started offering free ballet classes for all Princeton students. All levels are welcome, with beginner/intermediate classes on Saturdays, intermediate/advanced Mondays-Fridays, and advanced/pre-professional class on Saturday mornings.

Finally, for those who don’t want to break away from GTSL (S added for studying. Sorry, this is Princeton. We can’t just GTL our way through it), the USG is sponsoring free classes at Dillon all semester. Here’s the schedule:

Spinning: Mondays-Thursdays, 5:30 pm
BodyAttack: Wednesdays, 5:00-5:50 pm
Butts and Guts: Mondays, 6:00-6:50 pm
BodyPump: Tuesdays and Thursdays, 5:00-6:00 pm

No excuses for not being in shape when spring hits us this year, guys. Let’s goooo.

This is science, right? (source: picture-book.com)

Course requirements are a different beast for every Princeton student. For many an engineer, it’s LAs that are hard to come by. (Hint: A science fiction course can knock out that LA for you–and how!) And it’s probably true that for at least some English majors, passing a QR that isn’t Stars for Stoners is looking increasingly improbable as the last of high school calculus flees the brain.

But for me, it’s the ST–or, according to the new course designations announced last week, the STL, or “Science and Technology with laboratory.” I took a lab course freshman fall, (ENV 201 labs involve kayaking and counting fish.), but every semester, when it came to course selection time, I let the looming issue of my next five-hours-of-class commitment linger, as I filled up my schedule with SAs.

And today, as I rearranged the last semester before my senior year, I was called out on it. My dean sent me and about two dozen of my residential college peers an email reminding us that our “less-than-pleasant” distribution requirements existed, and kindly offering a list of “accessible” STs that we might consider.

Anyway, minutes before I received the email, I had actually enrolled in course on climate change that I’m genuinely interested in, an STX. But I thought I’d also share with you a quick list of STs that Woody Woo, English, and Soc majors might have a shot at. There are the basic gut courses, with your typical condescending and sexist nicknames: Rocks for Jocks (GEO 103), Stars for Stoners (AST 203), Clicks for Chicks (COS 109), and Emails for Females (COS 116).

But here are a few quality under-the-radar STs for those of us who may have put off that distribution requirement until senior year. Keep in mind that course designations are about to change, so these will soon be “STLs.” Not all are offered this semester.

ENV 201B Fundamentals of Environmental Studies

It’s the class featured in every college brochure, where students in waders are splashing around in a creek or taking a water sample in the middle of a lake. While many science classes require some basic prerequisites, ENV 201 is a class that’s really open to someone who has no background in science, but is interested in environmental issues like climate change and conservation. With a few problem sets, scientific papers to read, and labs, it’s still definitely a science class, but one where you’re more likely to be thinking about human consequences than about equations.

CEE 105 / ART 105 / EGR 105 Lab in Conservation Art

One student calls this course, which receives an A+ on the Student Course Guide, “perhaps the best ST in the world.” For the artists among us, this science course studies “how environmental factors (acid, rain, ice, salts, and biota) damage sculpture and monuments made of stone and masonry, paintings on wood, and sculptures in bronze.” And the first lab of the course? A tour of campus.

ANT 215/EEB 315 Human Adaptation

While to my knowledge, Human Adaptation doesn’t have a catchy nickname, this course on perhaps the most interesting topic in high school biology is a pretty popular ST for the less science-inclined among us. One sophomore described it as that “anthro course that everyone loves.” A Student Course Guide reviewer calls it “an excellent choice for anyone with even a passing interest in human evolution or wanting to fulfill an ST relatively painlessly,” and the course listing comfortingly notes: “No science background is required on the part of the student.”

MOL 101B From DNA to Human Complexity

Taught by “the cutest Nobel Laureate ever,” this course for non-biology majors is truly Molecular Biology…101. Readings include articles from the New York Times and Scientific American–material an English major can handle. The class receives an A+ on the Student Course Guide, where one reviewer notes: “All the professors know that people are just taking this class to get an ST, and they make it pretty painless. The labs are easy and interesting, and usually get out at least an hour early.”

PHY 115B Future Physics

Designed for “non-scientists who will someday become our influential citizens and decision-makers,” Future Physics is known on some other campuses as “Physics for Future Presidents.” If that doesn’t get a Woody Woo major excited, what could? The class is aimed at helping the clueless among us understand the very basics of physics and technology required in interpreting scientific information, and one student says it’s “really easy,” and lectures can be entertaining.

NEU 101/MOL 110 Neuroscience and Everyday Life

Another class without a textbook, NEU 101 is an explainer into how the brain works in everyday life, exploring topics ranging from love, to jet lag, to autism. Readings are “drawn from popular literature at the level of Scientific American Mind and The New York Times.” Enrollment is by application, however.

Not sure if you realized, but it is really, really cold right now. If you don’t believe me, check this. Yep.

In the interest of your health, your warmth, and your extremities, we’ve decided to outline a few places on campus not to go because they entail enduring way too much cold.

McCosh Courtyard/Firestone Plaza

Christ on a cracker, this has got to be the worst place; right in the center of campus Princeton’s architects managed to create two of the strongest wind tunnels I’ve yet to experience, and every time the wind blows through there I question the very existence of God. If you aren’t wearing earmuffs, or a face-mask, expect minor burns while you thaw in Firestone lobby.

Dorm basements

Wear this to the Street, spark a campus lockdown (via Wikipedia)

I might just have bad luck in this department, but the basements I’ve worked in throughout campus during winters have been consistently ranging in the sub-zero department. I’m not sure if it’s a heating thing, or a bad luck thing, but I know that heat rises, so, uh, maybe that’s a theory.

Class

That one guy will go.

The Wa

Ask yourself: Just how bad are those munchies? How thick is that alcohol blanket?

Forbes/Charter

At this point? Not worth the walk.

Happy holidays from a time without Black Fridays. (image source: http://currierandives.net/AmericanHomesteadWinter/)

We feel your pain. So you get back from Thanksgiving break and – whammo – it’s already time to start shopping for holiday presents, stringing together little chains of popcorn and mistletoe, and dusting off the ol’ dreidels.

Sometimes this transition can be so stressful that you, like this blogger, just kind of pretend the holidays aren’t coming, assuming that gifts will buy themselves and all of the dreidels will do their own dusting. Alas, this forgetful bliss is not to last, if Princeton has its way. Hints that you’d better start sipping peppermint mocha frappuccinos and shopping for those family members who have everything seem to pop up all over the place.

And if you feel like you’ve started logging more time in Paper Source than in class, you’re not alone. But if you’re looking for some good gift locations, look no further than after the jump.

For the music lover: Check out Princeton Record Exchange’s impressive collection that will satisfy fans of Led Zeppelin, Elvis, and Taylor Swift alike.

For the foodie: Stock up on quality baked goods at Chez Alice, or opt for a one of those great, themed chocolates at T. Sweet’s candy store in Palmer Square. Or, if you’re looking for something non-perishable, you could always go for a gift certificate.

For the hipster: Check out one of the consignment shops in Princeton – try Greene Street Consignment or Jane – for some good (if sometimes pricey) finds.

For the child at heart: Lose yourself in the colorful world of jaZams, the toy store in Palmer Square. Careful, though, or you might come out with more toys than you bargained for (at a price that you definitely didn’t bargain for…)

For the bookworm: Stop by Chicklet Books in the Princeton Shopping Center for a “fun and funky book boutique,” or go more local and check out the sale books outside of Labyrinth. They’re worth a look-through if you have a few minutes to dig.

For the person who has everything: Shop for some good gag gifts at Paper Source. Not just a paper store, Paper Source stocks funny gifts that range from collections of fake mustaches to drumstick pencils to 4-foot-long bendy straws to books that teach skills in sarcasm and dirty joke telling.

Holiday stress be gone! Or at least, be less overwhelming! So sit back, relax, enjoy your hot chocolate and holiday tunes, and happy Princeton shopping!