Filler

On the Dorm Beat

I am a freshman, which means I have to live in the residence halls. Residence halls provide a service to the parents of students like me that makes us glad to come home for holidays. It works. I am actually looking forward to seeing the family I spent my whole life trying to get away from. It is also a way to stress-test students. If they can study under the conditions of the residence hall, they can study in the middle of a volcanic eruption.

Before I came to the U of O I had to fill out a form that listed my likes, dislikes and the kind of person I was. Now for some reason I had this weird misconception that the university would make an attempt to match me up with someone who had similar interests and personality traits. I thought I would end up with someone somewhat similar to me. It wasn't until later I realized I was paired up with my exact opposite. Frankly, I think there must be cameras somewhere in my room and a big screen TV somewhere in the administration building. I can picture a bunch of guys down there saying, "Hey Phil, anything good on?" "You just missed the boxing match on the 'Bean Channel.'" But I think there's going to be a debate on the 'Hamilton Channel' about the viewing of the football game vs. the viewing of the 'The Simpsons.'" "Isn't there an investigative report on the annoying habits of the Eastern American male prick?" "Yes, it's on the 'Watson Channel,' right after 'Room 301 Smack Down.'" (This is an awesome idea. You might want to elaborate on what the "Eastern American male prick" is for clarity)

I live on the fourth floor of Robbins Hall. The layout is interesting; the first floor is for guys, the second for girls. One might think that the next floor would be for guys, but no, it is also for girls. The rest of the guys are banished to the fourth floor. There are some interesting discrepancies between the first floor and the fourth floor. The most noticeable difference is the smell. On the first floor there is a scent of orange on Mondays and Fridays, yet Tuesday through Thursday a wonderful vanilla scent fills the air. On weekends comes the special candy shop smell. The fourth floor smells like a combination of urine, beer, and rotten garbage. The fourth floor is also the only place where one runs the risk of being decapitated by a Frisbee making one's way to the bathroom. I would also like to mention that one can often hear the fourth floor long seeing it. Visitors can experience the "battle of the stereos" 24 hours a day, as each room pushes volume knobs to the limit, competing for auditory dominance.

I know for a fact the first floor had us banished to the top of the building. I know this because I accidentally stumbled into one of their "secret" meetings. I was going down to the lounge to study when I found all of the residents from the first floor. I went downstairs because it can be hard to concentrate in my room where I risk sound waves cracking my walls and having my ceiling cave in on me. When I entered the room all participants stopped what they were doing and stared at me. The R. A., who lives on the first floor, finally got enough courage to tell me it was a meeting for the first floor only. Noticing the tension in the air, I backed out of the room and hid around the corner to hear the meeting. I could only make out a few phrases such as, "It's those damn guys on the fourth floor... We should get rid of those guys." After that they started discussing military tactics and the "cleansing of Robbins Hall." Acting on this information I was able to organize a small resistance from the fourth floor dwellers. We organized an ambush on the stairway. We were able to halt them on the stairway by the third floor using miniature footballs, miniature baseball bats, and the aforementioned Frisbees. The enemy finally retreated but only after heavy casualties on both sides. They tried to invade the fourth floor once again, but they were driven back by our extremely accurate Frisbee throwers. In the end, the fourth floor, and the stairway leading up to it stood in ruins. The charges for cleaning up the blood alone nearly bankrupted the fourth floor.

Former residence hall captives recount fond memories of residence hall life. They must have been perpetually drunk during that time period. I don't know if it's possible to be drunk for an entire year, but my next door neighbor is going on three months with no signs of stopping. The other possibility is that it looks better in retrospect. It worked for high school, I guess it could work again.

Jeremy Jones, a freshman majoring in Journalism, is a staff writer for the Oregon Commentator