Apartment Radon Gave Me Superpowers

In case you missed the most pertinent housing drama of the 2023 semester, or if you’re sick of New Apt mold jokes– here’s this

Starter Packs for Your Dorm

Dorms. Among the filth and mold, we’ve learned to call them home. Part of the fun of these exorbitantly expensive cinderblock jail cells is leaving your (temporary) mark on the place and putting your unique spin on the place. But, as unique as we are all hell-bent on convincing ourselves that we are, these places have more of an impact on us than we like to admit. What does your dorm say about you? 

It Happened to Him: The Last Housing Lottery Pick in All the Land

The Housing Lottery has been the talk of the town for the last few weeks. An all-out bloodbath in the name of getting a south campus single, or an NCA with your friends, or even just a single in Mather, as long as you aren’t on the first floor. While I am a first year and had my rooming situation in place previously (thank you, sweet, sweet Zeta division housing), I am trying to feel empathic for those who have no options but to buddy up to a roommate-less friend of a friend in hopes of not getting the absolute worst possible option.

Kenyon Zodiac: Housing Edition

no, we’re not gonna talk about the new astrological sign.

Welcome back to another installment of the best thing you’ve ever read. That’s right, the Kenyon Zodiac is here to inspire you, to connect you to your place in the universe, to make you a better person. But that’s not enough. It’s time to step it up. This round, not only are we telling you what your sign is as ~*Housing on Campus*~ we’re here to offer you a little sage advice for the week ahead. Nuggets of wisdom. Two cents. Mercury is out of retrograde and so it’s time to get our lives back on track. Buckle up.

Aries- Old K. You’re well-known, lovable, and a hot mess. A triple threat!

This week: Watch out for spiders. I don’t know what you did but it really upset them.

Seniors Reminisce: Jank Housing

Oh Kenyon housing, how you have changed over the course of my short tenure here. Back when my perky, 18 year old body first set foot on this campus, my highest residential aspirations were to while away sunday mornings in a Farr Hall stateroom, gazing down at disheveled passersby and softly chuckling to myself. This dream stands, I suppose, but I would guess the majority of the student body would beg to differ. In the past few years many of the college’s charming and cozy living spaces have been bulldozed in order to make way for the construction of spacious, white cubes set aside for the upper crust. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that I had the opportunity to apply to live in a mansion made out of paper, balsa wood and glue and be rejected. However, part of me misses the undeniable charm of the domiciles that had to die in order for these boxes to be birthed. Dear reader, take a walk with me if you will, and I will feed you knowledge of some long-gone, tastefully janky housing options.