Five a.m.: The rooster crowed. My tired eyelids reluctantly fluttered open. My frustration returned. Evidently, the authorities still hadn't caught him. "Cunning" was the word they'd used when we last spoke. The rooster was "cunning" and "hard to catch." I rubbed my eyes and gazed toward the source of my less-than-welcome morning wake-up call. His feathered and familiar shadow passed beyond the broken and dusty bedroom blinds. He strutted victorious, surely off to wake his next victim. 

I took in my surroundings, much earlier than I'd hoped to, yet again. Soft morning light struggled to shine in through my small and low-to-the-ground basement windows. Spiders wove their webs in the dirty, cracking corners above. The not so distant sound of village bikers rumbling home competed with the upstairs neighbor's wailing baby and the constant hum of my fan blowing humid August air around this dank space I had come to call home. I rose, eager to shower, then slumped back down into my meager reality.

The landlady still hadn't fixed the water heater. She insisted she was waiting to find someone who'd work for what she called "the right price." She of course had insisted that for weeks, as I labored to stay presentable and odor-free for my first year of graduate classes and the many responsibilities that accompanied my first-year teaching assistantship. 

Like many incoming M.A. and Ph.D students who lack familiarity with life on the island, I had a bit of trouble finding housing at first. I'd checked out the off-campus housing site and found a few leads, but the area proved a bit difficult to navigate, especially since I was attempting to live on my stipend alone. Sound familiar? If so, it's because the problem of finding housing on the island's an extraordinarily common one.

The cost of living is high, and as a result, the options for students are few and far between. Some live in musty basements. Some live in garages. Some live in their offices for fear of going home. But even if you're new to the area, a variety of resources can help you apartment hunt like a native New Yorker. In no time, you'll be able to steer your way out of that first dump you rented and into something a bit closer to that beachside dream cottage you envisioned upon informing your graduate director that she'd see your smiling face come fall semester. 

In addition to the off-campus housing site, located at och.vpsa.sunysb.edu , graduate students new to Stony Brook can turn to Craig's List at www.newyork.craigslist.org , notes Jason Beardsley, a Ph.D student studying English at Stony Brook University. "Craig's List is great, but a lot of people who aren't from the area don't know to use it. It lists available apartments, plus it has a space for landlords to post photographs—a service that the off-campus housing site doesn't offer." 

Likewise, local publications provide classified sections that students would surely find useful in their hunts. The print and online versions of the Port Jefferson Record contain listings for the three village region, which includes Setauket, Stony Brook, and of course Port Jefferson. The online version can be found at www.portjefferson.com . Students might also check out the Newsday's classified listings at www.newsday.com as well as listings that appear in the local PennySaver, a publication that is available at www.allislandmedia.com and arrives annually in local mailboxes. Though these resources lack images of apartments contained on Craig's List, they help expand the pool of options that students have available to them. 

Finally, www.sbgradmag.org itself will be developing a new classified section with the goal of providing another useful resource for the graduate community. The hope is that within the next few semesters, word of the resource's availability will get out to both renters seeking responsible tenants and graduate students seeking housing opportunities conducive to their studies. 

In the meantime, if you're stuck in a less than stellar apartment for your first semester or first year, or if you're still camping out on the less than clean floor of someone's less than roomy place, have faith that better days lie ahead. You'll have figured out that "cozy" is code for "too small for a normal sized human to occupy," that "convenient location" is code for "right at the intersection of two major highways," and that "rustic" is code for "no indoor plumbing." Armed with the tools you'll need to for apartment hunting success, you'll find what you're looking for and perhaps even look back to laugh upon your inadvertently bohemian former lifestyle. But when you do find that place you've been searching for, remember this tip from the editor to you: Ask the neighbors whether there's anything "unique" you should know of before signing a lease. Perhaps they'll tell you that renegade farm animals roam the seemingly peaceful suburban streets at sinfully early morning hours. In the end, you'll be glad to have asked. Indeed, it really is always better to be safe than sorry.

By Liliana M. Naydan

Have a funny housing experience or some tips for renters on the market for a new apartment? Submit to the editor at lnaydan@ic.sunysb.edu. We look forward to hearing from you.