Oh, boy! I have been forced to fix my wit to the parameters of this rental guide, and, as… Oh, boy! I have been forced to fix my wit to the parameters of this rental guide, and, as such, I proclaim that rental frenzy is upon us and not a moment too soon.

I know how you feel. You’re sick of your R.A., you’re tired of sign-in sheets, you heave at the smell of, um, dorm things, and now you want a new place.

You want something close, cheap and palatial, right? I did, too. It’s just not going to happen. But I still found a great apartment in Shadyside even after procrastinating until after finals week.

The day I moved into my brand-new apartment, nothing happened. This was because I was tired from lifting couch-sized objects all day – and this was followed by sitting on couch-sized objects all evening.

But the next day was great. It was hot and sunny August and finally I felt free: free from the dirt and grime I had come to associate with South Oakland; free from loud freshmen, their drunken declarations and vomit on campus shuttles; free to eat at places that weren’t the same three restaurants I go to in Oakland.

Along with not being Oakland, Shadyside had its own brand of awesome. This new land was home to more coffee shops, bars, restaurants and shops. But unlike Oakland, Shadyside had hipsters!

Sure, you see a few of them who migrate to campus as walking sports, coated and scarved in their denim tights, but Shadyside is where they roost. The land is irradiated by them, imbued by fallout that infects every resident to the point where they all sport at least one piece of pretension on their bodies. I mean, I had to start growing a beard and pretend it wasn’t out of laziness. But this was OK because the coffee shops played much better music, they said.

Not only are there hipsters, there are the post-collegers and the those-with-real-jobs who bought me numerous drinks because “this dude is hilarious.” They can afford anything; they have income. The bars are still occupied with the loud riff-raff associated with sinful drink, but none of them had letters on their chest – which really makes a lot of difference.

Basically, everyone is happy in Shadyside, because they’re not anywhere else in Pittsburgh. The grass is greener, the sidewalks remain cracked, but in a somehow charming way, and buildings look like they can support their own weight. Not that Oakland appears to be frozen in perpetual topple, it’s just clear that Shadyside isn’t. And now they even have a store that exclusively sells cupcakes!

But Shadyside is not all bohemians and icing. There was one uncomfortable and completely unforseen change I noticed after a few months of living out of walking distance to campus.

I no longer felt connected to my school. I was on campus only to attend classes and the extracurriculars I was already a part of. I didn’t eat at Schenley or go to the Petersen. As I type this, I can’t even remember a third example of what I used to do in my three on-campus years, but I’m pretty sure I stopped doing it.

I partied, studied and relaxed in my new neighborhood. I didn’t think to keep doing those things in Oakland because everything I needed was mere blocks from my apartment with shiny newness associated only with those things that are new and shiny. I imagine this also happens to Squirrel Hill students, too, but who cares about them.

For nearly the entirety of my first 19 years, I had been in school. Living in dorms was a big step toward eventual adulthood, but it was also living at school surrounded by students. Back in Sutherland, I couldn’t imagine anywhere else I’d want to be – other than on vacation – but in this new environment, I started having adult urges or, rather, urges to be an actual adult.

After I settled into my new place, I was surrounded by a growing or grown-up population. I saw these people still learning, but on their own time. Stupid philosophical debates still echoed off coffee cups, but out of slightly older mouths. These people wore trappings of youth but could afford not to. They still laughed, but with a full wallet.

In short, by moving off-campus, I unwittingly submerged myself in a sea of life going on after school. And it grew on me.

So as you set out into the forest of classified ads, keep in mind that this is one of those “next steps.” Also, make sure your new place has a dishwasher.

Arun is the many-faced guardian of the Old Ones. E-mail him at [email protected].