If you send your daughter to the cathedral/museum/nunnery that is Martha Cook, you're doing one thing and one thing only: buying "daughter insurance." And what does shelling out double for student housing provide for her exactly? Where to begin...

They have tea time every Friday. They have more than one marble statue on the premises. They have their own private tennis court. They have a room called the "Red Room." They have a room called the "Gold Room." They stand in a circle and sing before each meal. Boys must be escorted everywhere (including the bathroom) and will NOT be tolerated in rooms after midnight any night of the week. If you think that last one is a joke, I assure you, it's not. Behold my experience last year visiting my friend:

Johnny Quest: This is like a hotel room, it's big and comfortable, yet unnervingly creepy.
Marth Friend: You're just jealous!
Anal Chick sticking her head in the doorway: Um Taylor, it's 12:05, he needs to um, you know.
MF: Oh okay, we were justing doing homework.
(Anal Chick tilts her head, looks at her watch and walks away)
JQ: Wait, is your house mom serious?
MF: Yes! But that's not our house mom, that was just Jessi from down the hall.
JQ: What? I'm being kicked out by another girl who lives here? I am not leaving.
MF: You haaave too, I'll get in trouuubblle!!
JQ: I'm sleeping here just to spite you.

It's like a sorority with all the stupid rules and traditions and none of the fun debauchery. You can find cool girls there, but more often than not you'll be hanging out at your place, not hers. Unless you really, really want some tea.