by Kimberly Devine

Created on: March 14, 2009   Last Updated: March 15, 2009

Ah, the summer before one heads off as a freshman to college is an exciting time. One of the best parts is filling out the form to line yourself up with a compatible roommate, talking on the phone, making plans for the first time we'd each live on our own.

Roommate #1, the first of four my freshman year, the one the school set up, was great! She came from a lovely New England family, and I could tell right away we'd be close.

I didn't know I have horrible taste when it comes to choosing people with whom to share space.

#1 and I were superficially similar. We were both the intellectually, artistic type of girl and each was the oldest sibling.

However, not wanting to seem obsessive-compulsive, she had purposefully lied on the cleanliness section of the form. For my part, I had neglected to specify my low threshhold for irritation.

We had each made mistakes on the form, or at least, that's how #1 explained it to me.

If I came into our room late, I would carefully slide into the bedroom, grab my grooming basket and get ready for bed in the bathroom before climbing soundlessly onto my mattress.

#1 would open the door to our bedroom, scrape open her dresser drawer, and remove her toothbrush and paste from each item's separate tin-foil wrapping. She apparently had fine motor control difficulties. I timed her, nightly, and each piece took nearly 20 seconds of crinkling to unwrap.

Unfortunately, her dresser was next to the door, so she just stood there with the door to the hall open.

Light flooded the room for forty seconds of crinkling, then the blessed darkness returned for the two minutes it took her to brush. I think her motor control difficulties were selective.

After brushing, these items needed to be carefully dried and returned to the precious, if noisy, tinfoil wrap. Then she began to unwrap her soap. I think it is easy to understand my irritation after four or six returns to the tinfoil every night.

This process was always followed by her climbing into bed and playing her flute music by which to sleep. Eventually, I succeeded in getting her to wear earplugs, but I could still hear the trilling and scale-sliding. As she snored, I growled.

I found a more choice roommate without the help of the college. Did I mention I have horrible taste in roommates?

#1 and I agreed to separate, and I carried my major needs to what was officially a one and a half person room across campus. Returning the next day, I found the balance of my property in a garbage bag in the hall.

#2 was one

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