After finally settling on a school, arguably the most exciting part about college is dorm-life and roommates. It's daunting uprooting your comfortable lifestyle and moving into a 143 square foot space that you need to share with another human being for an entire year. But I knew, despite going to a school that a lot of my high school friends were going to, I couldn't live with someone I already knew. I can't spend a three-day vacation with friends without being at each other's throats. That's just the reality of living in a small space and spending all day with someone you love; you wind up irritating each other. So, I always knew I would choose to live with a random roommate. It had worked out well for my sister, who's roommate from freshmen year wound up being her best friend and roommate for the next three years, as well.

So with an open-mind, I filled out all the required roommate and housing information. I took the standard questionnaire in which I was asked about my sleeping, studying and cleaning habits. It does not seem like a fool-proof system, by any means. How can ten vague multiple choice questions help to find my perfect match? After submitting all of that, I waited. And waited. I wouldn't hear back about my housing assignment until mid summer. The day they would be posted, I waited anxiously by my computer.

The first thing I noticed was the building I would be living in, one I expected. The second was her name. It was distinctly Chinese. I was beyond thrilled to get in touch with her and learn more about her. The only contact information the school can provide us with is the pre-generated university email address, so I quickly sent one out, hoping we would share phone numbers and social media usernames and become fast friends. After sending the email, I set my intermediate internet stalking skills to the test. I was dying to find this girl on facebook, Twitter, Instagram, anything. Unfortunately, when I searched her name, the only results were in Chinese characters or accounts from Japan, and there were no details telling me any of these people went to my school. So I figured I'd wait it out for a response to the hasty, likely over-eager email. And, again, I waited. One week went by of me almost religiously checking my email for a response, to no avail. I sent another, naively thinking the first one hadn't gone through. My friends tried to cheer me up, saying maybe she was on vacation or didn't check her email often. I also emailed my school's resident life office, asking if there was any more contact information they could give me, but I understand that for liability issues they could not. A month went by with absolutely no contact from her. Every possibility had run through my head, at this point, I'd nearly driven myself insane overthinking and wondering what she was like. It was also a bit difficult because all my friends around me were connecting with their roommates, talking about logistics, comparing schedules, figuring out who would bring the mini-fridge. I was envious, but I still had hope that she would contact me.

Come move in day, I was going in blind. I had brought all the appliances and items that were usually shared because I had no idea what she would have. At check-in, they told me she was already there. My first interaction with her was not auspicious: I walked in on her changing. She was, indeed, an international student from China and had been living on campus for a week already. I was right to assume she would have very little with her; her side of the dorm was almost as sparse as mine, which so far only had the provided furniture in it. She spoke English very well, but as the spines of her books would indicate, Chinese is her first language. I was so excited to spend the day with her. Unfortunately, after I was all moved in, she left. I didn't know where until she emailed me (yes, from the same email I had tried to contact her at twice over the summer) that she had gone to Boston. So, I went through the entirety of the scheduled freshmen events either alone or awkwardly tagging along with other pairs of roommates. I didn't get a chance to talk to her until much later that night.

After a week, I can say definitively that she is a very sweet girl, who I am learning is not all that different from me. We share a lot of the same fears and anxieties about the freshmen year experience. She has never shared a room with an American, despite going to high school in New England. We talked about our boyfriends, giggled about neighbors, and got deep when we discussed stereotypes. We have similar sleeping patterns and schedules. We still have not spent much time together, despite my inviting her to every meal and her expressing a desire to meet my "American friends" and assimilate into American culture. I think she is still adjusting and more comfortable spending time with other international students right now, but I know over the course of the year we will become better friends. I am glad I got matched with who I did, and, while it has definitely been an interesting experience dealing with the cultural differences and occasional language barrier, I am so excited to learn more about both my international roommate and myself during freshmen year.