Now, my daughter's story.
Freshman year and she is assigned to live in an on-campus apartment. Nice apartment, with 3 bedrooms and two bathrooms. It's designed for 6 students, but because housing is limited at this school, 8 freshmen girls will live in this apartment.
Because we now live in an age of Facebook and a Twitter and texting, the girls all chat before school starts, and it looks like everyone is going to get along.
One girl didn't make it through freshman orientation. She started crying the moment her parents dropped her off, and didn't stop until they picked her up three days later. I can only guess what would have happened if her parents didn't come for her.
At some point my daughter's roommate found a boyfriend. Suddenly my daughter was getting text messages along the lines of "find a place to sleep tonight." Usually these messages would show up on her phone around midnight, as she was headed home.
Eventually the situation deteriorated. My daughter would be sitting at her desk doing work. Roommate and boyfriend would be there, too. Daughter would get up to go to the bathroom or get something from the kitchen, and they would lock her out of the bedroom.
The kicker is, the boyfriend lived two floors away, and had his own bedroom, no roommate.
The other girls all got along -- with each other. My daughter was the odd girl out. That didn't stop them from using her stuff.
The apartment had a single hookup for cable tv. My daughter brought the tv, and they all shared it. One day my daughter came home to find that someone's boyfriend had hooked up his laptop to the tv so that he could stream some show he wanted to watch.
She'd frequently find her pots, pans and dishes used and unwashed and sitting in the sink. What drove her over the edge, though, was how one of the girls ruined a frying pan -- apparently she had no idea you can't use metal utensils on a nonstick surface, and she used a knife to cut up her food while it was still in the pan.
But the best story?
My daughter attends a Catholic university. Many of the faculty are priests. Some of them are housed in the same apartment building as the students. My daughter's next-door neighbor was not only a faculty member and priest, but the Dean of Students himself.
So it came as no surprise that when one of the apartment mates decided to bake brownies with a secret herbal ingredient, she got caught. The R.A. showed up to deal with the situation, but I suspect it's because the Dean called her. I think the consequences would have been more severe if the Dean had to handle it himself.
My daughter was upset when the other girls told her the 6 of them wanted to live together sophomore year and she would have to find another group to live with. They did her a favor, as it turns out. She had a better number in the housing lottery than they did, got a nicer apartment, and wound up living with a girl who is now one of her closest friends.