Anyone who has ever lived in a dorm knows exactly how unaccommodating they can be. The rooms are tiny, the hallways are drafty, the trash cans constantly overflow, the bathrooms are a bit shady and yes, the men’s side always smells somewhat “musky.”

Most of the dorms at the university have no air conditioning, and, in fact, they seem to have a rather uncanny lack of air circulation, particularly in the sweltering weeks at the beginning and end of the school year. Schoolwork is infinitely difficult to complete and rarely gets done before 2 a.m. with friends visiting, music blaring through the surprisingly thin cinder block walls and a roommate as a ready source of distraction. The microwave is in the lounge, the bathroom is down the hall, laundry facilities are far below in the basement and there is nowhere to cook your own food.

Needless to say, my friends and I were all happy when we signed the lease for our apartment next year. We were excited to be living together, and relieved to have found a place to live amidst the circus that was Room Selection 2008. But for some unknown reason, as the semester ends, I cannot seem to reconcile myself to leaving the dorms next year. Despite all its inconveniences, dorm living is one of the most unforgettable adventures in a college career, and I’m not sure I’m ready to trade my cinder blocks for drywall just yet.

I lived in Denton Hall my freshman year, and, like the first dorm experience of most freshmen, mine was something along the lines of baptism by fire. I distinctly recall running to my door one night to investigate an ominous mixture of rattling wheels and boisterous shouting, only to find half of my hallmates involved in a very tight desk-chair race. Not much was accomplished that night.

In a dorm, there is always something to do and someone to do it with, and there is always a distraction just around the corner. Trying to be productive in a dorm is like trying to eat with a spork: All the tools are there, but they don’t work effectively, and progress is very slow. How can anyone concentrate on schoolwork when there’s a makeshift Slip ‘N Slide in the hallway? Talk about productivity – that’s ingenious. Whether it’s a Slip ‘N Slide, an impromptu lounge dance party, an unofficial snowball fight or just staying up half the night for no good reason, anything works as an excuse not to start an essay, a lab report or a research paper.

There is rarely a moment’s peace in a dorm, and a lot of time is spent watching your back, waiting for someone to throw a pie in your face, fill your room with cardboard boxes or walk off with your mattress when you happen to leave the door unlocked. And don’t for a moment think you’re safe sleeping in your own room behind locked doors. Someday, you might wake up to find yourself trapped inside by trash cans duct-taped outside your door.

Perhaps the most vulnerable place is the shower. I was once convinced by my roommate to peek around the curtain for a moment, and I found myself face to face with a truly terrifying Halloween mask. It is also customary to have your towel switched, moved or simply taken away, and I doubt anyone has escaped the cups of cold water raining down at the hands of merciless, laughing friends.

In college, your dorm is your home away from home, and your hallmates are your family away from family. Living in a dorm is perhaps the single most defining experience in college. It’s an experience most people will have only once in their lives, and it only makes sense we should all make the most of it.

It’s late-night cramming for finals; it’s watching away games on a TV that’s too small; it’s planning the night so you shower at the same time as your roommate; it’s running (or biking) through the halls at 4 a.m.; it’s Slip ‘N Slides; it’s pies in the face; it’s distraction; it’s gossip; it’s pranks.

It’s your first experience at college, and you’ll never forget it.

Rachel Hare is a sophomore French and journalism major. She can be reached at rhare1@umd.edu.