To my future roommate Rachael Ji Yoon Kim

There is something about me that I feel obligated to warn you of, something that may or may not surprise, alienate, or even horrify you. I’m an addict—hopelessly addicted to words. I thought you should know.

Due to this constant craving, you may often find me merrily munching on the contents of a poetry book, or timing myself in an intense game of speed scrabble (my record best word is “pretzel”). If you’d like to join me, you’re quite welcome; my addiction includes chatting with people.

As I am an individual with idiosyncrasies, there are some things that irk me. Straw wrappers and mini orange juice cartons cluttering the floor are among my greatest pet peeves. My roommate at Johns Hopkins ran on orange juice. Without her juice, she was like an un-oiled Tin Man. However, she always threw away her juice packaging and straws—on the floor. Naturally, when I walked around our room, little plastic straw wrappers stuck to my socks. Trust me, I’m an avid supporter of Vitamin C. Nevertheless, I enjoy sanitation and neatness.

Have you seen the Broadway musical “Wicked”? Galinda identifies her roommate Elphaba as “unusually and exceedingly peculiar and altogether quite impossible to describe.” You may find that Elphie and I share many...