Hi, my name is Taylor. Don't move my stuff.

So I've been at Dominican University for a week now, perfectly content in a single-meant-as-a-double room decorated with my crappy photography and fake flowers.  I have been so okay (understatement) with not having someone I don't know living uncomfortably close to me, touching (possibly stealing) my stuff, and being outright rude (ghetto?) for no reason.  You would think that after a week, I'd be home-free. Not so much. She moves in tomorrow night, while I'll be back home for Labor Day weekend. I swear if she touches my stuff, this will be taped to her desk:

Love, the innocent little white girl.