Welcome to Cornell Diaries, where we print the anonymous recorded lives of Cornell students. While The Sun maintains the confidentiality of each writer, all facts have been verified and all diaries record the truth.
Thursday, April 8th
7 A.M.: Wake up. Time to finish the three hours of homework that is due today. Perpetually procrastinating is more than a habit, it is a way of life.
8:30 A.M.: Take a break, pick up The Sun. Skim the articles. If there is anything S.A.-related, I get mildly excited. Then I read it, and get mildly depressed — another story about incompetence. Tell me something I don’t know.
10 A.M.: Class. I actually show up today, which feels pretty good. But once I open my inbox, I can no longer pay attention. Too many e-mails to reply to. This club president wants to know why they don’t receive SAFC funding. This reporter wants a small quote to fill her piece. This professor wants to know why I haven’t been paying attention in class. I respond, send out a couple e-mails for my own organizations, then class is over. My teacher spoke about Marx for over an hour, and all I gathered is that the 1840’s really sucked.
11:30 A.M.: Head over to Libe Café to chat it up with fellow S.A. members. It’s like the Student Assembly’s home outside the Memorial Room. I sit with a stupid sign that says, “RESERVED for S.A. members,” hoping that one day someone will approach me with something they think the S.A. should be dealing with. Libe is where most of the politicking goes down, so I make some small talk with everybody, acting affable enough. Then I start talking about a resolution, and before I know it I am screaming at the top of my lungs to another member about how he is missing the point. Eventually I win over others, but the person I was talking to originally takes time to recover from the verbal lashing, giving me evil eyes and dirty looks for the next week. You would think S.A. members have thick skin, but in reality, we are dying for everyone’s affection, and we are pissed when we don’t get it.
12:45 P.M.: Statler for lunch. I see that the healthy salad costs eight dollars and the fattening cheeseburger costs two dollars, and my mind starts thinking about a resolution on making healthy foods more affordable. S.A. members are often fixated on writing new resolutions, even if they are just pipe dreams. I then reluctantly, but not unhappily, pick up the burger (and some sweet potato fries). I eat with someone that I have already broken two dates with and have a relaxing conversation. The next date is TBD.
1:30 P.M.: Another class. This one is with the professor who e-mailed me about my consistent inability to pay attention. I am alert, but this is a tough lecture to follow and the professor only writes scribbles on the board. It takes every ounce of my restraint to ignore the BlackBerry that is constantly buzzing in my pocket. Just can’t risk it today. I raise my hand a couple times, ask a couple questions to show I did the case law assignment and I pull through. Class ends a few minutes late as usual, and I am out the door.
3 P.M.: I arrive at my next class, 10 minutes late. I did not read for this class and the professor tends to use the Socratic method, calling on random students from his roster. I am terrified the entire time, but this guy is a great lecturer, so it’s almost worth it. Class is over, I get lucky once again, what a great day!
4:45 P.M.: Student Assembly meeting starts. Someone motions to approve the minutes from last week having never read them (it’s a tradition we have). A few announcements from committees. Then the mayor of Ithaca steps in the room wearing sandals and shorts. I feel vindicated for not dressing up in a shirt and tie like my colleagues. We listen, and then we ask a bunch of questions about noise violations, housing and the upcoming census. Most of the responses end in, “You could come down to City Hall and work with the council.” After the mayor leaves, we still have a few resolutions left; two of them get passed quickly (little charter changes that some members like to obsess over) and another resolution is presented that would make the anti-discrimination clause null and void — this one almost gets laughed out of the room.
6:50 P.M.: Dinner at my house. Almost everyone has eaten, but there are still a couple stragglers sitting at the dining table. I throw a plate in the microwave and start talking about the mixer tonight. When are we pre-gaming? What’s the theme?
7:45 P.M.: Run up to my room to send off a couple more e-mails and add stuff to my endless to do list. To stay organized I have a daily index card, a white erase board and I utilize the to-do list on my phone. I look at my white erase board to see all the different activities written in green marker: “Write op-ed on re-imagining Cornell, pick up a copy of The Robert’s Rules of Order, finish alumni bulletin for the chapter, write transparency resolutions, research the differences in public and private universities, etc. …” I feel organized, but very behind. Then I pick up some books, and I am off to Olin. I stop in to Libe Café along the way, pick up a sea breeze salad, another copy of The Sun, and scan the room for anyone I know. I see a couple, but remind myself that I have some work to do. I say hi very quickly, and I am off to the Austin computer room in Uris.
10 P.M.: I put the books away and log off the computer. It’s time to party. I walk back calculating about how early I am going to have to wake up to finish my work. I get back to my room, shower, change clothes, add a little gel and I am downstairs with a Bud Lite in 10 minutes.
10:20 P.M.: I play a few games of beer pong, and then I start chatting it up around the room. A few of the girls tell me they voted for me, I say thanks (honestly, it’s kind of a turn on). I start focusing my attention on this one girl, and I ask her if she wants to do a shot with me. We make decent conversation, and before I know it she asks to see my room.
11:15 P.M.: We lock the door and sit on my couch as I hold her in my arms. I can feel her biting my neck as things steadily escalate. A half hour later, she asks me if I have any weed. I do. We roll a small joint and I pass out, only to wake up a few hours later to finish my work.
Want to share your diary? Send us an excerpt of your day, week or month at [email protected]. RLD