Freshman: you’re a virgin. I’m a virgin to this whole column business. We have a lot in common. As a sophomore, I am infinitely older and infinitely wiser than the masses of you that have been storming campus since last Friday. You’re probably homesick, most likely lost and definitely out of your element. Not that I was ever in that position. But I can imagine what it must feel like.

Since I’m a pretty generous person, all things considered, I thought I’d christen this new column with a little spattering of advice for the otherwise clueless 4,000 students that will be aimlessly confined to their dorm rooms, cafeteria of choice and the Cornell Store, because that’s all there really is to see in Ithaca, right? Well, almost.

Yeah, O-Week is sort of supposed to accomplish this goal. But, just like during sorority rush, OLs are not allowed to talk about the three Bs: Boys, Booze and … Bids? OK maybe not bids, but you get the point. So hear you me: playing those highly effective group bonding games — like the sit-on-your-neighbor’s-lap-in-a-huge-awkward-circle and/or the classic tell-everyone-1,500-times-where-you’re-from-and-whether-or-not-you-liked-the-Freshman-reading-project — is not going to help you survive the winter. (Well, maybe the lap sitting business might.)

So, trust me, this column is going to open your eyes to what a bumper sticker I read yesterday termed, “10 square miles surrounded by reality.” And if you think I’m ridiculous for quoting a bumper sticker, well, believe me that after living here for 12 months straight like I just did, those little fuckers become proverbial in Biblical proportions.

First of all, let’s discuss perhaps the most glaringly obvious reaction most students have to Cornell, even if they visited before accepting admission: “Holy shit, I just moved to what can essentially be called Bumblefuck, Nowhere. Population: two cows and a cornfield.”

This is partly true, yes. Granted, thanks to the Veterinary school, they are cows that have implanted viewfinders in the sides of their stomachs so students can see their 5,000 intestinal tracks in action. (Don’t believe me? I drove by one of those things and almost shat my pants. I floored my car so fast, I nearly killed the three people in Ithaca over the summer.)

However, there is so much more to do in Ithaca than just look at strangely modified livestock.

OK, maybe all this cow talk is not proving my point. So let’s talk about downtown.

OK, OK, for the 90 percent of students at Cornell that come from some area around New York City or Jersey, the word “downtown” and the actual Commons could be the subject for some overused punchline that I refuse to include in this column. But trust me, when you’ve lived here long enough, you’ll enjoy it for the small slice of civilization it provides.

Seriously, head on down to the Commons. With your roommate, if you want to. Or with a group of 40, as Freshmen tend to do for some reason. Check it out. Grab a Starbucks coffee. Yes, Ithaca has two, plus one in Barnes and Noble. (See, we are civilized!) Or better yet, be like the locals and grab a tea from Mate Factor. I can’t put it better than Sara Elizabeth J.’s Yelp review, “Okay, so it’s run by a cult, which is creepy. But the maple cremes and the ginger cremes are clearly made of crack-cocaine.”

Grab your drink and park it on some benches. Ignore the ones with creepy statues, they just make you look lonely. Take a sip of your orgasm-in-a-cup and just watch.

The first thing you’ll notice is hippies. Lots of them. Hippies playing bongos and demanding that you bang on their drums right now. Hippies asking you for a cigarette and, if you have none, a make out session. Hippies holding very serious conversations with light posts. Fabulous, fantastic, entertaining, friendly hippies. Hell, I know as a freshmen I could sit out there for a couple of hours at least and just watch the town pass me by. Trust me, they might freak you out now, but by the end of the year, when you’re sitting in your comfortable Long Island home surrounded by bleached out, Gucci-toting orange women and gelled up, diamond-stud sporting men, you’ll be craving this weirdness.

The next thing you notice is normal people. “What the fuck? Normal people? In Ithaca? Impossible!” Possible. Normal people going to the farmers market, buying some of the tastiest food you ever wrapped your lips around. Normal people shopping at Urban Outfitters, locally-owned dress shops, even Jabberwoks for a, er, water pipe. Normal people doing things at home you would have never considered normal.

Trust me, once you yank your tail out from between your legs, you’re going to embrace this. Yeah, it’s slightly unnerving at first. Some people find it just too different. Most students find this to be the most refreshing thing about an education at Cornell — it’s just so fucking different. And it’s great. Believe me, after your first year here, you will most likely share my opinion. And guess what? No one will think you’re any less normal for it.