1. The passive-aggressive
Perhaps one of the most lethal species is the passive-aggressive roommate.; Case in point: “Hey! I love it when you let your stuff leak to my side of the room! [plastic smile] It’s so funny because I totally trip on it in the morning! [plastic smile]” Beneath its smiling layer is a wrath that could ruin you if you don’t store your shoes the right way or keep the towels straightened at the sink. He (or she) just might throw your belongings down from the top of the clock tower when you’re not looking, later claiming that Donald Trump did it. Don’t cross paths with this creature because one glare will leave you petrified. *See dictionary definition under “Medusa” for more pertinent information.
2. The partier
There are two subspecies of this annoying group: 1) The type that just doesn’t seem to get the concept of “I want to sleep in peace, not with your latest hookup on my newly washed blanket. Please don’t kick me out of my own room.” Alas, you are forced to listen in excruciating pain to the kissing that’s going on two feet away from you. “Don’t get your cooties on my pillow, partier 1 and partier 2,” you whisper as tears stream down your face. 2) It’s 3 in the morning and he just came in drunk, muttering incoherent words. It’s actually kind of funny, but your amusement will end when he pukes on your favorite Cornell sweatshirt—and why not; you probably spent as much on that sweatshirt as you did on your college tuition.
Beware, kids. The partier makes college terrifying.
3. The Internet junkie
He seems to always be curled into a blanket ball, staring with brainwashed happiness at the screen of Netflix and Facebook posts. And wait a second—is that a cat riding a dragon into a volcano on his screen? You’ll never know when the likes, the hashtags, and the generally useless browsing will end. When will he ever turn off his MacBook Air? Rumor has it that every time the moon eclipses the sun, he will hiss and turn off his laptop as it slams shut. Take pictures of the moment and count that as your college job. (But it’s only news-worthy if he’s not using an Apple laptop.)
4. The late-night studier
It’s 2:13 AM and he’s still staring at his math homework. Hey, isn’t that the same problem he was stuck on the last time you looked up from your bed, at 1:33 AM? Don’t get me wrong, this species usually means well. But sometimes, you’ll run across an extremely tired one that merely turns to instinct to keep himself awake; he’ll turn on all the lights in the dorm whilst you cry in anguish and try to fall asleep. This species is in its earliest level of evolution, since the more efficient ones will realize that personal lamps do the trick. Maybe he’ll evolve to stop procrastinating… nah, that won’t happen. Not even the day that the Internet junkie turns off his MacBook. In any case, bring yourself to study with this inefficient being during the day so that he doesn’t ruin your non-nocturnal tendencies.
5. The overly friendly one
There are three subspecies of the OFO: 1) The type that is actually super kind and was probably raised on the nectar of rainbows and unicorns. Trust me, he’ll lend you his soul if you ask him to. Maybe even his gym pass. Maybe. 2) The type that cleverly puts on a smile and knows that you’ll come in handy during his first prelim crash study session. Be prepared to answer every question that could ever be asked; the idea that “there’s no such thing as a stupid question” will suddenly seem like a lie. 3) The one who is calculating your secret demise. You’ll be dead by the end of the year, and your supply of Big Red Bucks will be taken, too. Have your closest friend draft out your obituary for the Daily Sun.
6. The hermit
Rarely does the hermit make an appearance. After a long day, you’ll go back to your dorm and see that he’s once again sitting on his bed, chowing down a huge bowl of Cheerios and staring at his phone with an unread textbook nearby. Of course, that phone has no notifications or texts on it, save for the 13 useless notifications from the Cornell Class of 2019 Facebook Group. Better luck next year, hermit. You’ll make new friends next year, since you utterly failed to do so during O-Week and will now suffer for the rest of the school year.
7. The social butterfly
Like the hermit, the social butterfly has 13 useless notifications from the Class of 2019 Facebook Group. But unlike the hermit, the social butterfly is laughing at those stupid notification posts with the rest of his friend group on the way to Collegetown. His friend groups always follow three golden rules: 1) Must be composed of at least 5 people besides himself. 2) Must be composed of a nearly 1:1 ratio of girls to guys to show his utter ability to make friends with both genders. 3) Must be rotated on an hourly basis, with a possibility of 24 unique groups to hang out with per day. The social butterfly always has one of three base personality traits: very nice, very mean, or very drunk. Have fun figuring out which he falls under when he brings 10 upperclassmen from West Campus to your freshman dorm on North Campus.
8. The one who settles
This roommate species is perhaps the nicest of them all. Too nice. You might be the worst roommate in history, borrowing his expensive Cornell gear and not returning it, but he doesn’t say a thing to you. He is internally very sad about the various crimes you’ve committed in violation of the Roomie Brother-/Sisterhood, but what can he do? He’s too nice, similar to the first sub-species of the overly friendly one, yet he recognizes your terrible offenses. Try to figure this one out. If you’re being a total jerk of a roommate, stop. And give him back his only Orientation Guide, gosh dang it.
9. The one who insults you but doesn’t know it
“Wow, we all must be from the South! I’m so glad, because I TOTALLY hate Northerners!” And you’re just thinking, “Wait a second… but I’m from the North. Maine, in fact.” This species of roommate is one that simultaneously keeps you laughing in ecstasy and crying in sheer emotional pain from the violent sting of their words. Now, because of what he said, you definitely can’t be from the North anymore and will have to forever keep your peace about the life you used to know. Change all your past information and even your permanent address to one from Georgia or something. It’s time to start your life as a reborn man (or woman). The gist is that this species will ruin your life as you decay from within and become an angry, sad little shell.
10. The deaf one
There are two very different subspecies of the deaf one: 1) Everyone on your floor is dying of the extreme Ithaca cold, but somehow this one cannot hear it happen because your dorm is torn up with his extremely loud mixtape. For some reason, he finds it necessary to turn any kind of sound up to full volume. It could full well be the noise that a child makes when crying and choking on his own tears. But, my oh my, “My music makes homework fun to do!” he says. 2) Everything you tell him just goes in one ear and right out the other. The key is that he’s selectively deaf: You tell him to help you eat the pizza you ordered, and he decides that this is something worth hearing. Very well. Then you tell him to help you pay for the pizza he just swallowed whole. Common replies include “…” or “……” The deaf one survives on the sweet juices of the following mottos: “Huh,” “I don’t remember you saying that,” and “My bad.”
11. The one who complains
This species clearly never knew what “Cornell” meant when they pressed the “submit” button for their application. It didn’t know that “Cornell” involved actually having to communicate with people, or actually having to do homework. The best survival technique is to wait until second semester to hang out with an OWC, when he has likely become accustomed to the harsh Cornell environment. If the acclimatization never occurs, then you have the life-complaining variety of OWC on your hands. You’ll be doing your BioG 1440 homework when suddenly, BAM, the OWC starts a rant on his life. But the good thing is that you can be complaining buddies with your OWC roomie, which is good for those stressful days.
12. The “Survival of the Fittest”
A rare species that you’ll hardly ever see in your dorm; lives by the motto “sleep is for the weak.” (You know your SOTF roommate still lives with you though because your mini-fridge is packed with the free food he got from campus events.) Often attends morning classes all the way until the afternoon. Only says as many words as necessary. May skip meals and then pass out during CHEM 2070 laboratory because of hunger or thirst, then repeat the next week. A species that often scrounges as much money as possible and can commonly be found at the TCAT stop yelling, “I found a penny!” Grabs multiple fruit not just from RPCC but also from Risley. (That’s called guts.) Much is to be learned from this painfully efficient species. He’s probably an economics major and will be very good at ripping people off someday.
13. The Wanted-a-single-but-instead-got-placed-into-a-quadruple
Ah, perhaps one of the saddest of species. In times of duress, members of this species can be found lamenting their terrible, randomized luck in dark corners. You may find them wearing ski masks while crouched behind open doors, staring longingly at your single dorm for uncomfortably long amounts of time. Especially if you have a spacious Balch single. Keep your doors locked; you never know what they’ll do to get that single life.
14. The Why-did-I-get-placed-in-this-hall
A cousin of the Wanted-a-single-but-instead-got-placed-into-a-quadruple. Instead of craving the single life, the Why-did-I-get-placed-in-this-hall has demonstrated tendencies to long for other residence or program halls. The most common variety is the CKB-pouter, which can often be found telling friends “CKB has all the fun,” or in direr times, “b-but air conditioning…” Another very common variety is the I’m-actually-broke, which longs to live in either Risley or JAM but instead is forced to despair on the floor because it spent all its money on tuition.
15. The Pessimist
Much like #11 on the list. However, the pessimist finds it necessary to describe nearly all terrible aspects of not just his own life but also life in general, regardless of whether that aspect is actually terrible compared to the experiences of anybody else on campus. You’ll be eating your CTB bagel in bliss when suddenly, the pessimist begins ranting about how “the construction workers don’t want people to eat bagels because they evilly and intentionally built CTB so far away from North Campus.” Where did that rant even come from? Nobody knows. They say you must be the pessimist to know the pessimist, but that’s just a trap that this cunning species employs to turn you into one of them. Don’t get me wrong, the pessimist can be a good person at heart. But don’t let the pessimist fool you into thinking about everything that could ever go wrong.
16. The Optimist
A person unlike any other on the list. This species is the best to be around. While holding your binoculars up to the sun at the top of the clock tower, you may see him majestically soaring in the sky with a Pegasus in tow. It’s your job to be a member of this species. Because if you succeed, nothing will bring you down—not your prelims, not your lack of meal swipes on the 10 meal/week plan, not your “rather useless” chemistry professor. For the optimist, everything is smooth sailing, and everything has not just a silver but a gold lining. Maybe when you evolve into an optimist, you’ll remember that college at Cornell is an experience of a lifetime after all.