Name, school: Rubeintz Bennett Philippe, CC

Claim to fame: Co-founding a failed comic book company. Getting people Daily Show passes while interning there. Nothing else that really lends itself to acronym form. Mostly just being that black French-Canadian kid with the untraceable accent.

Where are you going? Home to Montreal to finally get my driver’s license—no judgment—and then onward to Austin TX for this fellowship thingy I’m truly psyched about. And stopping at an animal shelter along the way to finally get a dog because it’s been 23 years and that needs to happen like, now.

Three things you learned at Columbia:

1. How to bask in the awkward and confused silence that comes with answering “Creative Writing” to the “what’s your major?” question. Especially in a circle of iBanking folks comparing incentive packages.

2. That watching scandalous porn as a group is perhaps the most effective floor-bonding activity there is.

3. Teaching us to convincingly BS in an open forum of peers is one of the implicit goals of the Core seminars. And a pretty useful skill to develop at that.

Justify your existence in 30 words or fewer:

I make white guys everywhere feel better about their dancing.

Is the War on Fun over? Who won? Any war stories? Not really. The worst oppressor to my fun has always been me. Can’t exactly blame the establishment for staying in with the NBC Thursday night lineup and the phone turned off only to find that your friends ended up at a Brooklyn warehouse party the next day.

“Back in the day…” Chatroulette was a thing but no one would tell me why. Oh and we didn’t have ROTC on campus which I think made us a lesser community. That’s right: things just got barely political up in this house!

Would you rather give up oral sex or cheese? It’s unlikely that I’ll ever find myself in the predicament of a committed, emotionally fulfilling relationship with someone who gives really bad cheese.

Advice for the Class of 2015:

Between core section assignments, roommates, the housing lottery, and class registration, a lot of your life here will essentially be a crapshoot. Learn to go with it early on, or you’ll drive yourself ragged trying to get everything right every six months.

Don’t freak out the first or second time you change your major. Maybe the third though.

Democrats, get to know the Republicans around you. Republicans; hit up those Dems. You’ll either be pleasantly surprised or they’ll be dicks and reaffirm all of your beliefs. Either way be grateful; you have no idea how aggressively dull Canadian politics are.

Try not to roll your eyes too much. From kids who use the word ‘cachinnation’ to overeager TAs who insist on sitting down with every last student in a 140-person lecture; in 4 years, nostalgia will file everything under ‘Precious Memories’. I guarantee it.

Don’t do your online shopping in class. #ivyleaguebitch is supposed to be satire.

To borrow a line from my boy Sebastian; kiss the girl. Or guy, whichever. When you’re in that moment—at 1020, Westside Market, or wherever—absolutely go for it. We need more romance around here. It’s kind of dire.

Absolutely no whining about the core, children. You all read the goddamn pamphlet before getting here.

Most heated discussions, from abortion to race, can usually be defused by talking about Glee. People here go absolutely ape-feces for Glee. I’ve had 80-minute lectures centered on Glee. So on that note, become conversationally savvy about Glee—Who knew Santana would turn out to be so complex, am I right?

Any regrets? Buckets of them! Not squeezing a History concentration in there, stepping barefoot on a used tampon in a common bathroom, having a Keyser Soze moment a month later when I realized whose it was, having occasional bouts of friendship ADD (sorry Sabine), calling a professor’s book “innately flawed” in a term paper worth 50% of the final grade, etc…But again at this point nostalgia is working its magic.

Stay classy, Morningside.