The horrific stories from first-years past, compiled by Bwog staffers.
This is simply the first-year experience.
I got ultra drunk at glasshouse rocks the night before my bio midterm. Puked in the shower!
I got too drunk at a party so two of my friends from Columbia walked me home. After they dropped me off I puked in a bag but drunk me forgot that I had to go sign them out (dumb rule) so I, in perhaps the messiest state of my life, had to walk them back down to the lobby and then two public safety officers walked me back to my dorm where I went straight to sleep.
I puked in a bush on the way to my first-ever midterm and the TA’s still made me take it.
I puked on my friend’s carpet after drinking a full bottle of wine, also in the bathroom and the hallway.
I decided since it was my younger sister’s first unsupervised visit to Columbia I would take her to her first college party; proceeded to throw up on her on the way out.
I had approximately 9(?) jungle juices at beta one night. The next morning I booted extensively but did not rally.
I got a comically terrible fake ID––the bouncer at 1020 actually laughed at it one time.
I went out every day one weekend (Thursday-Saturday) and attended Sunday breakfast only remembering Thursday.
I got wasted at my first party. came back to my dorm and started speaking exclusively in french.
Bwog had roommate issues:
My first roommate built a wall of fairy lights between our beds cause she hated me.
My second roommate’s best friend puked on our carpet at 3 am. As an apology, my roommate bought me a bag of Levain Bakery goods!
Waking up to my roommate staring at me and then later making vague threats about breaking glass bottles on heads (after months of living peacefully together).
My first roommate told me I looked like I’d gained weight when we came back from Thanksgiving break.
I heard my RA having loud sex next door multiple nights. And her bed was right next to the wall. As was mine.
I accidentally cut my leg open while shaving, and I cried so hard my roommate was called.
I had an extremely tearful mental breakdown in the middle of JJ’s during days on campus in front of way too many terrified prospies.
I was sitting on the Furnald lawn late at night the first week of school with a bunch of people I had met during NSOP that I thought were really cool when I randomly got super overwhelmed and ran away sobbing to one of the benches by the air vents across from Pulitzer. I stayed there until they all went home and I had written a really emo poem about it.
Crying (loudly) in the Brooks/Reid staircase and having it echo through all 8 floors…
I cried about a boy in JJs at 3 am extremely drunk and vomited into a plastic cup and a bowl of overnight oats. I then forgot what I was crying about.
Took my first chem midterm, and cried the entire way back to my dorm as soon as I left the exam room.
Cried in so many office hours, advisor meetings, etc. Essentially cried every time I was alone with an authority figure.
Bwog had lovers’ woes:
I fell in love with a straight girl.
I kissed a girl after one date and it was a complete disaster as we were both bottoms and we had to see each other a lot because… the quad.
Every hookup I had with a Columbia man was its own horror story tbh. Thank god I’m not straight.
Bwog felt awkward:
I was caught smoking weed in Furnald (BAD IDEA!!!! SO BAD!!!! NEVER DO ANYTHING IN THERE!!) and had to go to a very scary disciplinary hearing.
I once pulled a girl aside in one of my lectures after class to tell her off (in a really calm tone) about repeating a question that had just been asked and causing a disturbance by dropping her hydroflask (which proceeded to fall down 9 steps) because she was on her phone the whole lecture. I was truly trying to look out for her because she could have evaded these situations had she not been absorbed in her phone. I’m now sorority sisters with her.
During an NSOP event, I was chatting with a random guy. We talked for a bit, but after I walked away I saw some of my floormates looking at me and snickering. I later found out that they were betting on if I was going to try and sleep with him. I had literally known them for less than a week, but felt uncomfortable for the rest of the semester.
Bwog did not feel alright:
I vomited on my friend’s floor and immediately fell asleep, making him clean it up. At least this is what I think happened.
Smoked bad weed and hallucinated while walking down 115th.
Ate some innocent-looking food at a party and accidentally drugged myself.
I had the absolute worst stomach bug of my life during NSOP. I can and will lead a tour of trash cans I’ve puked in on campus.
I devoured a shady JJs tuna melt very crossed and forgot I was eating with my friends five times while they were sitting at the same table as me.
Bwog learned how to adult the hard way:
I forgot to clean my water bottle that I used for drinking iced tea for a month and found out the entire bottom was covered in mold.
I put too many tide pods in the washing machine when I was washing my duvet, so when I opened the door a Lot of soap spilled onto the floor of the laundry room.
Nobody told me how to get into John Jay (the dining hall) so I went up to the John Jay (the dorm) desk attendant and handed him my ID. He took it, looked at me, then asked, “What are you doing?” in such a way that I knew he was thinking that I was a weird Barnard student. This was already a few weeks in and I had to deduce for myself where the entrance was because I didn’t dare ask.
I drank a liter of water very quickly after standing in the sun for hours and then decided to go check out the law library. When I got there, I became incredibly nauseous and ended up running around the basement of the law library alone looking for a restroom before vomiting.
Unknowingly doing unpaid labor for the Columbia Debate Society (of which I am not a part) at 7:15 am on a Saturday after being out until 2 am the night before (mostly my fault).
Went to a concert in Brooklyn by myself. My phone ran out of battery, so I had to make it back to Columbia at 2 am using street signs and my foggy memory.
Disclaimer: Bwog does not condone substance use or underage drinking.
face palm via Wikimedia Commons