Welcome to Cornell Diaries, where we print the anonymous recorded lives of Cornell students. Every week, a new anonymous diary will be printed. While The Sun maintains the confidentiality of each writer, all facts have been verified and all diaries record the true, unedited lives of different Cornell students.

Female, Junior, 21, Arts & Sciences

Friday, October 18

6:00 p.m. Pick up three grams of coke from dealer at his apartment. Hoping that it will last at least a few weekends.

6:20 p.m. Run into seminar professor; make up awkward story as to what I was doing in the area.

8:30 p.m. Dinner reservation with boyfriend and three friends, one with a keffiyeh around his neck. One bottle of wine later, the entire restaurant is shooting us dirty looks. Order an entrée.

8:48 p.m. Keffiyeh-wearing friend announces that everyone in the restaurant fucking sucks and proceeds to try to pay for all of their dinners. Several tables swiftly pay their bills and leave.

8:50 p.m. Appetizers served; quick bathroom break for a key bump to avoid hunger.

9:30 p.m. Second bottle of wine served with entrées; one more key bump in the bathroom.

10:25 p.m. Skip dessert; one more glass of wine; drive back to Collegetown apartment.

10:50 p.m. Cut five lines for friends. Right after laying them out, the doorbell rings; we all rush into the bedroom, snort quickly and go back outside. Realize it’s just a friend; all is well.

11:15 p.m. Six lines this time. Lost high bill; have to snort with a dirty low bill. Afraid I’ll get HIV / Hepatitis / a cold from some crackhead who used the bill before us.

11:40 p.m. Eight lines, two for each of us. Someone turns on really loud music; people start dancing. Switch from vodka tonics to water to avoid dehydration.

Saturday, October 19

12:05 a.m. Four lines.

12:30 a.m. Five lines.

1:15 a.m. Four lines; down to four of us. Discussing politics; two of us are staunchly conservative, the other two are voting for Obama. Neighbor comes over to say hi in his pajamas with a bottle of Jim Beam. Doesn’t mind the coke tray; adds his two cents and heads back to bed.

1:40 a.m. Group of drunk rowdy friends stops by. Half are fiending; we say we ran out. Three of us go into the bathroom for a quick bump.

2:15 a.m. Friends leave after I am bitchy enough to get it across that I am tired. Feel bad for being a bitch; feel better and less tired after a few more lines between the remaining four of us.

3:00 a.m. Another round of lines.

4:15 a.m. Decide to call it a night. Ambiens all around to help us sleep after all the blow. Friends head home to bed; lay in bed with boyfriend until Ambien kicks in. Sleep.

7:00 a.m. Wake up after nightmare that mother and her boyfriend got married; realize it’s untrue after frantically calling mother. Boyfriend is annoyed that I woke him up. Back to sleep.

12:30 p.m. Wake up, brush teeth, shower. Check damage from last night; call cleaning woman. Only one gram left.

1:15 p.m. Go to doctor’s office downtown with a friend, haven’t been feeling well for a few weeks. The doctor recommends an HIV test. She explains the test to me, and I rub the stick along my gums. She tells me it will be 20 minutes; I wait in the depressing room.

1:25 p.m. Pretty Latina nurse comes in and asks if I have friends or family for emotional support. Start to freak out, think of all the dirty nail salons my feet have bled in and the dirty dollar bills that have been up my nose. Convince myself that I have HIV; figure out how I will explain this to boyfriend.

1:30 p.m. Still freaking out. No sign of doctor or pretty nurse.

1:35 p.m. Doctor comes in. No smile.

1:36 p.m. Test came back negative. Thank God.

1:50 p.m. No solution for my illness; pay the $100 dollar fee and leave. Friend got no answers either, also had HIV test, also negative.

3:00 p.m. Library for forever.

9:30 p.m. Church. Pray for my sins. Feel a little guilty. Throw a little extra in the collection basket this week.