Last fall, I spent a long, regrettable night working on a term paper in Uris Library. Around 9 a.m., I stumbled out to the parking lot, opened my car door, placed my laptop on the roof so I could throw my backpack in the passenger seat and drove away. Without the laptop. It wasn’t until much later that day, when I’d finally awoken from my slumber and checked my e-mail in a friend’s room, that I realized the horrible fate of my computer. I’d received a message from the Cornell police saying that somebody had witnessed the deceased laptop fly off the roof of my car and smash against the pavement. The phantom witness apparently knew me, but decided, for some reason, to hand the battered device over to the police rather than issue me the bad news directly.

A few weeks ago, a friend e-mailed me a posting he’d found on Craigslist. It was written by a “spectacularly beautiful … articulate … and classy 25-year-old girl” looking to marry a man “who makes $500K or more.”

After modestly describing herself in these terms, the woman vents her frustration with past romantic (and economic) shortcomings. “I dated a businessman who makes [about] $200K to $250K,” she complains. “But that’s where I seem to hit a roadblock. $250K won’t get me to Central Park West.”

To the extent that children mirror their parents, Svante Myrick ’09 is about what you’d expect from the offspring of Mother Teresa and Nelson Mandela — an extraordinary model of compassion and moral vigor. During his first two years at Cornell, Svante has pursued an exhausting list of philanthropic endeavors, sitting on the council of the Public Service Center and the board for Raising Education Achievement Challenge. Pending Ithaca’s November elections, in which he is currently unopposed, Svante is headed for an even more impressive destination as one of the youngest black city councilmen in the history of the United States.

It wasn’t until I stopped playing competitive sports that I began to realize how crucial physical activity is to my overall well-being. Aside from obvious advantages to vitality, like increased life expectancy and the prevention of various terminal illnesses, regular physical activity is inextricably linked to mental health. But what I have also noticed in recent visits to the fitness centers on campus is that exercising — particularly in a public setting — showcases a variety of fascinating social phenomena: some bizarre, many amusing and others troubling. Most of all, I’ve come to realize that nothing exposes the hilariously pathetic symptoms of vanity like a good trip to the gym.

Orientation Week is an unusual time at Cornell. The community welcomes an entirely new class of students; others move into their new residences; and eager freshmen await their first few days of college. Excitement and anticipation abound. Unfortunately, however, Orientation Week and the partying that comes with it, also incite a level of police presence sufficient for securing central Baghdad.