Hey freshmen, welcome to the first Berry Patch of your college career. We’re here to sum up everything you might need to know about anything, then force feed it to you with side dishes of mediocre humor and over-done cliches. Occasionally “real editorials” show up in this space, but for now, we’re just enjoying Orientation Week. Speaking of the big O-Week, if you haven’t been paying attention, here are the four types of people you’re likely to have met, checked out, then subsequently forgotten. Don’t worry, you’ll run into them sooner or later. The one-third of Cornell’s student body that leaves their dorms are bound to stick together.

The Name/Hometown/Major Guy

We’ve all been there. After an hour or so at a house party you’re trapped with some personality-less person and he poses the cringe-inducing question, “So what’s your major?” Really, dude? Nothing kills the mood more effectively than the three-question gauntlet of name/hometown/major. Ask me if I play ping-pong, or own a guinea pig, or like kayaking. Come on man, say anything but the phrase, “So what are you studying?”

That Facebook Friend Whore

We’re looking at you, administrators of the “Class of 2014 OMG SO EXCITED TO MOVE INTO BALCH!” Facebook group. Even though you thought you were subtle with your mass friend requests (“That’s so weird that we both have The Office  listed as our favorite show!” “Whoa that’s crazy that we’re both from Long Island!), we’ve caught onto your scheme. That’s right, we’ve all noticed that it’s not possible for you to actually be friends with 853 members of the Cornell network before you’ve even been here a week. Also, word to the wise: “I think I recognize you from Facebook” is not an effective pick-up line.

The Experienced Drinker

If someone goes out of their way to work the names of obscure drinking games into casual conversation, stay away. It’s not the fact that he’s an Experienced Drinker that makes him painfully annoying. It’s more the way he won’t stop talking about these sick-nasty keggers his best friend used to throw in high school. He may say things like, “Is that a fucking chaser?!” or, “I can’t believe they don’t serve Keystone in RPCC.” Also, Ronnie-from-Jersey-Shore-esque drunken outbursts are a strong possibility with this one.

The Planner

This young woman has had her Orientation Week planned down to the minute ever since the schedule arrived in the mail. She was first in line for the 8 a.m. Netprint 101 session at the Tatkon Center and although class hasn’t even started, she already has all of her textbooks (purchased on Amazon, it’s cheaper) and binders (color coded by subject) ready to go. A lost day planner or crashed desktop calendar induces long periods of deep depression. Which isn’t to say she’s not fun — The Planner will go out on weekends, and she’ll be toting a map with penciled-in routes from frat to frat.