Ephelia, I thought I saw you in the line at Whitmans’. Do you actually eat there?

Of course I do. Do you really think I just graze on Stone Hill all day, like some common farm animal? I am a modern and sophisticated cow: I have taste! That being said, going to Whitmans’ does present some challenges for me. For example, the buffet line has high stakes. You see, I make one wrong choice, and I’m committing cow-nibalism in broad daylight. The worst part has to be swiping in. It’s very hard to hold an ID with my hoof, and don’t get me started with the turnstiles. But it’s worth the struggle — I’d do unspeakable things for that cheeseburger macaroni soup. Is it really cow-nibalism if no one sees me?

How do I get my mom to stop calling me every day (semi-nicely)?

Well, there’s always the standard route: claiming you’re swamped with work (Zillow stalking your professors and WSO stalking your classmates). If that doesn’t work, you’ll need to get creative. Try answering the phone in increasingly strange locations (the middle of Cole field, a storage closet in Thompson biology laboratory, underwater at the Samuelson-Muir Pool) until she gets weirded out and stops calling. If she still won’t quit, there’s always the nuclear option: Telling her that you’re considering a doctorate in art history. She’ll stop calling and start praying.

Should I apply to 100 internships, or is 99 enough?

At this point, don’t stop at 100. Apply to 1,000. Apply to 10,000. Apply to ALL of them. Apply to be the CEO of Okta. Apply to the CIA just to mess with their watchlist. Apply to be President Maud S. Mandel. It’s a numbers game, and if you don’t cast a wide-enough net, you’ll end up like last year’s seniors — mysteriously reappearing at Goodrich, pretending they never graduated. You know how it goes: If you don’t get an internship summer after freshman year, you’ll be blacklisted from the job market for life.

I accidentally made eye contact with someone I ghosted. How do I recover?

First of all, remain calm. Do NOT attempt a polite nod — the universal signal of weakness. Once you realize your fatal mistake, your best move is to commit fully: Act like you don’t even notice them. If they wave, squint like you’re trying to figure out if they’re really there and swivel like you’re looking for someone else. If they start to make their way towards you, hold up a finger and say “one sec,” then walk into the nearest building and never come out. If all else fails, claim they were the one who ghosted you. You know the mantra: Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss.

How can I get the most bang for my buck on a meal swipe?

You have to think strategically. First, maximize volume. The only thing limiting you from another takeout container at Resky is yourself. Second, prioritize longevity: Grab the hoardable goods. I’m sure you’ll eat those Lee’s oranges at some point. Third, turn to the black market: It’s time to start striking deals. Trade a Goodrich coffee for a Driscoll waffle. Sell an ’82 Grill pizza at a markup during that weird 2 p.m. to 5 p.m. weekend window when there’s no food on campus. Barter a full meal swipe for help on a problem set. This economy is your oyster.  

Real talk though, the answer has to be Eco Cafe. Coffee, a bagel, AND yogurt for one swipe, plus getting to say “hi” to the Eco Cafe ladies? You’re living the dream.