I am not here to help you move in.

I leave that to able-bodied student residential college cheerleaders on spirit-steroids. Throw a vaguely applicable softball cheer their way and insert the name of your college and I guarantee those kids will all but hang your Starry Night poster for you.

I am also not here to tell you how much fun my Camp Yale experience was.

For me the first few days were a lot like a sleep-away-camp pageant. The kind where all the campers are locked in the dining hall for days on end, fed PCP-laced PB&Js and then whipped into a sensory-assaulting frenzy by director Baz Lurman.

I am definitely not here to be your freshman counselor.

I’ll leave the comforting, coddling, study-break hosting and dragging of your drunken ass to DUH to the professionals. On the up side, this means you and I can sleep together.

So enough of this figurative foreplay — let’s get right to the f-ing (point). Look, just lay back and enjoy. Ask your FroCo, I am the best literary lay around.

Jana’s Top Five Invaluable Indalian Insights Into Freshman Orientation.

(For those of you missed out on Cultural Connections, Indalian is a word used to denote my Indian and Italian parentage. Translation: I am brown!)

1. The Freak Secret

You and your roommate will be on your best behavior — initially. Take my word for it … this is a complete and utter sham. Enjoy it while it lasts. The thinly veiled facade of normalcy, likeability and faux friendship will crumble by the end of the semester. On paper, my freshmen-year roommate and I were a match made in eHarmony-heaven. October brought the extended stints of naked self-scrutiny in front of our full length mirror. By December the blizzard outside could barely compare to the snow that was being blown in our tiny tenement room. And I will not even get into my roommate’s crazy habits. Just know going into this that you are a freak, your roommate is a freak and the really sweet guy who lives above you … freak.

2. Do Not Be That Bigot

During orientation icebreakers, there is always one bigot. They use some sort of excuse about the sheltered reality of rural upbringing. Attention potential bigots: This is not “The Real World: New Haven.” You got accepted here. That means that you are literate and have encountered books, television and probably even a computer. You must have had limited exposure to national news coverage. Therefore, the laws of statistics dictate that you must have seen a person of color, met a Jew and heard of gay people. I beg of you: Do not say whatever you are thinking in that crazy brain of yours. Really, “That’s just ignorance!” Spare the rest of us and save it for the right-wing Blue-Booking-Party.

3. Reciting Your Resume Does Not Count as Conversation

Hey, guess what? I don’t care. And neither does anyone else. Nobody actually wants to talk about that robot you built and almost sold to NASA or the herd of albino llamas you rescued from near-extinction in Romania. We all get it; you are interesting and deserve to be here. Get over it. Stop and take a look at the people in your immediate vicinity. See that girl in the blue T-shirt? She is 15 years old and just finished addressing the healthcare crisis on her native island of Banaba. See the boy in the unfortunate denim shorts? He grew up in British Colombia without electricity or running water. His left leg is actually a prosthetic he crafted himself out of petrified luncheon meat and bellybutton lint. And that girl at the far end of the room? She grew up in the Bronx. Welcome to the Big Pond little mini-minnow … I suggest you start swimming.

4. Lie for the Fun of It

Over the next few days and months you will be meeting new people all the freaking time. You are not required to actually remember anyone’s name until November. While you have the chance, I urge you all to unabashedly lie to the people you meet. Try it and see just how fun it is to boldly introduce yourself by saying, “Yes hello. My name is Jackson Pollock Jr. I am the son of Roy Lichtenstein. The pleasure is yours, I assure you.” Keep a straight face and people around here will believe just about anything.

5. You Don’t Know How to Use a Condom — So Stop Pretending Like You Do.

Do not feel ashamed. With all those Math Meets and Model U.N. Summits you did not have yourself so much of the sex (or any of it, as is the case for the vast majority of you). Your sexual inexperience is one of the reasons why you are now a Yalie. A little known fact is that our substitute school mascots, should Handsome Dan join the GESO strikes, are the dynamic-duo of the Intact Hymen and the Two-Minute-Tops-Hard-On. Go ahead and feign disinterest during your mandatory Connections Workshop. But when I pull out that banana for the condom demonstration, start taking notes! Sooner or later you will find someone who will want to sleep with you. At that moment, you do not want to look like a total idiot with a condom half unrolled the wrong way and your member rapidly receding.

Cut out this column. Hang it on your fridge. Now, put down the paper and hit the town in your wolf-pack formation with your 32 newest and closest friends.

(Oh and pssst! Take your ID card out of that ridiculous plastic necklace contraption. I do not care what anyone says; that lanyard crap is not only the scarlet-letter accessory of freshmen, it just looks plain foolish).

Jana Sikdar is the love child of Gene Simmons and Donna Summer.