I have a dirty little secret: I’ve never been to a frosh event. I’ve also never attended a McGill sports game, joined a club or even been inside a university rez. No, I’m not a hermit, or even anti-social. I’m a Montrealer. One of those cool but elusive people you meet in one of your classes then never seem to encounter again.

I’ve done my best to go to school without ever having to actually attend. I took pride on making a schedule without breaks in order to ensure the least amount of time spent on campus. I’ve also shied away from after-school activities that would force me to be downtown once the sun has set. It sounds bizarre, but for me-and many other Montrealers-university is not home. It is the extension of that tedious high school experience whose completion we all anxiously awaited.

I understand the frosh impulse-well, kind of; beer bongs at 10 a.m. still seem incomprehensible, by any stretch of my imagination. But moving here from Toronto or Boston or Los Angeles must be terrifying. And what better way to make new friends than bonding over the fact that you’re of legal drinking age?

But I’ve been there, done that. I know where the good bars are, and who makes the best 4 a.m. pizza (the spinach slice from Dany’s on de la Montagne gets my vote, in case anyone’s curious.)

Having grown up in this wonderful city that many of you are just coming to discover, I clearly have a different kind of relationship with McGill and the university experience. I live at home, as do most of my friends. The majority of us have known each other since high school, often elementary. It’s a hard shell to break out of, and one most of us find unnecessary to leave. And therein lies the problem. I’m comfortable, probably too comfortable. There is no motivation to seek out anything new, which explains why I frequent the same three bars every weekend.

University should be about finding yourself, growing up-or at least that’s what they say on TV. We’re missing out on the “college” experience. Do we want to look back and remember all the brilliant ways we avoided having to actually take part in anything McGill related? If so, I’m paying way too much for tuition.

I know this isn’t for everyone. There are those crazy McGill Montrealers who are chugging down Boréale with the rest of the froshies. You don’t have to read this. But for all of the Montrealers who get a little queasy at the idea of “getting involved” ­- go explore. I know my West Island friends balk at the idea of having to come into the city on a weekend, as do my fellow Cote-St-Luc-Hampstead-Montreal West buddies. But trust me, you won’t melt. Pick out an unsuspecting foreigner and impress them with your knowledge of bars and restaurants that are located – gasp – on a street besides St-Laurent and rue Crescent. Take advantage of the clubs and activities McGill offers. Eat a samosa if nothing else. But above all, just go get out there.