The other day I decided to pull out an archive of my senior year that I have been slightly lax about lately. I'm warning you now - if you aren't a senior, this will seem like another sappy 22-year-old crying into a beer as she reminisces about the past four years. Don't worry ... your time will come, because I had the same reaction every spring. The class of 1999, however, should know exactly where I'm

coming from.

You see, I have a little 6 inch by 8 inch diary that holds the most important document written during my college career. My friends all affectionately refer to it as "The List," which gives it a kind of immortal quality that makes me feel it serves a purpose. It began last summer as a few personal goals I wanted to achieve before graduation, like doing the shuffle one more time, watching a sunrise, thinking up a classic "Yell," etc. As the weeks rolled by Fall Quarter, however, it became a mission - one that had destinations all over the globe and pushed all my fears and dreams to the limits.

Everyone has some sort of agenda before they graduate, whether it be a mental note, fleeting thought or written list like mine. As the year progressed, it gave me excuses to build memories and pushed me to continue relationships I was too tired or busy to do other years: drink Bloody Marys at the Junction at 7 a.m. on Homecoming, go to Cancun on Spring Break, hike Old Man's Cave.

It also gave me the power to show appreciation and humility: I made amends with an enemy, thanked a professor for teaching me something I didn't know and swung on a playground swing to remember that we are always kids. Every time one of the listed goals was met, it was crossed off accordingly with my lucky pencil. Forty years from now when my grandkids don't believe Grandma went skydiving, this will be my proof.

My list also made me realize painfully that I haven't utilized Ohio University for the experience it is. So I guess this is a plea to everyone, seniors or otherwise. We take so many things for granted in everyday life, and it is worthless to go through the motions of our days without really experiencing them. Rather than sitting inside watching talk shows all day my last quarter, which I could easily do as anyone who knows me will tell you, I want to be adding and crossing off my list.

It also taught me a lesson I'll never forget: our lives themselves are one big list. We might backtrack sometimes or fall in a rut, but there always is the opportunity to dust off an old dream or idea and see it through. So my newest task is to create a "Life List" of things I want to do before I die. It doesn't matter if I don't cross them all off, that would be missing the point. What is important is that I had the thought, for whatever reason, and it was important enough for me to want to experience it.

Now it's Spring Quarter, and life is busier than ever with shorter days and even shorter nights. Learning to grill like a man, explaining the "'80s Movie Syndrome" girls have to a guy, going fishing, playing in the rain, bowling at Rollerbowl and trying Jamaican food are all in my near future. My book is a bit worn with its dog-eared corners, but it is the Bible of my senior year, and I'm proud of it. In four weeks I will graduate and move to Washington D.C. to begin the rest of my life. "The List" will accompany me on my journey. I hope it serves as a source of strength where I can look back and see that I conquered fears, loved without worry and lived life like it should be lived.

So if this turnstile does nothing else, let it be a motivating factor to change one thing you do today. Seniors, hug a friend you won't see next year. Underclassmen, go somewhere you haven't been yet, whether it be as simple as Stroud's Run or elaborate as Montana. As for me, I'm graduating with the satisfaction that right now I am crossing out number 35 on my list - write a turnstile.

Kympton can be reached at dkympton@hotmail.com

Turnstiles are written by OU staff, students and Athens community members. They should be about 700 words, typed and double spaced. You may submit them to Sarah Wigdalski at The Post or send them by email to post@oak.cats.ohiou.edu.