It's just like walking to class, except faster. And without clothes.

Eve Shabto attempts the most absurd of intramural sports, innertube water polo.

With the slightly nicer weather of the past few days (kind of, not really) the refreshing air seemed like a good enough excuse for a joy ride. And, of course, an opportunity to cross off #86 before it Ithacates all over campus again and seriously complicates driving and transportation. Carpe diem, as they say. 

Former Daze writer Eve Shabto returns with a take on selected things to do before graduating. 

Click to see The Sun's guide to Tuesday's life and news. 

In this week's penultimate Big Red Ambition column, Jenni Warne makes some suggestions for updating the infamous list.

This week, Jenni Warne tackles #146 on the 161 List ... CourseEnroll (aka: the horrible 7 a.m. race to claim classes). 

Last Thursday night, I found myself in an unusual position. While what seemed like the entirety of the senior class was soaking up the warm weather and downing sangria at CTB and, later, going out in full force on the streets of Collegetown, I was at the library.

Graduation is swiftly approaching, and some people are scrambling to complete the list of 161 things to do before you graduate. While I never sought to complete the list, in close to four years in Ithaca, it’s pretty easy to get a lot done. What’s more important, frankly, is to amass a list of things not to do during your time at Cornell. And so I’ve compiled such a list — a list of things I will absolutely not do again, and that I would recommend you avoid as well. Thus, here it is: a list of things not to do in Ithaca before you graduate, or after you graduate, or really ever at all, from an old and experienced senior.

On the first night of Orientation Week, alone and lost, I called my roommate in a tearful panic.

“Jenni, where are you?” she screamed into the phone.

“I’m lost. I can’t see you. I don’t know where I am. I think I’m about to get arrested.” I cried and ran to hide behind a bush as a police car drove past me. I was living out everyone’s worst first week of college fears. Alone, slightly intoxicated and completely disoriented — I couldn’t imagine a worse way to start off the year.

“Just look at the street signs. What do they say?”

“Um … Cook and Eddy,” I managed to spit out through my tears. There was a click at the other end of the line — I’d been hung up on.