Two and a half years ago, I arrived at this campus as a nervous, slightly insecure transfer student, completely unaware of what my future at Cornell University had in store for me. Now, after five unforgettable semesters, I leave Cornell in a similar state — a nervous, slightly less insecure college graduate, utterly clueless as to what my future outside of Cornell University will bring.

So it appears that not much has changed. In both cases (my arrival to Cornell and my departure from Cornell) I left a place, a people and a part of me that I cherished for a future filled with uncertainties and lots (and lots) of hard work. But where I started off is far from where I have ended up. Somewhere between my first days at Cornell and my very last, I managed to learn a few valuable life lessons ( … along with some less valuable life lessons).

I’ve learned that it is possible to study at five different libraries throughout the course of one night. I’ve learned that scaling the Slope never gets any easier and that the TCAT late night shuttle service is not to be trusted. I’ve also learned that there are never too many variations on the “Ithaca is Gorges” shirt (my personal favorite being the “Ithaca is Blows” version, which despite its complete disregard for correct grammar, is universally appreciated during finals week). And I’ve learned that “group therapy” does not necessarily refer to a service offered by the Gannett health center. Most importantly, however, I’ve learned that if you want something badly enough, persistence (see “stalking”) pays off — which is essentially how I became a columnist for The Sun.

Had I not inundated Zach Jones’ mailbox with sample colu-mns and inappropriate propositions on a weekly (and sometimes daily) basis, “Kit and Kaboodle” would not exist today. And just the thought of such a possibility — of being deprived of one of my most treasured experiences during my time at Cornell — leaves me completely at a loss. Fortunately for me, Zach gave in, and today I write my 25th and final column.

Throughout my career as a Sun Opinionator, I sought to provide my readers with a bi-weekly dose of irreverence. In essence, my objective was to address anything and everything that might be relevant in the Cornell community. (Thus, the moniker “Kit and Kaboodle” was born.) Judging by my past contributions, it appears that I have accomplished this mission.

From entire articles dedicated to completely useless but arguably entertaining information, to jabs at life’s (and my own) idiosyncrasies, to the critical and constructive evaluation of issues relevant in the Cornell community, I managed to address a vast range of subjects (as well as offend many a person with my sweeping generalizations and overall butchery of the English language).

Well, now it’s time to enter the next stage of my life, whatever that may be, and I find myself unable to let go. For the second time in my college career, I must say goodbye to something great. But first, I must give thanks where thanks are due.

To my friends and family back home who, without fail, logged onto the Sun website every other week in anticipation of my most recent and embarrassing disclosures: thank you for your love and encouragement. I particularly need to thank my mother, who has supported me throughout my highest highs and my lowest lows and often served as my personal editor.

To my actual editor, Carlos Maycotte: My dear, dear man, I know how painful it must be to lose your favorite opinion columnist. Fortunately, you are only losing me. Thank you for your patience, understanding and insight, particularly when faced with a severely late or largely unfinished column. Or both. Also, many thanks to my first editor, Zach Jones, whose writing not only served as a shining example of self-deprecating wit, but whose columns also made me laugh out loud in the “quiet study” room of Uris Library. And finally, to the Editor-in-Chiefs, past and present, Erica Temel and Erica Fink: your dedication to this newspaper has been nothing short of inspirational.

To my pledge class: together we defied the stereotypes, usually at the expense of our sex appeal, but always in the name of fun. You ladies made my sorority experience better than I could have ever imagined. To Sophie and Tessa: what started out as a Transfer Center rivalry somehow evolved into two extraordinary friendships. Thank you for helping me to laugh at my mistakes … and for allowing me to laugh at yours. You have completely transformed my Cornell experience. To the rest of my housemates, Katie, Kara and Gillian: I appreciate your ability to “keep it real,” even when this means chasing mice or investing in a plunger, and always with a mango-flavored energy drink in hand.

And to any and all of you who have wasted your otherwise perfectly useful time on reading my articles, thank you for humoring me throughout these past years. You have not only given me a voice but also an outlet for that voice to be heard, and for this I am extremely grateful.

Well, I am approaching the dreaded word limit, which can only mean two things: first, that Carlos will threaten me with an ancient Mexican hex if I attempt to write any more, and second, that it is time for me to wrap up this chapter of my life.

I’ve come full circle. So I guess this is it, folks — the whole kit and kaboodle.

Naomi Goldin is a senior in the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences. She can be contacted at ngg6@cornell.edu. Kit and Kaboodle appeared alternate Wednesdays.