Read my lips, no new taxes. Don’t worry, DPS never tickets this lot.

Sure, I’ll call you.

Of course we won’t raise tuition!

Sometimes promises get broken.

I don’t know about you, but when someone doesn’t make good on a promise, I get mad. Therefore, when I make promises to others, I do my best to come through for them, which brings us to today’s column. I’ve been venting my views in the Daily on a weekly basis for about a year and a half. Occasionally, friends and acquaintances approach me with column ideas, usually involving themselves in some way. If I think they actually have a good idea, I tell them so.

“I’ll write about you sometime,” I say. “I promise.”

Well, wouldn’t you know it, the semester is winding down, and (cue the “Pomp and Circumstance” music) I am graduating. In the words of the late John Denver, I’m leaving on a jet plane and I don’t know when I’ll be back again. So, before I can depart Ames on the sunny side of the street, I need to wrap up my unfinished business. Not only do I need to fulfill my promises to these people, it is time to proclaim my senior wills. For those who didn’t experience these in high school, it’s the process of the graduating students “leaving” or “willing” certain characteristics, traits or traditions to underclassmen.

Let’s start at the top. To President Martin Jischke, I will the combined wisdom of this year’s graduates to help him run this university and empty hallways outside of his office door. The president has also been voted Best Eyebrows.

To the Government of the Student Body, I leave my dullest pair of scissors, in hopes that they don’t try to cut anymore of the athletic budget or anything else they promised to help fix.

While most of you would recognize the names of our GSB president and vice president who served us this year, we rarely pay tribute to the governing body’s chief of staff, Ryan Glanzer. Ryan frequently volunteers to serve as a feature piece for my column. “A day in the life of GSB chief of staff,” he usually recommends. I think a more personal effort is in order. If you are curious about Mr. Glanzer’s job and duties as chief of staff, I suggest you phone him and request a personal interview and shadow day. Ryan has been voted as Most Likely to Flash a Cheesy Political Grin.

To the nightlife of Ames, I will a life preserver. When compared to pubs in other cities, Ames establishments seem to be sinking. I’ve never been much of a barfly, but whenever I do go out to paint the town, I sense a dire need for more places to dance. Tazzles is fun if you must have a weekly dosage of “Oh, What a Night” or “My Sharona,” but it gets old as soon as your shoes start sticking to floor. Hunky Dory’s has been voted as both the best place to take your two-step as well as the most likely place to find a belt buckle bigger than your head.

To the University Lutheran Church and all the other religious organizations in Ames, I will an extra big bottle of Resolve to deal with Fred Phelps, the traveling Baptist Reverend who boasts of his Web site tagged “God Hates Fags.” Phelps plans to picket Iowa State during graduation weekend. Meanwhile, members of the Iowa State community plan to scrub down the area of Phelps’ filth as soon as he leaves town to rid the area of his nastiness.

To the students of Iowa State, I will the 52 smiles that I carry everyday on my yellow smiley-face lunch box. I am taking the tin protector of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and fruit with me when I graduate — and yes, I do plan to take it to work. Hopefully, the cheerfulness it created on campus will remain here.

Second, I will you strong ropes and some string. The ropes are for the good friends you make at school and want to keep strong ties with. Friends that will go to Donutland with you at 1:30 in the morning, go for mysterious runs in the moonlight, remember your birthday and drive you home if you need it. The string is for those people and incidents we might want to lose our attachment to. Perhaps you want to forget that guy you dated for a month before wising up, or the exam you missed because you overslept. Cut those strings, and you’re free of such horrible memories.

For those who have been waiting for a column mention — you know who you are — my apologies for taking so long to fit you in. For the rest of you, best of luck these remaining days of school. And don’t worry about finals, they should be a breeze this semester — I promise.

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Joanne Roepke is a senior in journalism and mass communication from Aurora.