On the way home from a cross-country meet on Saturday, my ID card fell out of my pocket and onto the seat of the bus; I discovered this later as I attempted to get into Coles Tower. The bus, the driver, and the card are now who-knows-where, and I'm considering it as good as evaporated.

Earlier today, I went to the Residential Life Office in Moulton Union to remedy the situation. As I walked up to the desk, Lisa Rendall came out of her office and said, "Oh, hi, Annie! You're back again, huh?"

I laughed and thought to myself, "Hm, I think she was here when my card wasn't working last time. That must be it."

But then something yet even more suspicious happened; when the staff member who fixed up a new card for me handed it to me, he said with a hearty smile, "Congratulations!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said, congratulations!"

Pause. "On what?"

"The number of cards you've lost! I think this might be the most I've ever seen."

I put the card in my back pocket, chuckled silently, and, face reddening, scampered out of Moulton. Convinced that the whole Res Life Office was cracking jokes at my expense, I stopped to think; just how many cards have I lost? Then the dismal truth hit me like a bus brimming with lost ID cards.

I lost count a long time ago. In fact, I'm not even sure how many cards have disappeared into the vast Brunswick abyss this year. I only first started suspecting the extent of my ID-card irresponsibility when my parents announced last semester that no longer would they sit back and watch the "replacement ID card" charges add up?from now on, I was responsible for the fee myself.

"You'll learn to be more careful with them when you have to pay for them yourself," they said.

So far, that theory hasn't played out; the absent-mindedness isn't so much disappearing as it is driving me further and further into debt. (If you're reading this, Mom, I'll write you guys a check when I'm home for Thanksgiving.)

I knew immediately when I was handed an ID card freshman year that it would become the bane of my existence; I was always one of those kids that was losing everything. Teachers had to help me organize my desk in elementary school. I've been known to forget my running shoes at cross-country practice. Much as Jessica Simpson uses her dim-wittedness to become charming, I hope that my spaciness is a cute personality quirk. Mostly, though, I'm convinced that my bi-weekly appearances at the Res Life Office are about as charming as Jessica's Chicken Of The Sea ads.

How in the world does one over the age of six manage to lose so many cards, you might ask. This is something I've found difficult to figure out myself. All I know is that I always surprise myself with my ability to come up with new ways; I've found supposedly lost cards under my shower case, stuffed into the bottom of my bed sheets, picked up by teammates who, running along, have noticed my card lying by the side of the road. I've received e-mails from the information desk at Smith Union letting me know they have my card, and I've sent at least three down the crack between the lockers and the bench in the women's locker room.

All of these, of course, were discovered about 12 hours after I went to Res Life to have them replaced. Another gem of a Res Life conversation was when I went to complain that my card wasn't letting me into any of the dorms: "This is an old card," they said.

"What?"

"You lost this card."

"Well, clearly not."

"Do you have another one?"

Shamefaced, I confessed that, yes, indeed, I did have another card, I just thought that that was the one that had been replaced. They all have that shiny, fresh, new-ID card look, making it difficult to discern which is the current one.

I'm proud to say my current card, number 538 or so (if I had to guess), is the only one in my possession. And though I still hold it is impractical to expect students to hang on to an itty-bitty card, I will do my best to guard it with my life. I've seen students carry them on lanyards, attach them to lengths of fabric that flow like kite trains from their back pockets, and stuff them in wallets (though the last thing I need is to lose this many wallets).

But, just in case, if you happen to be out on the Quad or in the Brunswick Commons, try keeping an eye out for a trail of lost ID cards?it's a good way to track where I've been.