First things first, Thanksgiving Break has reaffirmed the existence of some higher power. Whether it was Jesus, Zues, or the Aztec sun god Huitzilopochtli who blessed us with such a magnificent week, I thank you. I cannot stress enough how much better Bloomington is than Crawfordsville. Yes, they both have three syllables, but that’s the only thing they have in common: Bloomington has great local food, things to do that aren’t meth, and my friends. I have spent nearly a semester in Crawfordsville and I’ve longed for the delicious flavors of 4th street’s restaurants from all over the world. In Bloomington I can park my car and choose from Turkish, Korean, Thai, Indian, Mongolian, Chinese, or Ethiopian cuisine. Here in Crawfordsville I’m forced to decide between Culver’s, Long John Silvers, or Johnny Provolones–and there’s only so many times one can eat Johnny Provolones, yes I’m aware they have dessert breadsticks, quite aware. But enough about that, the easiest way to suffer through time in Crawfordsville is to compare it to the bottom of the sea, C-ville does have oxygen, so as a earth-walker I can’t really ask for much more. Oxygen and Wabash.
THINGS I’M THANKFUL FOR
Man oh man where to begin… I’m thankful I get to go to Wabash, this place is life altering in a positive way. It’s like being bit by a radioactive spider, ON THE BRAIN. Yea my reproductive organs are pretty idle here, but my neurons sure aren’t. There aren’t girls, but there are a lot of squirrels, which are consistently more entertaining and cute. Now I’m not saying Squirrels > Girls, because that just ain’t natural, but let’s be honest and admit that watching those fury little critters chase each other up and down trees is way cooler than the WNBA (Shoutout to WNBA champions Indiana Fever). When I went back home and saw my girlfriend it was as if heaven’s spotlight was shining down on her the entire time. She is always gorgeous, but after being constantly surrounded by hairy smelly dudes for two weeks prior, she radiated beauty like a glowing angel. So I’m thankful for that. I’m thankful I have a loving family: a dad who squirts whipped cream into each one of our 4 dogs‘ mouths for dessert, a brother who wasn’t in chemistry class on the day I visited my old high school (a classic Sonnefeld tradition), and a mom who prepared a glorious feast on Thanksgiving. I’m also thankful for lactose intolerance pills that make ice cream a reality for guys like me. I’m thankful that I got to finally go shopping for some new clothes, I felt like I was going full hobo the past month wearing the same coat day after day.
THINGS I’M NOT THANKFUL FOR
Dog hair. Dog pee. Dog poop. But not dog kisses, those are always nice. The next 3 weeks in Crawfordsville. The fact that cable in Martindale is practically nonexistent. We have no local channels, but somehow get 23.3 Bounce TV, whatever the hell that is. I’m not thankful for Sparks Center’s high turnover rate in omelet chefs. First Sara left (I Still remember her smile), now Brian’s called it quits, and I just don’t know if I can trust the world anymore. Will the sun come up tomorrow? And if it does will it just bring me a hearty omelet or merely a two egg scramble, because if so, I’d rather go to University of Maryland University College online (which I’m still not entirely convinced is a real college.) What I’m trying to say is, in a time of such change in a young man’s life, his freshman year, the one thing that could provide him some stability is a consistent omelet maker, one who knows that two scoops of egg solution in a thinly layered circle is the best method. Don’t just spray PAM everywhere, splash egg juice all over the place, and hope for the best. The last thing I’m unthankful for is Texas trying to secede from the union. Is this where you wanna be when the ghost of Abe Lincoln comes back to judge the living from the confederate vampires? C’mon Lone Star State, we’ve been great friends: we love your toast, you do football better than anyone else, and there was no better TV cop than Walker Texas Ranger. So can’t we all just get along (lil’ doggy)?