Thanksgiving means different things to all of us. For most Americans, it means a tryptophan-induced coma topped off with pumpkin pie. For Penn professors, it’s an excuse to give an extra paper assignment, 300 pages of reading, and a midterm on Monday. For international students, it means attending lectures on the “history” of Thanksgiving.
Here are a few things about Penn that I’m thankful for:
1. Always having something interesting to read about in the DP … murder, sex, intrigue, Stetson …
2. Navigating Locust in the rain. Forget Pottruck; skipping across puddles and nearly slipping on leaves helps me get in my cardio early in the day. And, duh, rain boots are like, so fetch.
3. Late-nights in Van Pelt. You think that’s water in my Aquafina bottle? Think again.
4. Waiting in line at ABP/Starbucks/Williams Cafe/Gia. It’s totally almost like meditation, very soothing for my aura.
5. Soulja Boy. When the fifth person in a row elbows me during the dance which inevitably happens every weekend at Smoke’s, I really feel like a part of a social phenomenon. I am so glad to be a part of a generation that has its values in order.
6. Last but not least, I want to thank my immune system. Thank you for abandoning me, even after two courses of precious antibiotics from Student Health, and making me a wheezing mucus-monster. I’ve been so much more productive since I am forced to stay home at night … sort of.
So that’s what I’ll be thinking about this holiday, feel free to add to the list. I’m going to go make hand-turkeys out of paper bags and draw some pilgrims dying of dysentery on my Mayflower mural before I head back to Bucks County. To anyone traveling to warmer climates for break: I hate you.
Tags: Thanksgiving
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