These are a few of my favorite things.

Behold.

1) Divine retribution. One day I went to the grocery store to get some bagels, and perchance, some fancy flavored schmear. Two items. As I was walking to the only cash register open at that ungoldy time of morning, a woman with two grocery carts (one which she pushed herself; the other pushed by a surly child who surely would have preferred death by anaconda than be there) raced to be in front of me and cut me in line. The cashier shot me a look filled with sympathy and compassion as he began to scan. The woman argued with the price of nearly every object (including, ahem, some rather interesting feminine hygiene products) and then, when the cashier was just about to put his carpal-tunnel wristguard on, she issued forth a pile of coupons that had a gravitational pull. Dutifully the teenage cashier scanned each coupon, alerting the woman to the fact that she had saved a grand total of $4. Yes, $4. She took out her credit card and the cashier swiped it. He swiped it again. He picked up a phone and made a hushed two minute phone call, and then took out scissors and cut the woman's card, right there, in front of me. The entire ordeal took more than twenty minutes. I could have checked out 20 times in that span of time. Believe what you will, but I took it as a sign from something somewhere that the wicked are punished.

2) Sordid stories. Just when you think your life is bizarre, talk to your friends. Granted, everyone has friends who are just plain dull--perfect lives, perfect spouses, house with picket fence and 2.14 children--but for every one of those friends, you have probably five who watch reruns of ER stripped down to their underwear while eating box after box of Fruity Pebbles and dialing one-nine hundred-numbers. Random amusement that awaits your harvest.

3) Random miracles. Indiana University, like many other colleges and universities in this great nation, suffers from a dread, incurable illness: there just isn't any parking space to be had. When I lived in the dorm (Eigenmann Hall, affectionately called Eigetraz by those who dwell on her 14 malarial floors), I maybe used my car once a week to sup at the local Chinese restaurant . Otherwise I walked. Now that I live two miles from campus, I have had to invoke The Hooved One with goat-sacrifice to get a parking permit to begin with, and THEN once I got it, finding a place any time after 8 AM is like trying to give yourself hernia surgery with only scotch as anesthetic. Yesterday I was pulling past the place I usually park in (at, you know, 7:45) at TEN THIRTY and lo, there was a spot and--here's the part you won't believe--nobody was circling for it. I drove into it and sat there, stunned. It was a two minute walk to work and my classes, and there it was, all empty. The divine ecstasy I felt began to fill my car with the scent of flowers, a la Teresa of Avila.

4) Pumpkin things. I have a problem, bordering on fetish territory, with things that smell and taste like pumpkin and pumpkin spice. I have no idea why this is. Two years ago I was the same way with coconuts. I bet Freud would have a field day with that one.

5) Vengeance. Hammurabi and Draco of Athens were on to something. Growing up with two very strange, very large families was "interesting." My grandfather on my mother's side was one of 13 and my grandfather on my father's side is one of... damn, I forget. One side is Irish, the other, Italian-- you get the picture. Competition for attention was paramount. I became enculturated to feel that when someone screws you over, why, screw them over back. Compassion is for those who intend to be prey. The world is a vampire, after all.

One of those things was not like the other! One of those things just wasn't the same! One of those things was not like the other... can you guess before my song is done? Can you guess before...my...song...is...done?

One of those is only partially true. I think those who know me well will know which one it is.

It's true: I only kinda like pumpkin.

Muahahahahahaha.

Good night, Indiana.

Domonic (Demir)